I'm in some kind of medieval tavern.

Emma is still next to me. Her choker looks totally normal. There's the bartender, but no one else from the bar is here. This place is dark, warm and kind of sweet smelling. Aside from the fire burning opposite the bar, there are lots of candles around. There are tables and booths off to the side, as well as some shut doors. In the center it's more open. There's a large communal table and some small ones scattered.

The place is full of strangely dressed people, and some who might not be people at all. I realize that we're dressed pretty similarly to everyone else. Where's my cute outfit??

We all look at each other unable to speak. No one around us seems to see anything off. The conversations continue. There's some dude with a lute (I'm not really sure it's a lute. I'm not even 100% on what a lute looks like).

"A drink!" A small hairy man slams his fist on he table and looks at Jack. At least I think that's his name. I think I remember him throwing Ben out this one time. We've never been properly introduced. He's mostly busy humiliating my boyfriend. That thought kind of gets me wet, but I shake it off.

He glances over to a woman cleaning mugs in the corner.

"Help him out pretty thing. I need a word with my," he looks us up and down, "friends." His smile is disarming even in this weird dreamworld. She rolls her eyes but strolls over and bats her eyelashes at the little man. I say little, but he's only short. He seems quite wide.

The three of us slip outside to talk. No one pays us any mind. This is a bar. People are having fun. It's chilly outside, and I feel bad for Emma. Her outfit is pretty skimpy. Don't get me wrong... she looks good. If we get home, I'm gonna suggest picking up a corset. The one she has on now is a beautifully embroidered dark green. It has images of tiny bulls crashing into each other stitched in a darker green. Her tits look amazing. (Focus Lucy.) The skirt she has on is long and in a few layers, but the material is thin and light. Even in the pale light coming out of the the tavern, I can see the ruffled knickers and garter she has underneath.

"Ey! Focus," I snap. Jack has clearly noticed all the same things. For an older guy, he sure is focused on one thing. Jack appears to be in his forties, judging by his silver hair. It's cleanly cut and combed, like in real life (Is this a dream or something? This might be real life). He's got what looks like is a five o'clock shadow, though I suspect it might be specifically cut that way every day. His cloths are fairly predictable leather and cotton. The shirt is loose fitting and my eyes wander down some dark chest hair. He's got an impressive physique. Everyone in there appeared to be fairly large and bulky, but he wasn't dwarfed.

I on the other hand felt tiny. The "small hairy man" was really only small by comparison. He was just as tall as I am and most likely weighs four time as much. I'm kind of self conscious about my slim figure so the form fitting leather outfit made me kind of uncomfortable. It was black and brown leather, embossed with what appeared to be some kind of vines all over it.

"Judging by the look of things. We've got plenty of time, centuries even. You're unlikely to miss any appointments."

If this is how this entire dream/ acid trip/ inter-dimensional jump goes I'm going to get sick of this guy.

"You can't be sure we went back in time. You have no idea what's going on!" Neither do I, but it feels good to tell this guy he's wrong.

"Uuuuuum I think Lucy's right," Emma spits out. "That guy at the bar looks like he's from Lord of the Rings or something!" I can tell she's welling up to cry.

I run my hand through her hair to comfort her. I press my forehead against hers and whisper,