Timothy woke up with a samurai sword in his face.
"This is new," he muttered, which was absolutely true. He'd woken up with guns pointed at his head before, but never a sword. He wasn't sure if it was a new high, or a new low.
"Alright!" snapped a female voice that was just a bit too cheerful for early morning. "Hands where I can see them, no weapons, et cetera!"
Timothy blinked the sleep out of his eyes, then slowly raised his hands to his face to rub the grit out further.
The girl pointing the sword at him was much younger than him, and fairly short. Her hair was very light-colored, nearly white; and it was short and fluffy, like feathers. Her skin was a similarly pale color, and her eyes were a piercing shade of sky blue.
"Oh, would you get up already?" she sighed, sounding simultaneously excited and exasperated.
He yawned unintentionally, then clapped his hands over his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was look like he was being rude, especially considering what he was about to say.
"Is this a robbery?"
The girl smiled. "It might turn into one. Butt off the ground!"
Timothy groaned, ran his fingers through his hair, and slowly extracted himself from the sleeping bag.
"I don't have any weapons, you know. Just that guitar over there -" he pointed at his case, which was leaned up against the petrified log - "and a cool-looking guitar pick."
"Can I see it?" she asked innocently.
"Here. Please don't take it, though." He reached into his pocket slowly and handed her the pick.
The girl held it up to the dim sunlight, where it shone silver. "Dude, this could be an ancient artifact or some shit."
He blinked with surprise, both at the casual curse and at the actual sentence. "Really?"
"Yeah! I mean, it's got an Illuminati symbol on it."
"A what now?"
She shrugged. "Illuminati. Some sort of secret society controlling pre-Wasteland 'Murica, dropping of the letter A intended." Despite how odd the sentence was, it sounded natural with her saying it.
"So!" She whipped back around to Timothy, and he had to step back in order to avoid the sudden swing of her sword. "Can I trust you?"
He bit his lip. "Um. I think."
The girl laughed. "Okay, good! Well then, I-"
"-Hang on." He narrowed his eyes at her, swiped his guitar pick back, and moved a few paces away. "How do I know if I can trust you?"
She shrugged. "Corpse."
"C- oh dear." Upon feeling something behind him, he turned around to find the dead body of one of the bandits that roamed the area. Their throat was slashed open, and the blood was fresh-looking.
"You... killed them?"
She pursed her lips. "It was gonna murder the both of us, dude."
"...Fine. I'll trust you. Now exactly who are you?"
She grinned. "I'm Cecilia Lee. Former eleventh grader, current samurai Chicken."
Timothy raised an eyebrow. "...Chicken?"
"Eh. It's what a friend of mine used to call me, because of my hair. It's fluffy."
"I can see that."
Cecilia strode over to the log and leaned one foot against it in a casual manner. "So, who're you?"
"I'm Timothy. Timothy Rechs. My nickname would be... Fish."
She wrinkled her nose in a confused manner. "Why Fish? Don't you have anything more badass to call yourself?"
He turned his neck to the side and ran his fingers along the slits in his neck. "Yeah. I figured Fish is the most fitting, though."
The campsite was quiet for a while after that, at least until she opened her mouth again.
"Kinda must suck to have gills when you can't swim in the water, huh?"
He groaned. " You have no idea."
"So!" Cecilia plopped down on the log with a mischievous grin, readjusted her cream-and-red outfit, and laid her sword slightly off to the side. "I'll be hanging with you from now on, all right?"
Timothy groaned good-naturedly. "I suppose I don't have a choice?"
"Nope!" She rummaged through a pocket and extracted an old VHS tape. "D'you have a player for this? I'd like to rewatch it."
"Godzilla?"
"Yeah! One of my favorites. Gotta love cheesy special effects!"
"I guess so. Player's under the TV."
She strode over to the television, slid the tape into the player, and pressed the power button on the TV. An old movie flickered onto the screen.
He frowned. "Cecilia? Uh, maybe you should... back away?"
She took a few steps back. "Why?"
"That TV isn't plugged in; it doesn't even have a power cord. Not only that, but the VHS isn't connected to anything either."
She shrugged. "So?"
"So why is it running?"
Her jaw dropped. "Oh. That is a very good question. It certainly doesn't look dangerous, though."
"No." Timothy sighed, then sat down on the log and faced the television. "Well, maybe we should watch it from around here. Then we'll have more time and space to get away from any possible bad things."
Cecilia nodded. "Sounds like a plan!"