Who: Ben, Ed, Stephen, Zane, Markus (Peyton and Kali.. maybe at end?) What: Ben waking up/Stephen and Zane returning When: Late morning, durring this Where: The Village, Reesyn Apt. Rating: High?? Status: Open/Incomplete
Ben looked around groggily. It was a funny sort of in-between feeling, half hangover, half concussion, like when a more drunken bandmate once swung a once-guitar-shaped electric guitar square at his cranium. After that the guitar had never been the same, with Ben's head not being a more acoustically pleasant shape for a guitar to be in. As for his head, it had itself made some very interesting ringing noises internally for quite some time, and that's how he felt right now.
There were basic things one did after any blackout though and Ben thought it wise to at least make a go of one or two of them. Groping about and wiggling with toes and fingers; Ben was able to ascertain that he had all his extremities in working order. That was good. Further exploration proved his knees and elbows capable of bending although not without really unbearable amounts of soreness. That was well, good, in that nothing seemed broken. Gingerly he poked at his skull and was greeted by a barrage of pretty colors. That was less good, because it made the world he was in swim in and out in a very unpleasant way. Giving in to it he let his consciousness drift asleep for a few minutes until things seemed a bit stabler.
Good, so knees work... and elbows... Ben crab-walked across the familiarly gritty floor of the apartment until he felt trusting of his own mobility and then slowly pressed himself up to a crouch, and then to a staggering walk. He looked around. Yep, definitely still the apartment. Same dust, although some of it was now in swirling motes suspended in the unstill air. It seemed colder though, which was odd. And looking out the window, which definitely hurt his head more than he would've liked, he could see why. It was... Frozen, outside. Snowy. A sort of fairy tale snow full of thick green trees and an animal or two; definitely out of place, not at all fitting into what he usually defined as reality. Yep, that was definitely a path down there, frosted with clear, gem-like ice, more of the stuff twinkling in thick sprucely branches...
Where the hell was he? As far as he knew concussions didn't usually lead to magical snowy woods, did they? Weird holes in the world, those might, but I mean, and it wasn't like he was an expert on the subject, this was just downright unnatural. Every inch of the new world outside the apartment seemed so perfect, so meticulously laid out, as if to be drawn in with a fine pencil and brush. But who was he to judge... Last Saturday Ben had witnessed a homeless man fall down two flights of stairs and nonchalantly continue urinating, which is what the wino had been distractedly doing when he slipped. Who was he to judge normal? Maybe this sort of thing happened a lot, weird rips in the fabric of space and time leading to funny white woods, and he had just never gotten around to experiencing one for himself. Ben decided to make for the door and at least take a closer look. And maybe rustle up some food; he was famished.