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Cause of death: Dehydration, paranoia.
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Julien wakes up... nicely.  Slowly.  It's very cozy here, and the room looks expensive, and everything feels very okay.

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Mmnn.

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He's on... vacation?  Where is he on vacation to.  Presumably he'll remember in a minute.



Nope, huh.  Oh well.

He brushes the covers aside and - huh, he fell asleep in sweatpants.  Daytime, fashionable sweatpants, which isn't that weird but he doesn't normally do it.  His sneakers are lined up by the bed; he slips into them and heads... out.

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"Hey, there!  Hello."

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"Hello!"  Is this somebody's house??  - Oh, an Airbnb, probably.  That doesn't tell him who this guy is, though.  He keeps walking.

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"I got you some water.  Wanna come sit down?"

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(Whoooooo is this.)

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"Sure."  He sits.

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The guy gestures to a glass on a coaster on the coffee table.  "So, hi, my name is Journey Carison, and I'm about to tell you several things that are a lot more surprising than that."

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"...Okay...  Hi, Journey, my name's Julien."

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Journey nods.  "Hi, Julien.  Nice to meet you.  Let's start with some good news:  Dungeons are not the only alternate dimensions around.  And many of the rest of 'em are filled with humans who are generally trying to make the multiverse a better place."

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(What.)

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(What -)

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"This has lead to both some individuals, and to a lesser extent also just common people, being able to do a lot more things than previously.  More power, more wealth.  Cooler stuff and safer everything.

"...Not - everything - is as great as all that, but this is, if you ask me, a fundamentally optimistic state of affairs."

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(What does - ) (How - ) (Does he really expect - )

 

"This looks like an Airbnb."  (Well, sort of, at least.)

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"- Sure, yeah, I can kind of see that.  Do you want to take a walk?"

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"Not really, unless it's going to be explanatory in some way?"

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"It will be!"  He rises.

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"Sure, fine."  He'll follow.

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"Are you sure you don't want some water first, though?"

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Why is this guy being so pushy.  But whatever.  "Sure, I guess.  Hydrate or die-drate," he shrugs, going for the glass.

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"- Jesus Christ, man."

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"What?"

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"Never mind.  Cheers; prost.  Mazel tov."  Clink, and he takes a hearty swig himself.

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Whatever.

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It is, admittedly, pretty good water.  He's a fan of it.  It's just not so good that he would rather have it than understanding whaaat is happening here.

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