Note: No I will not tell you how to get to the white room. Frankly, I have no idea. Also, although I have consulted the other two authors of this story, the chapters are subject to change without warning because of various conflicts with the way I portray their characters.
Disclaimer: Although I want to own Brooklyn, NY, I don't. So no, I cannot sell you a timeshare or even rent one to you, despite popular belief.
***********
"Good grief, does it have to be so bright?", Caitlin asked, squinting.
"Where on earth are we?" Fiona questioned, oblivious to Caitlin's query.
"I don't know, but we aren't in the principles office.", observed Lindsay. The other two girls glared at Lindsay, who simply stated, "Well, it's true!"
Looking around, the girls finally bothered to notice where they actually were. They were in a large, octangular, white room with vibrant flourescent lighting and no exit. All of the sudden, a metalic-y voice, scaring the wits out of Fiona, boomed, "State your destination, real or imaginary, date, and location." After repeating itself in German, French, and Spanish, Lindsay finally caught on. Which was a miracle in and of it's self because she could only speak English.
After detaching Fiona from her arm, Lindsay boldly proclaimed, "Imaginary, 1709, Port Royal!" As soon as the last word left her mouth, she vanished.
Fiona looked at Caitlin wide-eyed. Caitlin, not as sure a Lindsay as to what she was doing, said haltingly, "Um, imaginary, after the ring has been destroyed but the elves never left, Middle-Earth." She also disappeared instantly.
Fiona was left standing in an empty room all by herself. Finally realizing what she was supposed to do (as one normally does when one is left in a vacant room all to one's self), she declared, "Imaginary, 1899, Brooklyn, New York City."
"PIRATES DON'T WEAR BLUSH! Maybe eyeliner, BUT NOT BLUSH!", Lindsay yelled as Fiona popped into the room.
Lindsay struggled to get away from the ladies who were doing her hair and makeup. Of course, the act was futile. The ladies calmed her down (slightly) and proceeded to rub red powder on her cheeks while she glared at the mirror.
Caity sat calmly in her chair smiling at her reflection.
Soon two ladies bustled over to Fiona and showed her several newsie-type outfits. Fiona picked the one that looked most like the charming picture Lindsay had drawn for her that summer. The ladies dragged her over to a chair and started applying her makeup while other random, various ladies did her hair. When they were finished, her freckles were defined, her skin was pale, and her hair was a slightly darker shade of brown. the ladies then helped her into her outfit. As they were struggling with the red suspenders, Fiona noticed that Caity was nearly done and that Lindsay was being hauled away.
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO! Lindsay got away from the attendant-ladies and sprinted to the opposite wall. The ladies rushed over and fussed over her hair which she had sufficiently messed up.
Caity sat calmly in her chair smiling at her reflection.
Fiona was handed a bunch of old money. As she slowly counted out how much she had she was pulled by the elbow towards a large door at the end of the dressing room. She finished (she had roughly $7 in money that wouldn't be useable now) just in time to hear one of the women say, "Enjoy yourself in Brooklyn. We've given you enough money to live on for a while but not enough to sell timeshares." Then the ladies pushed her out through the door.
Disclaimer: Although I want to own Brooklyn, NY, I don't. So no, I cannot sell you a timeshare or even rent one to you, despite popular belief.
***********
"Good grief, does it have to be so bright?", Caitlin asked, squinting.
"Where on earth are we?" Fiona questioned, oblivious to Caitlin's query.
"I don't know, but we aren't in the principles office.", observed Lindsay. The other two girls glared at Lindsay, who simply stated, "Well, it's true!"
Looking around, the girls finally bothered to notice where they actually were. They were in a large, octangular, white room with vibrant flourescent lighting and no exit. All of the sudden, a metalic-y voice, scaring the wits out of Fiona, boomed, "State your destination, real or imaginary, date, and location." After repeating itself in German, French, and Spanish, Lindsay finally caught on. Which was a miracle in and of it's self because she could only speak English.
After detaching Fiona from her arm, Lindsay boldly proclaimed, "Imaginary, 1709, Port Royal!" As soon as the last word left her mouth, she vanished.
Fiona looked at Caitlin wide-eyed. Caitlin, not as sure a Lindsay as to what she was doing, said haltingly, "Um, imaginary, after the ring has been destroyed but the elves never left, Middle-Earth." She also disappeared instantly.
Fiona was left standing in an empty room all by herself. Finally realizing what she was supposed to do (as one normally does when one is left in a vacant room all to one's self), she declared, "Imaginary, 1899, Brooklyn, New York City."
"PIRATES DON'T WEAR BLUSH! Maybe eyeliner, BUT NOT BLUSH!", Lindsay yelled as Fiona popped into the room.
Lindsay struggled to get away from the ladies who were doing her hair and makeup. Of course, the act was futile. The ladies calmed her down (slightly) and proceeded to rub red powder on her cheeks while she glared at the mirror.
Caity sat calmly in her chair smiling at her reflection.
Soon two ladies bustled over to Fiona and showed her several newsie-type outfits. Fiona picked the one that looked most like the charming picture Lindsay had drawn for her that summer. The ladies dragged her over to a chair and started applying her makeup while other random, various ladies did her hair. When they were finished, her freckles were defined, her skin was pale, and her hair was a slightly darker shade of brown. the ladies then helped her into her outfit. As they were struggling with the red suspenders, Fiona noticed that Caity was nearly done and that Lindsay was being hauled away.
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO! Lindsay got away from the attendant-ladies and sprinted to the opposite wall. The ladies rushed over and fussed over her hair which she had sufficiently messed up.
Caity sat calmly in her chair smiling at her reflection.
Fiona was handed a bunch of old money. As she slowly counted out how much she had she was pulled by the elbow towards a large door at the end of the dressing room. She finished (she had roughly $7 in money that wouldn't be useable now) just in time to hear one of the women say, "Enjoy yourself in Brooklyn. We've given you enough money to live on for a while but not enough to sell timeshares." Then the ladies pushed her out through the door.