Grub

Your first quick stop yields you a pair of chili cheese dogs, a beer, that hits a bit harder than you expected, and the use of a frighteningly real bathroom. The grime, the smells, “This is just a game, right?” You ask your reflection as you wash your hands. You even have a little bit of a hangnail that demands you use a little thin knife you have hidden in your belt you don’t exactly remember buying. “Weird.” As you munch some fries and nurse a second beer you look over all the various styles of dress of all the people that pass by. Clad in latex from the neck down with a mop of pink hair, you decide your current look is actually rather tame. You see all sorts of neon, army fatigues, suits, latex, and leather, as well as the mundane, sweat pants, swimsuits, or even just lingerie.

After about a half hour you decide you should probably either go dancing, go home and change, or go shopping for more magic. Then you can’t help but feel like someone is staring at you. You casually take a look and see sure enough someone is watching you.