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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"Not particularly," Anakin said. "I think wearing two shirts helps with that, though."

"Two shirts and leggings," Anders added in agreement. "Though it seems warm enough here that I won't need them."

"Oh, by July, you'll be sweltering," Anakin said. "This place is incredibly humid."

Anders plucked unhappily at some of the fur trim on his robe. "I suppose I'll have to find a place to buy summer robes."

And money to buy them with, but never mind that.

"The clothing store on the island is remarkably well stocked," Anakin assured him.

"That's good to know," Anders answered. "Which Circle are you with, anyhow? I don't recognize the design of your robes."

"I'm a Jedi," Anakin said, "which probably means nothing at all to you. Whatever your caste equivalent of diplomat-soldiers is."

"Chantry brothers and sisters come closest," Anders told him. "But no, Jedi doesn't mean much."

"I've been here long enough to realize that," Anakin admitted. "Do you know what a bus is?"

Anders thought about lying, but if the man knew enough to ask it hardly seemed worth it.

"Is it that?" he asked, gesturing to the large .... carriage-thing waiting for them.

Anakin smiled. "Yes. Are you from a 'how primitive is that thing' world or a 'where are the horses?' world?"

"Where are the oxen, actually," Anders answered, embarrassed. "We don't have enough horses to use them to pull things."

Horses were expensive, and Ferelden was poor. Cattle served the purpose just as well and were better to eat.

"There are different worlds?"

Anakin nodded. "I'm from one very, very far away."

"I'm Fereldan," Anders answered. "Which must be far away, from the way no one's heard of it."

He sounded as if this was something of a relief.

"Is that a good thing?" Anakin asked.

BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday Morning

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