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[The video begins abruptly, when a young woman with red hair seems to step on the communication device. She doesn't seem to notice the device is on, or that it's even there. She's too busy raging to a floppy eared dog sitting on the edge of the fountain, walking around in a circle, hands in the air.]

--is the absolute LAST time I'm taking the train, I swear! I thought we were going to have a nice, safe train ride...actually, no, forget the train. This is the last time I listen to Dimitri! This could've all been avoided if he'd made sure our papers were fine, but nooo, they're absolutely blue, don't worry about a thing, Your Grace! Ha! And then, he thinks going and hiding in the baggage car is a good idea? Great idea, Dimitri, you nearly got us all killed!

[She makes an irritated growl before sitting next to the dog, scratching its ears idly before sighing.]

So...where exactly are we, anyway? We did jump from a moving train car, so...
[She moves to check her pulse, before frowning.]

Right, nevermind, we're not dead...and this is definitely not Russia...

[She sighs again, before smirking slightly at the dog.]

How much do you want to bet this is Dimitri's fault somehow?

[It's only now that she seems to notice the black communication device lying on the ground. Frowning, she moves to pick it up, bring it right up close to her face, staring at it in confusion.]

And what the heck is this thing...

[She pokes at it a few times, trying to figure out what this weird little black thing is and why it was just lying around.]

Hello?

[And as she continues poking at it, she manages to cut off the video feed.]

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[She's from 1926 Russia, cut her some slack. Still, she does push the green button, turning on the video.]

...Well, now that's just weird.

[ W-Well how is he supposed to know?!! X( ]

Um. I guess it is. [ He sketches an awkward wave. ] Hello. I'm Li Shenshung. It's nice to meet you.

[ ...or is it?... ]

[She's still very suspicious of the strange magic box. Magic usually ends in bad things, after all. But she gives a hesitant nod and wave.]

...Anya. Nice to meet you too. Where is this place? It's not Russia.

[ Hei can't say he cares much for the magic, either. But he's been in the City long enough. Why look for rational explanations? ]

An-ya. [ A shy little smile. ] That's a pretty name.

[ At the next statement, he sobers. ]

No. Not Russia.

You're not going to believe this... but you're in an alternate world. Of sorts. It's called the City.

Oh, thanks.

[It's not her real name, but it's the only one she remembers, so.]

...you know, as insane as that sounds...I guess that would explain a lot.

But it's still completely insane. Any way I can get back to Russia?

[ Well, for a kidnapped person, at least she's taking it well. ]

I'm afraid not.

No one leaves the City until it's bored of them. Or something along that line.

Great. That's just great.

[SIIGH. She's got a feeling she's gonna be here for a while. Anya slumps a bit. Guess Paris is gonna have to wait a while...]

So what do people do here, anyway?

Um...

Talk [ whine ] on the Network. Go to [ waste time at ] bars and restaurants and clubs. Get [ crummy ] apartments and find [ pointless ] jobs.

[ paaaaaause ]

But maybe you'd like to visit the Welcome Center first? They'll help you get situated.

[That sounds exactly like what she would've done in Russia if she hadn't gone to St. Petersberg. It doesn't sound appealing, but...]

...Is there anything else to do here? Not that that doesn't sound...normal, but. Well, it sounds boring.

[Yeaaah, that might be a good idea.]

Where is this Welcome Center place?

This place ... isn't normal. [ (In truth, it's as normal as his homeworld, but sssh.) He takes a moment to clear his throat. ] It's hit by curses every few days. Anything from people turning into animals to your worst memories being played on the Network.

[ Endeavoring to be helpful (at least on the surface), he fiddles with his device. ] I'll send you a map. [ DirectionsInRussian.jpg. ]

Memories?

[Don't mind her, that just happened to pique her interest. But if you can't remember something, could the City use it in a curse? Don't care, now she's interested.]

Oh, hey, wouldja look at that. [MAP GET!] Thanks!

[ He notices that spike in her interest-level, and files the detail away. Aloud, he says only, ]

That's right. Childhood trauma. Family tragedies. Dubious crimes. Embarrassing moments. A growing-up montage, even. [ His eyes, though mild, stay fixed on her. Watching her face for reactions to every statement. ]

[ A polite smile. ]

It's no problem. Miss Penny's the lady who works at the Welcome Center. [ And she's another ginger too!!! ] She's really nice. She can help you with a place to stay and something to eat. [ A beat, in which he takes in her get-up while pretending not to. ] Also get you a change of clothes, maybe.

A growing up montage...

[Nevermind that she doesn't really know what a montage is, she's trying not to look too hopeful. She may never be affected by this stuff. But the possibility of being able to remember SOMETHING...]

Sounds nice, actually. I'll go see her right away.

...What's wrong with what I'm wearing?

[It's very warm, thankyouverymuch!!]

You know. Like in the movies.

[ Awkward pause. ]

Um. Nothing. [ If you're going for the post-revolution ragamuffin look. ] But it's summer, Miss. You'll end up baking like a biscuit.

I've never been to the movies.

[Nobody she knows has been. Pfft, we can't afford movies, we're too busy trying not to starve! Which also explains the post-revolution ragamuffin look.]

...hmm. You do have a point.

[She sighs, poking at her clothes a bit.]

Maybe I should get something lighter.

Really? [ ... ] Popcorn allergies? Or do you have something against dark rooms with lots of people huddled together?

You could. [ He smiles brightly. ] I think a few stores even have matching outfits for people and their pets. [ That's a cute puppy, btw c: ]

[She blinks, not seeming to recognize what 'popcorn' is.]

Nope. Just never been.

[She can't help but laugh at that. That...that is ridiculous, right there.]

I guess Pooka could always use his own scarf...then he could stop stealing mine.

[ N-No popcorn?!! What a dreadful state of deprivation!!! D: ]

Pooka, huh? That's a cute name. If I stop by the Welcome Center for [ reconnaissance ] volunteer-work today, maybe I'll bring him a snack. And something for you too, Miss Anya. Are there any dishes you like to eat?

[ He's a chef, so make him a big damn list. ]

Uh...well, I don't really care for stroganoff, but I like borscht. Oh, and tyurya, but we eat that all the time at the orphanage...pirozhki are a good treat, I've heard...

[The list of Russian food she could eat is long, mostly because she's been stuck eating orphanage grade gruel for the past ten years.]

Pooka would love that snack, though.

[Yes he would! See how happy the word 'snack' made him!!]

[ It's cool. He spent his formative years in a warzone, surviving on soldiers' rations. Gluttony is now a way of life for him. ]

Pirozhki and borscht, then.

[ With a little beaming smile at the excited puppy. ]

And little doggy-treats for Pooka.

[Gluttony is going to be her way of life here, it seems.]

Excellent! And ooh, Pooka, did you hear that? Treats!

[Pooka jumps around excitedly. Treats! Treats are good!!]

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