fandomhigh | BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday Morning

There was a crackle of energy before reality split and portal opened up into the Portalocity Lounge. A few seconds later a figure popped through the portal wearing what appeared to be an environmental suit attached to an air supply hose going back into the portal. He then pulled out a tablet device and took some readings before stripping off the environmental suit revealing the teenager known as Barry Ween.

"Okay, Jeremy. I'm here and the atmosphere is breathable. Send the rest of my shit through," Barry said into his comm headset. "No. Just push it into the portal and pull back the suit. Jesus Christ! How fucking hard is it to push it through numb-nuts? Just fucking push it!"

Three suitcases and a large crate appeared through the portal. "About fucking time. Okay, now press the button to close the portal. Which one? The big fucking button that has a label on it that says 'PRESS THIS FUCKING BUTTON AND NOTHING ELSE.' Are you fucking kidding me? No. No. No! Just fucking forget it! Don't touch anything I'll shut it down remotely."

A couple of taps on his pad and the portal disappeared with a "plip." "All right it's done. Don't touch any of my fucking stuff while I'm gone, Jeremy. You hear me? All right. I'll check in with you later."

Barry looked up at the glittery sign bearing the name 'Fandom High' and grunted before going back to his tablet and taking further readings; muttering to himself occasionally when he found something of interest.

[Woo! Newbie Shuttle!]

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"Hello," Four replied. He glanced up at the Fandom sign. "That thing is very...cheerful."

Four was wearing black. Glitter wasn't exactly something you saw a lot of in Dauntless.

Barry looked up at the sign again and grunted dismissively. "Looks like someone went a little pintrest crazy if you ask me."

"Pinterest?" Four repeated, frowning. "What's that?"

He hoped it was a what, anyway...

Barry gave Four a look. Really?

"It's a social media computer thing," he said slowly. "Clearly you're not from around here. I'm Barry."

Four held out his hand. "I'm Four. Not from around here."

"No kidding."

Barry's mind immediately recalled a television show staring Jerry Seinfeld where one of the plots involved naming a future kid 'Seven'. He speculated that given the clothing and the lack of cultural knowledge that Four's parents weren't watching any episodes with Jerry Seinfeld.

"Neither am I actually," Barry said with a shrug. "Similar dimension though this one is definitely not my own. Does your 'not-from-around-here' have a name or should we just say you're Four from nowhere?"

"From Dauntless," Four said. "It's my faction."

Since saying he was from the only place on the planet with people in it any more seemed rather harsh, even for a Dauntless.

"Faction?" Barry repeated. "Well that sounds almost as cheery as the glitter on our welcome sign."

Barry winced. "Sorry. Sarcasm is my usual kneejerk reaction to everything."

"Mine is hitting things," Four offered helpfully. "Or shooting them."

Four was a little scary, yeah.

"And clearly that works well for you," Barry said trying not to roll his eyes. "Asking you how you got the name 'Four' isn't going to illicit a knee jerk reaction is it?"

Four's lips quirked up. "No, but I'm not going to tell you, either."

"Aww! You're breaking my heart Four!" Barry said holding his hands to his chest in mock despair. "What if I bat my eyelashes at you?"

"I'd wonder what had flown into your eyes," Four replied.

"I'm betting you're the joker of your group back home aren't you."

"I'm a laugh riot," Four agreed, deadpan.

BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday Morning

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