An ordinary college girl from another dimension entirely appears out of thin air with a faint "pop". 

This is not her friday evening lecture on political science. 

Okay, girls, orient, something just happened that shouldn't have. Are any of you missing time?

Sharp discontinuity, nothing I recall there too. Why are we suddenly... downtown? Lindsey?

I've got no more of a clue than the other two of you. Have we got our purse still?

She checks; their black leather purse is still slung over their shoulder, and inside is still her wallet, her phone, her apartment keys, and... a hammer? 

She pulls out the hammer.

And something SLAMS into her brain, like molten metal pouring across her thoughts. It hurts, but in a glorious way. Like she's being reforged. Like the hiss of a brand on skin, marking her forever. 

Box Of Hammers (Lego Dimensions) 100

You can buy this box of hammers instead. This box comes with a dozen or so hammers, each of which grants the one holding it a copy of the Builder Power * Builder: You can build a mountain, if you do it brick by brick. Given all of the relevant pieces, and some sort of instructions on what to make, you can build almost any object quickly and efficiently by slotting the various pieces together. IKEA instructions are no match for your building might.

She bulls through the pain and keeps her feet. She barely even blinks.

What fucking Random Omnipotent Being has decided to fuck with her today? Giving her magic Lego building powers? And... Teleporting her?

We totally just got isekaied, didn't we? We have a power, we're in a new place, we're being railroaded.

Yes, and? 

Orient, get the lay of the land, find a way to succeed. It's that simple. 

Let's see if the locals are comprehensible. 

She picks a direction that looks like it's towards the city center and walks. Soon there'll be someone to talk to. The whole city can't be deserted.

Liv fidgets with the body's hands a little to keep herself occupied as she walks.

... Probably for the best to put away the magic hammer for now. She stuffs it back in her purse.

Once out of the alley they started in, there are a handful of people visible walking down the street and two cyclists. The locals' English is noticeably accented, and a handful of words might need some context clues or more immersion to come naturally, but it's perfectly understandable to their ears. This person is talking to one of their coworkers about their new project, that woman is talking to her boyfriend about about going to see a play later, this old man is chatting with the person running a street pastry vendor... none of it would be astonishing to hear on Earth, but the lack of smartphones is immediately obvious and the fashions are noticeably different from what they're used to.

She pulls out her cellphone and checks the bars on it. No signal; not surprising. 

She quickly checks that she has her backup charger and cord (yes and yes), then shuts off her phone completely. Best to conserve battery, there's no telling if they even have electricity here. It'll keep for a week if she's careful with it.

There's asphalt here, so she can pretend to be... exceedingly lost.

She walks up to the street pastry vendor. "Excuse me," she says. "I'm quite lost, I'm on a road trip and I think I made a wrong turn a while ago. Can you tell me what city this is? And if you know where I could get a map around here I'd appreciate it."

"...This is Deqla," the vendor replies, a little nonplussed. "You're on 23rd street near Tressamine. There should be maps at any of the visitor's centers, I think there's one about four blocks that way? Some museum or other."

"Thank you very much," Liath replies. She nods her head amiably and starts off in the direction indicated, scanning her surroundings as she goes.

Smooth lie, darling. Think you confused him enough for once day?

Oh shush, I'm not at my best after having been transported to a completely different city, quite possibly in a country or world where none of our ID is valid, we have no bank account or legal tender, and we don't even know if they have electricity. The fact that they have cars is a good sign - they likely have alternators and sparkplugs, yes? - but physics here could be completely different. 

So what's your plan?

Get to a tourist destination, ask there if there is a local embassy or town hall, go to the embassy or town hall, provide my legal ID and the contents of my wallet, explain that I don't know how I got here, show the phone's capabilities, that ought to at least get us a place to stay for the night if the local authorities are any decent. Ideally it gets us a legal ID we can use to get a job. The magic hammer ought to make us fit for manual labor at least.

You're just going to hand over our phone to a random authority on another planet?

Do you have a better plan for getting us accommodations than "local homeless shelter"? If they even have those?

At least factory reset it first. It's got all our porn on it.

I am entirely aware and so I will endeavor to keep the phone and build the infrastructure to run it. There's more important things than porn on that.

Upon entering the museum, it proves to have both electric lights and air conditioning, though the outlet models look unusual and the woman sitting at the front desk doesn't have a computer. There are a dozen or so people visible from the entrance looking at various exhibits and placards, and the floor is covered in some kind light blue tile of tessellating hexagons.

"Welcome to the Museum for Aramaian History. How can I help you today?"

Behind her is a banner proudly proclaiming a new exhibit showcasing 'Groundbreaking technologies from before the dawn of steam!'

"Afternoon. I'm actually looking for directions to the local embassy, and a map to get there if you can spare one; I'd offer to pay you, but I haven't any local currency." She fishes out her wallet and shows a $20 Canadian bill, all smooth plastic. She rubs the back of her head. "I'm sorry, you must get confused tourists all the time."

"Nonsense, I couldn't possibly take payment for something like this."

She reaches down into her desk and opens one of the drawers, rifling around in it for a moment, and then comes up with a pamphlet that she unfolds into a map of the city.

"We're here," she says, pointing to a location about a quarter of the way in from the eastern edge of the city. "You'll find most of the embassies right on international street nearby the Congress of Nations building in city center, but I think a few of the smaller countries have a place down the side roads here so they aren't quite as far from the delegation hall. Where did you say you were from?"

"Canada, but I will be amazed if you've heard of it."

"Huh, yeah, I can't say I have. I used to be pretty good at geography, so I must be out of practice. Take care!"

"Thank you very much," says Lindsey, with the kind of warm smile that Liath can never get, and she takes out the map and starts following it in the direction of the local embassy. She's good at this after all the hiking she's done, even if the environment is unfamiliar. 

Liath estimates the distance. Is this going to be few minutes, a few hours, or most of the day?

It's a good two hours by foot, maybe an hour and a half if she walks quickly. There's also a bus route almost directly there from here, with a sign at the stop advertising that it runs every 15 minutes, but there's no obvious place to buy a ticket even if she had the money.

Well that's definitely a hike. 

Do we really want to hike for two hours through an unknown city, potentially straying into a dangerous area because we don't know the lay of the land, all because we can't convince a bus driver to give us a free lift to the embassy?

There's no harm in asking the nice clerk if she can spare us a bus fare. Worst she says is no.

Liath turns around and goes back into the museum. "Sorry," she says to the clerk. "I've just realized it'll save me two hours' hike if I can get change for bus fare. I hate to ask you, and if you can't spare it I'll walk; could I perhaps convince you to take one of my foreign bills in exchange?"

"The bus is free unless it's during peak hours, which shouldn't pick up for another..." she glances at her watch "two and a half hours. You'll want to take the 37 line from here, though make sure to pay attention to your stops since it loops back around."

"Oh, thank you very much. I'll just be on my way, then."

You were expecting that, weren't you? 

It was a possible outcome. 

Liath goes over to the bus stop and watches for the bus.

It is so not cool that we can't fiddle with our phone while we wait. 

Relax, Liv. People-watch. It's a whole new world to explore and any detail could be important.

Sure, sure, whatever you say.

The bus arrives about three minutes later, and is surprisingly quiet; something electric, maybe, but it doesn't match up with the rest of the technology on display. There are two other people waiting at the stop with her, but the bus is empty enough she doesn't have to sit next to anyone if she doesn't want to. As promised, none of them seem to have tickets out and the bus driver doesn't comment on her entrance. Once the doors close, the bus starts up again and it makes a decent pace down the street. It's a little slower than the busses she might have seen at home, but the lack of traffic and reduced need to stop mostly makes up for the difference.

Hmmmm, no engine noise. Electric is definitely possible, but if they had electric battery technology sufficient to run buses, why are there so few cars? Regulation? Different techbase? They seem to have an electrical grid...

Wait, has she seen any power lines yet? They ought to be everywhere if the power grid here is like the one at home.

None are visible! Either they're all underground, or they have some stranger method of transporting current.

Okay, yeah, that implies some things. This is going to be fascinating. Have they cracked wireless transmission like Nikola Tesla claimed to have? The museum certainly seemed to have electric lights. Perhaps they had generators on site? 

We are absolutely not in Kansas anymore.

Not that we've ever been to Kansas.

They watch out the window as the city goes by, doing their best to note any other unusual features.

As they move towards the center of the city, the buildings start to get a little taller, and she can see more in the ways of commercial activity like shops, restaurants, and food stalls. There's a sign for 'University of Deqla Main Campus' and one for 'Everbright Hospital' and several more museums, plus some of what are probably the local form of tourist traps offering themed goodies. The other buses they pass by going other directions seem to all be of the same make, but the trucks and occasional van or car are much less standardized in design or aesthetics. Lots of shops seem marketed at tourists and foreigners, but enough aren't that it's probably a function of the city getting lots of visitors rather than locals being unable to afford anything.

So far, so normal. She supposes she's lucky that she got dropped here and not in, say, the fourteenth century.

After about 20 minutes from her climbing aboard, the bus driver calls out the stop for 3rd street by northwest, which the bus route informs her is about two blocks off from international avenue and as close as her bus gets to the congress. She can wait another 5 minutes for a transfer to take her closer, but it's a short enough distance that it shouldn't be too hard to make it to any of the embassies she desires by walking.

Yeah, she's going to get off here.

Now, to pick an embassy that's appropriate... She sure wouldn't want to walk into a Chinese or Russian embassy back home holding expensive secret technology, for all that they would be major embassies. Stateless persons weren't treated so well at home, either... 

She will examine her map. There is a conference hall with diplomats and so on here, yes? Presumably this is a major nation if it hosts a world conference of this sort. She has no idea what the local laws are, though. She could be in the local equivalent of China. 

Ideally she would have time to make a well reasoned and thoughtful decision about this, but right now she is in a corner against being literally homeless, stateless and broke. Which would tend to lead to "deported" at home. She could try and blend in and stay illegally but that frankly sounds like a nightmare. She will take a small chance of being disappeared or stabbed with a polonium umbrella for a much greater chance of being able to live a legal, aboveboard and first-world-standard life rather than being deported to otherworld Mexico or what have you. 

She will go to the conference center and ask the desk clerk which embassy she should try.

Trading on the goodwill of others again, huh?

I don't want to have to work odd illegal jobs for the rest of my life, no. We need papers.

I'm worried about this, but I don't see better options.

"Hello there! If you're here for the tours, that's actually at the other desk over there; the receptionist can help make sure you get to see whatever catches your interest."

Well, here goes. 

"Hello, actually I have a bit more of a serious matter. I recognize this might be above your pay grade as a desk clerk, but I'm recently arrived here from a place called Canada which I don't believe anyone has heard of before. I have ID and some currency from that state but I don't believe it to be internationally recognized here, and it's my only legal identity, which I believe makes me legally stateless. What embassy or office should I try in order to arrange for a legal identity here?"

"Did someone put you up to this as a prank? There isn't any nation called Canada, recognized or not, and there anywhere on Garenhuld unexplored where you could fit another country. Unless it usually goes by another name?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm very serious. I recognize this probably seems like some form of hoax. Give me a moment and I'll show you what proof of identity I have."

She reaches into her bag and extracts her wallet, from which she extracts two Canadian 20$ bills and two Canadian 5$ bills, all four printed in plastic with transparent foil maple leaf watermarks and clear left sections with holograms of Queen Elizabeth and Big Ben. They're signed and have registry numbers on them, as well as many anti-counterfeiting marks and microfine printing. The five dollar bill has a picture of the Canadaarm and a space-suited astronaut on the reverse of the face side; the twenty has a picture of the Canadian National Vimy Memorial and several pictures of poppies. 

Also from the wallet comes her British Columbia driver's licence with its watermark, ID photo, and hologram, including a picture of her own face in hologram over the shape of the province. Aside that she places her British Columbia health card, her University of Vancouver student ID, her Canadian small watercraft liscense, her Vancouver public library card, and her Petro Points card. She also has a debit and credit card each with her name - Liath Amara - written on it, matching her British Columbia driver's liscence.

When she sees the money come out, she's still confident this is a hoax. A surprisingly thorough one, of course; when she looks at the bills, it really does seem quite impressively manufactured. When the evidence keeps coming, though, she gets steadily more and more nervous. Probably you wouldn't ever fake all of that, right? Which means she is dealing with something Unknown, and probably even dangerous. It's a struggle to keep her face professional even though she's in public and the rational part of her is telling her this is almost certainly some kind of test that she's failing.

"I'll, er, get you someone else to talk to?"

The last bit comes out as something of a panicked squeak despite her best efforts, and she hurries unseemly quickly through the door behind her desk.

Well, they've gone and done it now.

She will just have to stand here awkwardly with all her ID out on the counter. God save her from bureaucrats.

She looked scared. I hope we haven't ruined her day too badly.

Let's just really hope that whoever they bring has some actual sense to them.

Quiet down, you two. I've got a part to play here and I don't need the pair of you kibitzing.

Once away from the desk and the terrifying mystery, she feels more than a little foolish. What is she going to tell her boss, there's someone there claiming to be from a made up country and she needs him to go deal with it? Not only would that probably involve her having to go back, she's not sure how she could say it without getting disbelieved or lying. She spends a bit wandering almost aimlessly, vaguely in the direction of management.

"You look pretty stressed out, are you doing okay? Maybe you should see about calling in early today."

For a brief moment, she experiences a spark of hope before it sputters and dies at the realization that this is a political intern with the congress and not part of the venue staff, and therefore not someone who can authorize her clocking out and making this someone else's problem.

"I've had better days. Had a visitor at the desk do something unusual, didn't take it too well."

"Do you need a hand? It's not really my area but we're just cooling our heels waiting for the secretary to get back from a meeting right now, and I'm pretty good at talking with people."

If she could be just a little less pathetically grateful about that it would be awesome. Technically speaking she's not supposed to get assistance from anyone outside the staff with this kind of thing but nobody's going to get mad at her for wasting an intern's time like they would a bigshot politician and compared to the idea of speaking with her boss in this state the offer sounds incredibly compelling.

"If you could, I would appreciate it a lot. Thanks."

So when the secretary returns, it's with a bit more poise than she left with and accompanied by another young woman, though this one isn't in a uniform and seems a lot less skittish.

"Hello there, sorry for the wait. You were having an issue here?"

"Yes, I've just arrived from a foreign nation no-one has ever heard of and the sum total of what I own is what's on the desk there and the contents of this purse. I recognize that this seems absurd but it's the truth. This is a problem for me because I believe it means I have no recognized legal identity, much less anywhere to stay for the night."

Karen glances down at the assembled evidence. Plastic, it looks like, and not one of the kinds that Garenhulders have mastered yet. There might be a few labs that could do this kind of thing, but none that would choose this as a way to reveal it, which means that either one of her cousins has a particularly poor taste in jokes or this girl really is from another planet.

"Certainly. I think for this we want a form IAR-71-C; Annete, do you remember which drawer you keep those in?"

"Er, this one. But isn't that only for people from Tastreya?"

"That's the idea, certainly, but since we don't recognize them the legislation doesn't specify directly. I doubt it would hold up if someone makes a stink about it, but it's not politically acrimonious enough that anyone will. We can fill that out right here and get it filed; turnaround on that is usually a couple of weeks, but while the application for residence is pending it's legal to stay in the country as long as you're not drawing a paycheck. Looks like we need your name, date of birth, where you were born - just put the town, probably - who your reference is - put me down, I'll fill out the corresponding bit and attach it - and then some facts about your vaccinations, education and any criminal history."

This woman is clearly doing a byplay of some kind, but honestly that's a good sign, it shows that something's flagged. She's on this train to the end now.

"I recognize that there's not going to be an ideal match given that I'm not from any established nation, but frankly I don't have better options than putting myself in your hands right now. I'll fill this out. Any recommendations for the essentials of life in the meantime?"

She puts down Liath Amara, "I'm twenty-one, should I backdate using the local calendar or use my native one? What year is it?" - Richmond, "Whatever your name is, you haven't said -" She marks down vaccinations for chickenpox, measles, mumps, rubella, flu, covid-19, SARS, polio, and meningitis - if there are any more exotic diseases she won't have vaccinations for them. Her education is "2 years university computer science (hardware programming)", and no criminal history.

"Oh, sorry. I'm Karen Marsden - spelled like so - and today's date is 14/07/539. If you want it to match exactly, let me know how many days it's been and I'll do the conversion, but if there's nothing for it to be inconsistent with I doubt it matters. Unless all those vaccines are other names for the usual ones you'll probably want to schedule an appointment to get that fixed but that's not urgent on the scale of days... I don't know if any employers here will recognize your accreditation but it'll look good on the intake forms, people are more enthusiastic about educated immigrants."

She pauses, tapping the pen idly on the desk while she thinks; her own form is somehow already finished.

"I can put you up in a hotel for a week while you search for a place to stay, or I can introduce you to someone I think would be willing to put you up while you get back on your feet. Do you have a preference?"

"To be honest, I think having someone willing to put me up is probably better for me because it'll help me get the cultural context in a way that a hotel wouldn't. I don't want to blunder around here - I suspect you have different diseases, different technology, and no doubt different culture and laws as well. Best to find a local guide if one's on offer. My birthday is August 12 of 2001 in my native calendar, but I can't do the calculation of how many days into the year in my head, I'd have to refer to my pocket calendar and I'd rather not flash it because it's foreign tech."

"If you tell me how many days in your local year and the last date you remember seeing, I can do it myself, but I think you could also just straightforwardly put in the twelfth of whichever month that is in 518 or 517 and you might slip up less. And yeah, it's probably a good idea not to alarm anyone more than you have to. Sophie - that's the friend I'd be asking to host you - is more understanding about it than most people but it'll be easier on her the less you push it."

This conversation is not actually that much less concerning but Karen doesn't seem scared so probably it's fine and anyway it's not her problem to deal with anymore, she can just tune it out and ignore it.

"Then the twelfth of the eighth month of 517, I think, I can't do that in my head. And I don't know the order you put that in."

"Day, month, year. Alright, that should be everything; I'll go get this filed and then let them know I'm taking off early today. Have you eaten, or should I plan a stop for a late lunch on the way over?"

"I came from just after supper, so I don't need anything, but it's probably for the best if I get used to the local time zone and local food both. Thank you for offering so much so quickly, I really appreciate it."

A little stiff, aren't you? Let me.

"That is to say, I'm really grateful for the save. I know you must be taking some risks or spending some favors here. I know I look all stiff but that's really my official-business face." 

She gathers up her cards and cash and puts them back into her wallet, then turns over the immigration form. "I'll do my best to not cause trouble for you while getting acclimated."

"You're entirely welcome!"

About five minutes later, Karen Marsden returns sans paperwork.

"Unless there's something else you want to get done while you're here, I'll show you to Sophie's place; she has a condominium about half a mile from U of Deqla, and there's this really good Semaran restaurant nearby we can stop at. Mostly I order seafood, but there's also some vegan options one of my friends vouches for."

"No, I think I'm okay. Seafood, huh? I can't say I've tried that much. Sounds like it'll be an adventure. Inside of this larger adventure that's my broader circumstances. I'll go where you lead."

It's about a ten minute ride to the restaurant, which is unassuming on the outside but once they get past the door smells amazing. The menus have a whole swathe of fish, crustaceans, and mollusks on offer, most of which she's never heard of before, and mixed in with familiar seasonings like garlic and pepper are a host of new spices.

"I usually get the benni fillet or gatta bake, but if you don't have much of a spice tolerance the abuswe might be more your speed."

That's a great scent. Smells a little like one of her favorite Indian places.

"I have no clue what any of this is, but I'll take your recommendation. I like heat. There was a regional cuisine I liked that was fairly spice-heavy as well, so the local equivalent is great to discover."

When it arrives, the benni fillet turns out to have a citrus base about halfway between an orange and lemon to complement the spice and umami of the fish, and both it and Karen's gatta bake come in large portions. Each individual bite Karen takes is strictly neat and measured, but somehow her fish still seems to steadily vanish whenever Amaranth takes her eyes off it.

It warms her from the inside, it really does. Eating good food with a kind stranger in a whole new world has some things to recommend it. The citrus base is tangy, which she likes, and while the fish is clearly not the salmon or tuna she's used to it's not overly oily. The spices are really unique too, and the heat level is just about at the high end of her tolerance. 

She smiles. "I'm glad I ran into you," she says. "I wasn't favoring my chances with the bureaucracy. This is called what, again... Benni? I like it. I'll have to buy some cookbooks once I get back on my feet, there's a lot for me to explore."

"I'm glad I got to meet you as well, helping you out is significantly more exciting than doing busywork for my boss while he's in meetings I can't shadow and it's certainly a good excuse for getting out early. And yeah, that's the one. It's not used a lot in Aramain cuisine but it's still sold in stores and Semaran cookbooks should have plenty of options for it."

When the waiter brings the bill she pays for it with a set of unfamiliar bills rather than a card, so those are at least probably not in common use.

Lindsey definitely notices the lack of a card to tap or even swipe, but that can get filed away for later. 

"This is definitely going to be a lot to take in, but I'm trying to approach it with a spirit of adventure. They say you only enjoy a really good adventure fully after it's over and you're out of the scary parts." 

"For most people, I think just ending up somewhere new would be terrifying all on its own, much less if it meant they got cut off from everyone and everything they knew and were missing essentials. I'm glad to see you've been handling it as well as you have."

From the restaurant it's another block and a half to reach the six story building done up in blues and greens where Sophie lives. There is an elevator, but only the one and most people (including Karen) seem to default to the stairs, though they only need to head up the one flight. Karen rings the doorbell for room 205 and then smiles reassuringly at Amaranth.

"Just be yourself and you'll get along fine."

"Karen! it's good to see you, you don't usually get out this early."

She drags the blonde in for a hug, which Karen reciprocates, and then turns to look at Sophie.

"What's this, you're taking in strays now? I'm so proud of you, it feels like just yesterday I was dragging you and Gemma out of your shells. How'd you meet her?"

"You didn't drag me out of anything! I was perfectly social, just really busy! But, uh, yes, kind of. Sophie, this is Liath Amara; she had to move here unexpectedly in a hurry and she can't get a job or pay for a place to stay just yet, so I told her I expected you would be happy to help her out."

"It's almost like you know me or something. It's a pleasure to meet you, Liath. Is there anything you'd like to talk about first or should I show you around?"

"Well, just to warn you I'm really foreign and will probably have some cultural confusions. Thank you for being willing to take me in; I'm relatively calm because I've seen this process done before with people who've had to abruptly leave families that were no good for them, and that's shown me a lot of the goodwill of people in general. It's disorienting to be in a strange place with strange people, and more than a little scary, but as soon as Karen here offered me a place to stay while I got my feet I had a feeling I'd be alright. I will probably need some time once I'm in a private space though, if I'm being honest with you."

She runs a hand through her hair. "I don't expect the larger process to be easy to any extent, but my goal for today was mostly to get a roof over my head for long enough to get into the local system, and Karen's been very good about helping me with the paperwork."

She touches her forehead. "Oh, and I should ask up front, what's your situation with your landlord, if you have one? Working this kind of problem for some other girls I knew I ran into limited guest periods in some people's tenancy agreements... I don't know if that applies at all around here but I really don't want to be surprised by needing to move out fast."

"I actually asked Karen to do some of her magic to help me pick this place out, since it was kind of predictable I'd be having people over. If I'm giving anyone a key, I need to have that recorded with the main office, and there are the usual rules that apply to anyone in the apartment - no running a commercial business out of it, no using it for illegal activities, no damaging the property, no being loud after midnight, complying with health safety and fire inspections, some rules about pets we can go over if you think it'll be relevant - but as long as I'm paying for the place who is here is my business.

"As for my own rules... Karen said you don't have and can't get an income right now, so you don't need to worry about rent or anything, but I will expect you to be at least reasonably good about keeping your space clean and to do a fair share of dishes, vacuuming, etcetera. What you end up doing is open for negotiation but I don't want this to just be my handling everything. If I think you're not getting out enough I might poke you about it, but something like being sick is a perfectly valid excuse. Please respect the privacy of my bedroom unless I invite you in or it's a genuine emergency, don't go through my mail or steal my things... there's probably some other stuff I'm not thinking of but that's most of it at least and I don't think there's anything I expect that'd be surprising."

"Makes perfect sense. I'll pitch in as best I can and be quite grateful for the support. I promise not to mess with your mail or possessions. Do you have a guest room or will I be sleeping on a couch? I'm not familar with apartment situations personally, I've always lived with my family."

"The couch does pull out into a bed, but you don't need to sleep there unless you want to since I'm not hosting anyone in the guest bedroom right now. Here, let me show you actually."

It's not the biggest apartment ever, but it's not incredibly cramped. There's a bathroom with shower and tub, a full kitchen with dishwasher, stove, over and fridge, an adorably sized washer and dryer in a walk-in closet, two bedrooms and a living room. The incongruous technology continues to show up here as well; the kitchen stove is a fancy induction model and the apartment has a digital thermostat, but the living room television is an old CRT machine and the wall has a corded landline phone.

"And this here is where you'd be staying; you've got a small closet here for clothes or other storage and the door locks by turning like so, but I only have the ceiling light installed so if you'll want it brighter I'll have to find you a lamp or something."

It's objectively not much, and on loan besides, but the overwhelming feeling she has looking at this small room is relief. She won't have to live on the street. The rest can be sorted out with good sense, skill, and some luck. 

"... Thank you so much," she says, a little quaver in her voice as her tear ducts make a bid to start up. She takes a slow breath and exhales. "Sorry, I really don't want to dump out all my emotions on you, it's just been a bad day. You're really a lifesaver, and I'll do my best to pay back your trust." 

Honestly, this isn't too different from her family's old place out in Richmond, just a bit smaller. The CRT is familiar, the landline phone is familiar. Almost painfully so. 

She folds her hands together and starts to think out loud. "I guess I'll do my best to get settled and figure out my next steps. Karen would be more familiar with the local bureaucracy, but since the local busses are free in off-peak hours I should be able to do some footwork, maybe go to the university campus or a public library and check out some books about the local area to read in the evenings... Karen says my forms should take about two weeks to process so I'm going to do my best to get things lined up so that I can get a job as soon as that's available to me, and from there work on getting my own apartment. We might end up in a sublet situation if the first one is easier than the second? I expect you'll want the room for someone who needs it more at that point, but if apartment hunting goes slowly I will happily pay rent if I can." 

"If you end up in a position to move out, I probably will find another person to room with, but I'm not going to kick you out while you still need it; if you feel like you need to get a job right this instant or you'll have to go to a shelter that's the opposite of the point. I wouldn't say I'm rich, but I'm not struggling with my bills or anything. Speaking of next steps, though, what does your clothes and toiletries situation look like? I have some spares if you're feeling overwhelmed and just want to settle in, but more broadly I'm not sure if this is the kind of situation where I should be expecting Karen to come back with your stuff that she somehow got back for you via some completely implausible story that will nevertheless turn out to somehow be true or where I need to take you shopping so you aren't stuck with only the clothes on your back."

"I've got what I'm wearing. The purse has a small hairbrush in it but I've got no other clothes or toiletries. I seriously doubt Karen's going to show up with the rest of my stuff, so I would love to use your spares collection, and if you could cover a decent interview outfit that would be hugely appreciated."

She smiles wryly. "My family was pretty proud about not accepting others' generosity, so each thing I ask weighs, you know? I guess I feel like there are people who need it more than me, even when I'm in a situation like this."

"I guess I kind of feel like if being alone in new country without citizenship or any material items doesn't count, I'm not sure what does? But it's not like I don't get what it's like to be prideful about this kind of thing. We can see about getting you a toothbrush and a couple other essentials in one trip when you feel up for shopping, and I'll valiantly refrain from making you try on a dozen new dresses and shoes to go with your interview clothes."

"Yeah, I'm not saying it's rational at all. I've always had trouble with asking for help."

Hey, Lindsey. Do you need me to switch in? 

I think she'll probably notice if you show up all of a sudden. 

Then please, at least accept for her to get you enough outfits that you don't have do laundry every other day.

That feels pretty scary. I don't know this woman...

Please do it, or I'll do it for you. 

... alright.

The body's adopted a thinking pose for the two or three seconds that it's taken to have that whole conversation in mindspace. 

Lindsey looks up again. 

"... It's hard to say this, but... if you press me I probably won't turn down a couple additional outfits. I just... I have this instinct to be small and not take up space and it's not helpful, not really." 

"If it's a matter of pride I can always insist on repaying you later once I've found my feet. This instinct's just getting in the way."

Liath!!!

You needed to say it. 

I was saying it.

Not clearly enough you weren't.

The body blushes and looks away, Lindsey having grabbed it back as soon as Liath said her piece.

Aww that's adora- Bad brain, this woman has just done something really hard for her and asked for help, you aren't going to ruin this. And it's way too soon to offer to hug her anyway, Amara barely even knows her.

"In that case, I think I will insist. Let's pick out one or two things you like the look of now from my stuff, so you have something, and at the store I can make sure to keep getting you to try on clothes until you actually have as many as you want that you like."

Sophie's closet has a lot of pastels, mixed with darker blues and greens and pinks, but there is a few things in white if she wants them and one pretty red dress. The cloth actually feels a little softer than she's used to from earth fabric and the threads closer together, and while they're not tailored to her when she tries them on they fit reasonably well.

"Oh, you like pastels too! That's wonderful, I can get by with a couple of these blouses quite comfortably. One of these floor-length skirts would be lovely as well. I shan't ask for your lovely red dress even though I covet it. All of these are higher quality than I'd have been able to get back home, so I honestly feel a little spoilt."

She holds up one of the deeper pink tops against her upper body. "I think this would go well with my hair, so if you're willing to part with it I'd love to have it."

Sophie gives her a once over.

"Oh that does look nice on you, I approve! And I'm sure we can find you something nice and red if you still want it then, or if not I can use it as an excuse to buy myself something new."

"You're a very giving person, you know that? Letting a stranger raid your wardrobe willy-nilly." She smiles slightly. "I'll take the pink top, the long skirt with the leaf pattern, and one of your white blouses, if that's okay with you."

"I mean, I guess that's not wrong? But it's not so much what it feels like from the inside. It's more like... I live in a rich country, I have scholarships and a part time job and parents, so it's not like I'm at risk of financial problems for covering the basics for someone who needs help. And meanwhile reaching out like this has gotten me a really good friends over the years and it makes me happy to help people. I don't want to belittle your problems by acting like it's no big deal, it's just hard to feel like it, and from my perspective the thing I'm trying not to do is make sure you don't miss out on something you need to thrive because you feel you've asked too much already."

"Er, which is to say yes you can take those."

"Yeah, I kind of know the feeling. I had a friend who got into a religious disagreement with her family; they basically disowned her over it, threw her onto the street with none of her documents, and it was a scramble to get her housing and groceries. She moved across the country to a friend of a friend's house, stayed for a while, friend of a friend gets antsy because the landlord is breathing down her neck... She bounced between a few places' couches before she got her ID together, drew government assistance and found a stable apartment situation. Last I heard she was putting herself through university. Brave woman."

"Well, here's hoping you can manage the same thing. It's kind of hard to imagine what kind of a religious disagreement could end up like that though."

"Ah. That would be a cultural thing. Probably take too long to explain. The meat of the matter was that she thought she was a girl and her family strenuously disagreed. I don't know if that happens around here and it was a pretty delicate topic at home, so I'm sorry if I'm giving offence at all, I don't know how gender's handled locally..."

"Do you mean like, their parents thought they were a boy and then were scared of allowing her to start making changes at all? Or that she was changing things about her appearance and lifestyle faster than they were comfortable with? I'm not going to be frightened off by that, though, and especially not if it's just talking about change, though I guess now that you mention it if you plan to totally change over to being a boy overnight please try and let me know ahead of time so it's not a surprise?"

"They didn't understand why she wanted to be a girl, and got angry when she was firm about it. They had wanted a son. She bought some dresses; her family searched her room, found them, and disposed of them. It escalated from there as the family kept destroying any of her possessions they deemed "too feminine". I bought her a plush fish once; her parents threw it out. The paranoia from her family got to the point that they took the door to her bedroom off its hinges. It became untenable for her, so she left. Her family basically said "And don't come back!" in response."

She shakes her head. "And no, I have no plans to turn into a boy anytime soon. I'm quite comfortable as a girl."

"Oh, that sounds awful. I can't imagine anything that would make me take away your door or anything; I mean I guess I'd do something if you were hurting people but not that, having your privacy is important."

"We were very proud of her for finally making the decision to leave. It's hard to strike out without much of a safety net. Enough people came through, though, that it all worked out in the end. That's part of how I gained my crisis reflexes, through helping her." 

She smiles. "So yeah, we appreciate the kind of work people like you put in."

That will get her a beaming smile then.

"I've never moved to another country before, so are there any questions that you have about Aramaia that Karen or I didn't think to tell you, or should I give you some space - possibly with a book or the television - so you can decompress before I get started on prepping dinner?"

Lindsey smiles back

"I think some space to decompress would be really helpful right now. I don't know what to ask right now, to be honest, and I think some time to settle down will help me find my questions."

"In that case, I'll be in my room getting some homework done if you need me."

"Alright, thank you very much."

Then Sophie will head into her room and close her door; a slight increase in light coming through the cracks suggests she turned on a lamp or something equivalent.

And she will take her borrowed clothes into her guest room and lay them out on the bed.

She turns on the light, closes the door firmly behind her, and takes a heavy seat on the bed. 

I'm not okay.

I don't think any of us are okay. We're stuck in a foreign world with almost nothing, our degree probably doesn't exist, there's a magic hammer in our purse and a piece of alien technology this world has never seen before, we're just generally fucked. 

That's not what she was asking for, Liv.

Oh. Yeah. 

Very gently, Liv gives Lindsey a hug in mindspace.

She nestles in. 

It's not as good as a physical hug, but it helps.

I've got you. You've been so brave presenting for all of us with Sophie. I know it's hard for you to manage these things but it's been really helpful to all of us. Right, Liath?

I could not have done that, Lindsey. Not in a way that would make us seem friendly and approachable. You were, well, you. And that made everything so much easier. 

I think I need to cry a little.

Not just yet, please. I'll help you put away your new clothes and then you can curl up and rest. Okay?

Okay.

Liath gets the body up, picks up the borrowed clothes, and goes over to the room's closet, where she hangs them up. 

There, she says. That's better. 

She walks back to the bed, and gets under the covers, moving carefully and precisely. She settles in with her head against the pillow. 

The body's all yours.

And Lindsey curls up and cries into her pillow a little.

... very gradually, she relaxes a bit.

And distantly, a star flares and falls.

Something in her wants to reach out for it, but honestly, she's absolutely exhausted. 

She watches it go.

Lindsey, what was that?

I don't know. Just leave me be.

Alright. But I have some things to investigate for when you feel better. 

Okay.

And for a little while, Amaranthine rests. There's only so much that switching can do to ward off fatigue and pain, and it has been one hell of a day so far.

Alright. I think it's time to get up.

I do feel a little better. 

I want to go through our purse properly and take a full inventory of the contents. Including the weird magic hammer.

That makes a lot of sense, honestly. I want to know what we have of our world still. 

She picks up her purse from where it's lying on the bed, and starts laying out the contents and taking inventory. 

Keys, on her dolphin carabiner. Her tiny plastic hairbrush about half the length of her hand. Her wallet, with all the cards she showed back at the conference hall and the canadian money. There's three loonies in here as well that she apparently missed. Also in the wallet is her covid immunization record slip and a couple of Liv's reciepts for ice cream that she stuffed in here. The reciepts have "Vancouver, BC" on them so they might corroborate her story a little more; probably important to keep.

... Hah, a sealed letter from the canadian government. That'll be one of her climate rebate checks that Liv completely forgot about. She opens it and checks; yep, it's as she suspected. That's yet more evidence for her. A couple more of Liv's reciepts, for a danish and a couple grocery items. Of course. A plastic packet of kleenex. A large plastic bag and a smaller one too. Lastly, the thin but stiff comic book about being lesbian that she uses as a divider to keep things separated.

In the outside pocket, her spare charger and cord, a standard wooden pencil with an eraser and a cheap plastic mechanical one. 

And of course, the magic hammer and her holy of holies, her phone. 

It's really not much.

She picks up the magic hammer again.

Box Of Hammers (Lego Dimensions) 100

You can buy this box of hammers instead. This box comes with a dozen or so hammers, each of which grants the one holding it a copy of the Builder Power * Builder: You can build a mountain, if you do it brick by brick. Given all of the relevant pieces, and some sort of instructions on what to make, you can build almost any object quickly and efficiently by slotting the various pieces together. IKEA instructions are no match for your building might.

She has... magic Lego powers.

If we have magic LEGO powers, why aren't we in a dimension made of bricks?

Beats me. Maybe this is what the Lego world looks like to Lego minifigures.

Something super weird is definitely going on. I mean, we already knew that, but it bears repeating.

You know what's not in here? Liv's medication for her ADD.

It's a controlled substance, I wasn't going to carry it in public like some kind of pill fiend.

Not blaming you in the slightest, but that's going to need fixing. If they even have an equivalent around here. I'm just glad it's not vital to us staying alive.

It's pretty vital to us staying employed though.

We'll burn that bridge when we come to it, for now we've got bigger fish to fry.

Are you gonna fry our fish on the burning bridge?

Just watch me.

Seriously though, right now we just need to pass and stay busy getting integrated. The magic hammer can wait for now.

We definitely need to fill Karen in on the broader circumstances of how we got here, though, she seems to be able to see that we're aliens.

Do you want to trust her with us being a system?

That's a completely different question. Again, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it.

Do you have anything to say, Lindsey? You've been kind of quiet.

I think Sophie is being very kind to us, so we should try to be as normal as possible. The talk we ended up having about our friend definitely used up some of our weirdness points, even though she seems very accommodating.

We're all in agreement not to show off the hammer or the phone? And probably it's best not to show any of our things from Earth?

Yeah, agreed.

We told her that we had a little hairbrush.

Yes, and? We don't have to show her it necessarily.

It's just a potential slip. Maybe I'm worrying too much.

We don't know what we don't know. We aren't going to be able to blend perfectly - the whole religious disagreement thing speaks to this world being really different from Earth, culturally - so we've got to do our best and stay safe as best we can. Asking some questions of Karen and doing our research is probably the safest thing to do in the short term.

The lack of local vaccines is also worrying. I don't want to accidentally cause a plague. By all rights we should be quarantining.

I think that ship has well and truly sailed already, Lindsey. We didn't think of it. Probably it won't happen. There's no sense in worrying more.

I sure hope so.

Anyway. I think we have a plan, we have a roof and three square meals a day, that's good enough for now. Karen and Sophie seem to be doing their best for us. All we can do is do our best in return.

Yeah, I guess so.

Let's get up and see about supper and a book. Maybe watch some of the local TV. 

It's really convenient that we speak the local language.

A little evidence that our ROB isn't completely fucking with us. Still. We have a lot to sort out.

We really do. Just got to take it one step at a time.

Lindsey carefully gathers up her things into her purse again, setting the phone and the hammer on opposite sides of the dividing comic book. The last thing she needs is to accidentally smash her phone. 

Ready, girls?

You've got this, Lindsey.

You really do. Make us proud.

She opens the guest room door and steps out.

"Hey, Sophie?" she calls softly. "I took some time to get myself together a little and I feel much better now."

A few moments later, the door to her room opens.

"I'm glad to hear it. Normally I'd get started on dinner soon; do you have any allergies or dietary concerns I should know about when making food?"

"Not that I know of. Many of the ingredients you work with are probably unfamiliar to me, though, so I'll mostly be relying on your good taste."

Then Sophie will get out the ingredients for a stew; potatoes, onions, garlic, some meat that's either beef or something similar, and a lot of unfamiliar vegetables.

"I can't say I've ever managed to match Jaron or Karen at discerning taste, but I like to think I've picked up a few things between them and living on my own. You're welcome to help out if you like, but I can handle making this for two no problem."

When it comes to preparing food, Sophie is very fast, and perhaps more surprisingly for her speed doesn't seem to have her knife slam the cutting board or mess up even once.

Potatoes, onions and garlic are a good start for commonalities. She'll help out with the ones she knows.

"Those are some nice knife skills. Did you ever work at a kitchen or did you pick those up on your own?"

Sophie blinks at the question, then looks down at the difference between how much they'd each chopped so far.

"Ah, I guess I've just got a knack for it? I don't think I did anything special, just practice a lot, but I guess at some point I got pretty good at it. The misfits - ah, that's the friend group Karen and I are in - can get pretty competitive."

"Well, I'll do my best to keep up without injuring myself or your lovely potatoes." 

She returns to her work.

Then the two of them can finish up pretty quickly and, after adding it to a broth in a large pot, set it to cooking. Sophie winds up a little clock that seems to be in use as a timer.

"Do you mind if I put on the news?"

"Normally I don't watch it because it stresses me out, but for getting my bearings in a strange country I would love to hear it."

Then they can be treated to a newscaster talking about instability in the kingdom of Metaxia due to the recent health issues of their king and what this might mean for their neighbor Semdal's rubber exports. Throughout the topic, there's quite a bit of subtle - and some not so subtle - disdain from the anchors for the fact that the country in question is so backwards as to have a monarch, and discussion of how likely it is that Aramaia might need to send peacekeepers to prevent a humanitarian crisis if he passes. The latter speculation is accompanied by a surprising (or perhaps unsurprising, depending on your priors) lack of attention for the actual people that this crisis would be effecting if it materialized compared to the political impact.

Interesting. So there are still a few surviving monarchies. It seems like this whole place is around vaguely the 80s or something? She doesn't remember when the last monarchy fell on Earth and it just became dictatorships instead.

It's definitely a different planet at this point.

It's good to see that rubber's around. The cars were a big hint but this has brought it more to her attention. 

None of the rest of the news seems to get as much focus and speculation from the anchors, but over the next three quarters of an hour she can hear about the weather (raining this evening starting a bit before sundown, and then clear for the next 3 days before some fog and a light drizzle is expected), what the expert odds look like for Deqla University’s woman’s swimming team winning winning regionals (not incredible, but good enough that they shouldn’t be counted out), and a scandal where a deputy department head was caught taking compensation in exchange for approving some potentially undertested technologies for sale, the last of which produces a possible exaggerated shudder of horror from the reporter relaying it.

Then there’s a sound of a ringing bell.

”Sounds like the food’s done!”

That last one sounds like it could be a problem for her with her alien phone and all, if that's the kind of thing the locals think about technology.

"Wonderful. I'm excited to try it."

The food is approximately as advertised; it tastes noticeably different from its earth equivalent, but not so much so that you couldn't imagine it just being an unusual recipe or a regional cuisine.

Unless Amaranth signals that she's in the mood for conversation, Sophie will try to oblige her with just some companionable silence, though about halfway through that decision will clearly start to break down and she'll start making some small talk about her classes at university.

"It's fine, no need to be quiet for my sake. I don't have a lot to say but I can listen fine." 

Probably her own field of education is a little too fraught to bring up, but she can talk about the myths her old college had about the library sinking from not accounting for the weight of the books and its local sculptures and so on.

Judging by her responses, Sophie's never heard that particular chestnut, and she's pretty good at being an attentive listener. With Amaranth's permission acquired she can share some stories from her own school as well, like how their mathematics department spent decades at odds with their peers from the capital over who first solved the cubic equations only for archeologists to find proof that the ancients had discovered it most of a millenia before either of them and used it in their engineering.

That's cool! She can listen along and make appreciative noises. 

She should probably check out a local university catalog, seeing what fields and courses there are might be helpful to her. Not that she says that. 

What she does say is that she should plan to continue her education eventually - how can she get a hold of a copy of the local university's calendar, do they have a registrar's office she could go to? 

"I don't have a copy of the academic calendar on me; they hand them out every year, but I always end up losing mine. Uh, the fall semester starts in about a month but I'm not sure how far in advance you need to register for it, I assume it's probably still possible because I have three more weeks to change my classes if I have to before I need to pay a fee? And sure, we can stop by admissions tomorrow. I'm not sure what hours they keep on weekends but probably if we drop by around noon they'll be open pretty much no matter what it is."

Oh no, Sophie's being helpful when she only has half the context. Lindsey kind of wants to disappear. 

"I doubt I'd be able to register, but it'd be helpful for getting to know the country at least."

"I'd say that reminds me of Gemma, but really what she'd do if she wanted to get to know another country she suddenly found herself in would be bury herself in a library deep enough we'd need excavation equipment to get her back. Education would definitely be the second priority, though.

"On an only tangentially related note, do you usually eat dessert after dinners where you're from? I don't exactly have an amazing selection at the moment, but there's at least cookies or ice cream."

She ducks her head. "Usually that's a special thing with my family, but I could definitely use something sweet after the day I've had."

Then Sophie can get Amaranth her choice of snickerdoodles, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate chip cookies; she takes one of the first herself.

"Normally I also have chocolate ice cream but someone finished it off last time they dropped by and didn't tell me, so that's going to have to wait until I go shopping."

She'll take a chocolate chip cookie, then. 

"Said someone being Karen?" 

"That's the one, yes. Sometimes it's Jaron but it's always one of those two and she stops by more often. I take it you've seen her eat?"

"We went out to a - I forget the name of the cuisine, spicy seafood - place before I came over here. I never saw her take a single bite and yet somehow her food disappeared mighty fast."

"Well, now you know she's always been like that. We always used to joke that anyone could do the impossible, it just required too many calories, but these days I'm pretty sure they're unrelated."

"She does impossible things often, then?"

"Well, improbable might be more accurate. All the individual things have perfectly rational explanations, it's just taken together that she ends up looking like a miracle worker sometimes. When we were younger the most obvious one was always her multitasking; she and Gemina would spend a whole study session helping the rest of us with essay outlining, and then it'd turn out that despite being busy the whole hour she'd have already plotted out her own essay in detail. Between that and her people skills I can't say any of us were surprised that she chose to go into politics, though Gemina was holding out hope on her getting a degree in math for a while."

"She sounds like an interesting friend to have. Who's Gemina?"

"She's the smart one of us misfits; er, that's the name of our friend group. There's me, Karen, Gemina, Maya, Jaron, and Jennifer, which is pretty much everyone that might drop by to visit unless one of them happens to have a sibling tagging along. I'm pretty sure you'll get along with all of them if you want, though there's no pressure if you get busy or overwhelmed or just not interested."

"It'd be interesting to meet some more people. It'd help to get a handle on the local culture, and also I just like them. People in general, I mean."

"I'll let them know they don't need to hold off, then. Do you have any close friends back home, or is that the kind of topic I should be avoiding reminding you about for now?"

"Well, I sort of did. I used to play roleplaying games in high school, but when we went to college that group broke up and I haven't seen any of them for like a year... In college I had a brief but pretty intense romance with that girl I told you about, the one I helped escape her family. Her name was Opal, last name Essence - it was a bit of a joke but it stuck, she didn't want to keep her family's last name for obvious reasons." She shakes her head.

"We supported each other really sharply through a hard time for both of us - I'd just moved out and was having a real time of it getting my feet, and of course she had her family to contend with. I made a lot of memories with her, but it got kind of messy and complex and ultimately ended with us breaking up half a year in. There was another girl she liked more than me, and I could see that... holding on to me was hurting her... So I stepped aside." She rubs the back of her neck. "Still. She taught me a lot."