papertown | Once upon a time, in a strange, far away land....

Once upon a time, in a strange, far away land....

In the Unknown, strange things happened all the time.

And as a resident of the Unknown, Beatrice usually didn't question them (hence why she took it so relatively well when she and her family became bluebirds). So when her little brother and sister came running in, telling her that the dog had gotten loose chasing rabbits, she didn't think anything of it when it turned into her running for her life away from what looked like a stag with horns even bigger than she was. The dog had gotten away, disappearing through the bushes and out of sight, but the human girl was a much slower and bigger target, apparently.

So she went barreling through the trees, mud staining the hem of her dress and wayward branches scratching against her skin, her mind not really focusing on where but simply away. Not too far ahead of her was a wall, the brick overgrown with ivy but the rocks uneven enough for her to get her feet wedged into the cracks and climb. There was probably a house, or a farm, or maybe even a church on the other side, and she was willing to gamble on the fact that the stag couldn't climb or jump high enough to chase her over.

But there wasn't a building on the other side of the wall, and when her foot caught a patch of damp moss that sent her tumbling over, it was a lot further down than she was expecting. With a thump, she hit the ground, rolling several times before she hit something hard, like a rock, knocking the air out of her and probably bruising her back something fierce. Sore, scratched, and completely out of breath, she just lay there motionless for a moment, panting and waiting for her ears to stop ringing before she opened her eyes.

The sound of loud laughter jolted her into a seating position, because this far out in the forrest, she should have been alone. And it was then that she took a good look at what she'd rolled into; a...gravestone? This was a graveyard?

Getting shakily to her feet, she brushed the dirt and leaves from her dress, making her way over the uneven terrain towards the arched gate that seemed to have torches or candles of some sort brightening the way. Once there, she saw strange, metal contraptions sitting on the blackened roadways, and clusters of small, strangely-dressed people running about with bright orange pumpkins hanging from their arms. This...was not anywhere like her home! Where the heck was this?!

Approaching one of the clusters of children, she cleared her throat awkwardly to get their attention. "Where is this?" she asked, squinting suspiciously at the way they were dressed (one of them had a sheet draped over them, one of them looked...metallic? and one of them looked like a big green lizard). "And what on earth are you wearing?"

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The children turned to Beatrice when she spoke to them, but didn't answer right away. Instead, they turned to each other and whispered among themselves. Was this girl for real? Maybe she'd been partying with a bunch of other high schoolers and passed out among the tombstones. Or maybe she hit her head! No matter what the situation, though, it was pretty obvious she was confused. Maybe they should go get their parents?

Finally, they turned back to her, the one dressed like a ghost speaking up first. "You're in the graveyard, duh."

The metallic one nudged the ghost and rolled her eyes. She was clearly the leader of the group, and the oldest (or at least the tallest.) and she looked Beatrice over like she was trying to solve an unwanted puzzle. "You should know that, at least. You're the one that came from further in." She paused and then crinkled her nose. "And you don't have to be rude. Our costumes might not be as fancy as yours, but they're still awesome."

"Except Eric's, he's just wearing a sheet." Said the lizard, which prompted another nudge from the metallic child.

"Anyway, what are you doing here? If you're not out trick or treating or whatever, then you should probably just head home."

"I know I'm in a graveyard, I'm not stupid," Beatrice replied, rolling her eyes and scoffing at the children. Just because she had absolutely no idea where she was didn't mean that certain things weren't similar to what she had at home. "But where is the graveyard? Is this a town?"

And wow, that was actually kind of insulting. This was just a dress, not a costume like these little brats just said! It was a very nice dress, actually, and she was kind of pissed that it had mud all over it. But there was nothing she could do about it now, at least not until she figured out where she was and how far from home this place was.

"Trick-or-treating," she repeated, looking around and taking in all the different "costumes" the people walking up and down the street were wearing. "You're all kind of dressed like Greg and Wirt were. Is this some sort of custom or holiday where you're from?"

Edited 2014-11-29 03:56 (UTC)

"OOoooo" The one in the sheet--Eric--started, trying to make his voice extra spooky for effect. Because it was Halloween, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this pass him up. "I get it! She's one of those Dungeons and Dragons people! My brother hangs out with them. He told me they do this kinda stuff allll the time." He said with a sagely nod.

"They go around pretending they don't know where they are?" Asked the metallic girl. None of her group really knew the specifics of D&D or how it worked. It was one of those games nerds played, after all, and they weren't nerds. Besides, it was the one game all their parents swore against, claiming it would make them go crazy for one reason or another.

"Yep! It's part of their fantasy adventures."

Their discussion cut short, though--and the rest of what Beatrice said was forgotten--when they registered Wirt and Greg's names. They all turned towards her, then, with undivided attention and some amount of surprise. Eric was the first to recover, and he started bouncing on his heels, clearly excited. "You know Greg? He's the best."

"Shut it, Eric." The girl looked Beatrice over again, with a little less judgement than before. Greg was friends with all of them, after all, and any friend of Greg's couldn't be that bad. She shrugged. "So, you know Wirt and Greg? Guess you're not as lost as you're acting, then."

"What? Everyone knows dragons aren't real. Unless that's a thing you have here," Beatrice said, sounding more and more confused as this conversation continued. Sure, they had things like the Beast and large, talking animals where she was from, but everyone knew that dragons were just pretend. Dungeons were real enough, but she didn't see what a dungeon had to do with a dragon, and why she would be pretending to be as lost as she clearly was.

Who needed to invent fantasy adventures when the stuff she'd gotten up to in the past was more of an adventure than anything she'd ever want to get up to again?

The comparison to her two friends from the other world was something she expected to go unnoticed, but obviously these kids knew who they were! Was that where she'd ended up, somehow? "Yes! I'm their....friend," she said, the hesitation not born of any reluctance, but more-so embarrassment to try and put a label on people she hadn't seen in so long. "My name's Beatrice. Can you take me to them? I really am lost, I'm not making that part up, and I think they could help me."

Edited 2014-11-29 04:37 (UTC)

"Hey, Eric, Greg's helping Mrs. Daniels rake leaves again this year, isn't he?" Eric nodded in response and she hummed in thought."Well, then we don't really want to bother him. Did he say where Wirt was going to be?" The metallic girl asked, turning from Beatrice to the kid in the sheet. She was opting to just go along with Beatrice's really weird way of acting. It was easier than questioning it, and teenagers were weird, anyway.

"Uhh--I think he said he was gonna try and go to Jason Funderberker's party. I guess he was actually invited this year."

"Two dollars says he chickens out." The lizard cut in with a laugh.

"Yeah, no doubts there." The metallic girl laughed, too, and then turned back to Beatrice. "Yeah, we can take you to him. C'mon." She waved for Beatrice to follow her and the other kids, and started on down the path towards the Cemetery's exit. The two boys whispered and cracked jokes on the way out and past the football field, but the metallic girl just chuckled at the occasional funny joke and checked to make sure Beatrice was following. If Beatrice had any questions she would answer. Otherwise, she would either stick to listening to her friends or she would cut in on their discussion to say something sarcastic.

"Oh, geez, he's still just as much of a coward as he's always been," Beatrice mumbled to herself, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and heaving a sigh. It didn't occur to her to question that they were going to a party hosted by Greg's frog, who the last she heard was named Jason Funderberker, but she was also pretty sure that there'd been a human by the same name? It completely baffled her to think that the Unknown was weird to them if this was what their world was like.

But at least this meant she for sure had the same Wirt! And hopefully, he'd at least be able to help her figure out what she was supposed to do from here. If he'd been able to get back here after being in the Unknown, maybe he knew how she was supposed to get back.

"Thanks," she said gruffly, clearly not used to saying the word with any kind of sincerity, but at least the brats were helping her get where she needed to be. Pushing a lock of curly hair out of her eyes that had fallen from her bun, she followed the little group as they left the cemetery and made their way down the road. They passed a lot of houses, but they were all strangely close together, and a big, empty expanse of too-green grass with weird metal signs standing on either end. There weren't many animals, or many trees, and the entire landscape seemed to be dominated by these houses. "Why do all the buildings look the same?" she asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"Yeah, pretty sure he's never gonna change." Good 'ol reliable Wirt. He never did anything unexpected or interesting. So much so that children are betting on whether or not he was going to a party. It was kind of pathetic, really. (Though in all honesty, he had gotten a little better. He wasn't the complete wreck he used to be.)

The kids did't seem to think anything was out of place as they went. This was their world, after all, even if it was a world of close houses and neighbors. So when she asked about it they were thrown for a loop yet again. The metallic girl shrugged and looked around. She hadn't known just how similar they all looked before it was pointed out, but even then it didn't seem like a very big deal. "Who knows.The adults probably like having all the same stuff or something."

LOGIC.

As they got closer to Funderberker's party, the loud music could be heard from a few streets over. First it started as the low hum of the bass. But slowly muffled lyrics and the faint sounds of instruments could be made out across the otherwise quiet night. Other people were moving towards the music, too, though most of them were in their mid-late teens and definitely older than the gang of children acting as Beatrice's guides.

Huh, well, that made sense. Even though she wasn't considered a child any longer by society's standards, the inner-workings of her parents' minds and the minds of the other adults in their community were still a mystery to her. Beatrice was of the age where she needed to consider settling down and starting a family, lest she become an old, crotchety spinster that no one would even look twice at. Ugh, talk about things she didn't even want to think about yet. Greg had been fun to have around and all, but she was so not ready for kids yet.

It was hard to tell if they were reaching their destination, since everything looked exactly the same, but the music was a good indication. At least, she thought it was supposed to be music. There was something with a strong beat, like drums, but the rest of it was just noise and nonsense. It was loud, obnoxiously so, and even if she didn't put her hands over her ears she couldn't exactly keep herself from wincing.

"Are you sure Wirt's here? This doesn't seem like his scene at all." The music he'd played on the ferry had been so much prettier than this. It was hard to believe that he'd voluntarily spend time around something that sounded so...so awful!"

"Oh yeah, he'll be here. Just not inside. Come on, we're almost there." She waved for Beatrice to follow and picked up the pace, heading for a house near the end of the street they had just turned on. Eric and the kid dressed like a lizard ran up past her, the three of them looking around for Wirt. True to what they had originally thought, Wirt was hovering on the sidewalk in front of Funderberker's house. He paced, but tried to make it look like he wasn't pacing, which just made him stick out like a sore thumb. Every so often he made an attempt at strolling up the walkway, but he chickened out every time and just went back to looking uncomfortable.

He had spent a lot of time preparing himself for the evening. He had dressed up, planned the start of a few conversations, and had made sure Greg had something to do for the a few key hours. It wasn't that he wanted to go hang around a bunch of cool teenagers listening to loud music, but it was his last Halloween before he graduated, and he figured that since he had gotten the invitation, well...what could it hurt? If nothing else, he would be able to say he went.

His costume this year was just as makeshift as it had been a few years previous, and as such, he looked like nothing in particular. He was just--very fuzzy, in an awkward fur vest and a fur-lined trapper hat. Time had changed him, but not by a lot. He was taller, yes, and his shoulders were a little broader, but he was still lanky and awkward, and he held himself in much the same way as he had years ago.

"Wirt!" Wirt turned when the children addressed him. He hadn't expected anyone to come looking for him, especially not a group of Greg's friends, so a part of him wondered if Greg had sent them to bother him into actually going to the party. But that seemed a little silly and a lot paranoid. Greg wasn't usually one for actually planning things. They were probably just trick or treating in the area or something.

At least, that's what he thought until the kid in the lizard costume opened his mouth and practically shouted; "We brought you your girlfriend." A statement which was met by all three children bursting into a fit of laughter, like the little punks they were.

It just left Wirt baffled, though. His girlfriend? He looked around, his eyes resting on Beatrice. He didn't recognize her, how could he? He didn't know what she looked like as a human, and in the years since their meeting, he had come to believe that his trip through the unknown had been nothing but a dream. But she was the only one that seemed to be following the kids around, so it stood to reason she was who they were talking about. Was she chaperoning them?

"Oh, I'm--sorry. I hope they weren't bothering you. They're my--my brothers friends, you see, so they like to, uh, joke around! And stuff." He laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of his neck a moment before shooting the three kids a questioning look.

Edited 2014-11-29 06:31 (UTC)

The further they walked, the more the adrenaline from before was starting to wear off. It was late, she was cold, muddy, and a little damp from her roll in the mud, bruised and banged-up and absolutely exhausted from running through half the woods before ending up in this weird place. Later, she would blame the exhaustion for the swell of emotion she suddenly found herself reeling under when she saw the very familiar, but not quite the same, boy pacing up and down the sidewalk.

It was oddly comforting, to know that time had passed about the same here as it did at home. Wirt was older, and when they got closer, she could see that he was only a scarce few inches taller than her (which was surprising, because despite being a bird, she'd always thought that she would be taller than him when she was a human) and just as skinny and lanky as ever.

And dressed in another absurd outfit, but she didn't even care. The only thing she cared about was the fact that he very clearly didn't recognize her, which shouldn't make her mad, but it did, so she socked him in the arm before pulling him close in a hug. "It's Beatrice, you moron. I'm so glad you have such a weird name, or else I'd still be lost wandering around the graveyard."

She sounded embarrassingly tearful. It's not like she was happy to see him again or anything. Certainly not.

"Wh--hey, what was that for?" But he barely got the chance to finish what he was saying before she launched right in and told him. For a second, as he rubbed at the spot where she had lightly punched him, he seemed a little confused. But her voice was so familiar. He heard it in his sleep sometimes, when he dreamed of the unknown. So it wasn't long at all before the confusion turned to surprise.

"Beatrice? You're--" Of course she was human. He had given her the scissors, and he doubted she would pass up the chance to turn herself back. But once the realization bowled him over, he became acutely aware of everything around him. Her arms pulling him into a hug, one he lightly returned. The fact that she smelled like dirt and earth and the woods. The children standing next to them, still giggle about their own dumb joke.

He sputtered on words, not really sure what to say. But his uncertainty turned to a hesitant smile once she pulled away and he shooed off Greg's friends. She was here! She was here and real, and he didn't know how that was possible, but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to see her."Wha, the graveyard? What were you doing there?"
;
And then he noticed that she was looking a little worse for the wear, so he waved to anyone nearby and lightly pulled on her arm once, to get her to follow him. "Uh. Hold that thought. Let's--let's go somewhere a little more private."

Still as much of a wuss as ever, she thought in response to his protest, but she felt herself relaxing when he finally returned her embrace. It was so weird, to be near him again as a human and not a bird, because it meant she could actually notice things, like how warm he was and how it was actually kind of nice that he was taller than her, because it meant he gave really good hugs and she felt a lot safer and more comfortable than she'd felt just seconds before.

His smile, though. That was just as nice as she remembered, awkward and kind of dorky but utterly, perfectly Wirt.

"I don't know," she said, rubbing her bare upper arms to try and ward off the chill of the evening. "I was running from this...deer-like thing, and I guess I didn't realize that I was at that wall, so I climbed up and slipped over and the next thing I know, I was having to ask those kids for help and they think I'm crazy."

Unspeakably frustrated, she didn't resist or fuss when he tugged her arm to make her follow him, trusting that this was his world and that he knew what he was talking about when he needed to get them out of the middle of the street. "What are you supposed to be this time, anyways?" she asked, unable to keep herself from smiling in amusement at the furry clothes that he was wearing.

Edited 2014-11-29 07:51 (UTC)

"Yeah, well, this place isn't like the unknown. There aren't talking bluebirds or creepy beasts or. Whatever. It's" He was about to say 'normal' but realized that his normal and Beatrice's normal were two very different things, so he just shrugged instead, hoping she got the point. The kids hadn't thought she was crazy for no reason at all, and if Wirt hadn't been in the unknown himself, he probably would have thought the same.

He didn't know what to make of her story, though. A deer thing? The wall? So she must have come over the same wall he and Greg and climbed over, on that fateful Halloween a few years before. Not that he knew what that meant for her, exactly. Could she even get back? He wondered if she just needed to climb back over the wall, but that didn't seem right. He and Greg ad gone over there a few times, once they had recovered, and there had been nothing over there. Just regular woods and a regular river.

"Oh, this? Uh." He laughed nervously and half shrugged again, trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal. He's totally was totally cool, shush. "It's nothing, really. Just--60's fashion, I guess?" He had literally just dug around in his step fathers old clothes, up in the attic, and pulled out whatever. He should probably rethink his costuming skills.

Speaking of his hideous vest. Wirt noticed she wasn't exactly prepared for the crisp fall air. Her sleeves where short and who knew how thin her dress was. The vest wouldn't do too much, since it didn't have sleeves, but it was so puffy that it would probably help, at least a little. So he shrugged it off and held it out to her. "Here. We'll be at my house soon, but until then--there's no need for you to catch a cold, you know?"

"It sounds kind of boring," Beatrice said, because she was used to an element of danger spicing up her daily life. It wasn't like she spent every waking moment running for her life from one creature or another, but in a place like the Unknown, you never knew what to expect or what was going to happen next. That made things interesting, but after that weird stag thing nearly caught up to her a few times, the sharp, large horns a presence against her back, maybe "boring" was exactly what she needed.

Yawning, she furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose at his explanation. "The 60's? Is this how old people dress here?" she asked. Whatever it was, it was weird. She much preferred his red hat and the blue cape that he'd worn the last time she saw him, because his cape had been soft and comfortable to rest on when they walked. The vest had been kind of uncomfortably textured against her skin when she hugged him just a moment ago.

But if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that the hideous vest was better insulated than what she was currently wearing, so when he offered it to her, she didn't hesitate to take it. The material was still warm from Wirt's body heat, and although it smelled musty like an attic, she could smell him on it as well. "Thanks," she said, her cheeks feeling hot. "It makes my dress look hideous, but it's loads better than getting sick."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it can make anything look hideous." He half-smiled and almost laughed, but then realized what he had implied. He tried to play it cool, but in the end he was overtaken and ended up looking very noticeably flustered. "N-Not that you look hideous. You're--I mean. Urgh." It wasn't the most eloquent save, not by a long shot, but he tried. He tried so hard.

But all it did was get him all worked up. It didn't help that he couldn't seem to figure out why he was so embarrassed by the situation at hand. It wasn't like Beatrice was some random girl. He knew her! They'd traveled together, and yet he felt like a jock, giving his jacket to a pretty girl. And really, she was very pretty. Wirt hadn't thought to imagine what she might have looked like, before. There hadn't been much need to, or the time for it. But--

Gah! Greg's friends were getting to him.

"A-Anyway, no, old people don't usually wear stuff like that. It was just the popular fashion, when my step dad was younger." Wirt forced himself to calm down as best he could and adjusted the collar of his shirt. Without the vest, he looked how he normally would; Just a plain button-up shirt and khaki's. Which was probably for the best, especially since the vest hadn't been his first choice. He had wanted to wear his cape again. He was just too tall for it, now.

"Oh, but--don't worry about how you look, you know? It's Halloween, everyone's dressed up. They won't even notice the vest." And this time, he did manage to smile.

As soon as the words left Wirt's mouth, Beatrice stopped walking, an unimpressed look on her face as he frantically tried to backpedal. Hideous? If he wasn't so clearly apalled by his own word choice, she might seriously be irritated instead of just faking it to make him freak out even more. Because him babbling on and on like this was very familiar territory, and it made her want to heckle him a little.

"I mean, geez Wirt, I knew I was a pretty bird, but I didn't think being a human was that much of a step down," she said, frowning at him and folding her arms over her chest, giving him a long, hard stare before she resumed moving in the same direction. "But since it's...what'd you call it, Halloween? It can't hurt to blend in."

Before he'd stopped himself, it sounded almost like he was trying to pay her a compliment. If this was what he was usually like around girls, she could suddenly see why him having a crush on one would seem like the end all be all of his world, his "deep dark secret" as they'd both called it. Personally, she found it adorable, especially now that she was able to incite it seemingly effortlessly.

Which made her...happy? Hm. That was odd.

"And take that thing off your head, it's not doing you any more favors than the vest was," she said, snatching the hat from his head and tucking it under her arm. "There, much better." It was still odd to see him without the red hat and cape, but. It was also kind of nice to see him in what looked like normal clothes, and it made him look older in a good way.

His hands went to his head, to try and keep the hat in one place, but Beatrice was too fast for him, and had it stuck under her arm before he could even try to get it back from her. So instead, his efforts went to desperately smoothing his unruly hat-hair. Or trying to, anyway. It wasn't going as well as he wanted it to. "Wh--hey, I like that hat." He shoved his hands into his pockets and sulked a little. It was a little silly, sure, but it was warm and made him feel unique.

...Okay, so maybe she had a point, but still.

With over exaggerated reluctance--and it was exaggerated. The joy of seeing her again overrode any irritation he felt--Wirt glanced back in her direction. She seemed annoyed with him, but then again, it could be a general kind of aggravation, one that had no real target. Or she could be mad at him. Girls were hard to read, especially when they were from other worlds and used to be snarky bluebirds.

He looked away again, and at the decorated houses around them. Glowing pumpkins lit their way, illuminating the leaves stuck around the trunks of trees and in the corners at the side of the road. It was strange, walking with Beatrice. It felt surreal. Everything was so normal. There were no beasts to fight or pastures to visit, no people wearing pumpkins or singing frogs. It was just a street near his own on a rather unassuming evening, and yet here she was, right next to him.

Finally, he looked back at her, and nudged her with his elbow. "If you're going to take it, you should at least put it on. Might help with the whole keeping warm thing."

"Yeah, you liked your red hat too, and it made you look like a gnome," Beatrice answered, grinning at him and nudging at him.. "My parents always refer to you as that "nice gnome boy who ended up in our tree" when we talk about you, and I am absolutely not even close to making that up." There was something nostalgic about that hat, though, so maybe that was why she disliked this new one so much; it was the wrong color, and the wrong shape. The hat hair was much preferable to any of that.

It was a little weird, to be talking to Wirt again, she had to admit. Things had felt so...final, when they'd parted ways. So in a way, the whole thing felt surreal, like a dream, since it felt like such a lack of closure. Until now, she'd had no idea if they'd even managed to successfully make it home, or if Greg was even okay. Confronted with the reality of it now, she felt like she was the one who wasn't real, since time had just kept ticking on for them without her.

Looking at the strange decorations that seemed to be the only thing setting some of the houses apart from one another, she was startled when he nudged her back, looking at the hat under her arm. Beatrice held it out and considered it, feeling for the bun at the top of her head self-consciously. "Do you think it'll even fit over my hair?" she asked.

Edited 2014-11-30 07:32 (UTC)

"Hmmmh." He stopped and turned to face her fully, one hand going to his chin in thought as he looked from the hat to her hair.He focused solely on that, to recover more fully from his previous embarrassment. He could do this, he could. He just had to keep in mind that Beatrice was still Beatrice, no matter what form she took or place she was in. "I don't know, probably not. I mean, the hat his pretty big, but you've got a lot of hair. It'll probably just wreck it."

Which would be unfortunate, her hair looked nice, if a bit disheveled from the stag's chase, and she obviously put some time into it. At least, he assumed she did. He couldn't be sure, but his hair took long enough to smooth down in the morning. He could only imagine how long styling would take with that much more. He smiled a little, let the dig at his hat slide, and then turned away again to start back down the street. He would have continued on at a brisk pace, so he could get Beatrice inside where it was warm, but he slowed after a moment.

"Wait. You guys--you still talk about me?" He had figured he and Greg would just fade from memory, and it made him feel a little bad. He had written it off as nothing but a dream, after a while, and he had stopped talking to Greg about it. And outside his nightmares, he never really thought about the unknown as much as he probably should have. Beatrice had been a friend. Their adventure had been important, and he'd just shrugged it off and pushed it from his thoughts.

Beatrice made a contemplative sound in the back of her throat, taking the hat and kind of gingerly setting it on top of her bun. She had enough hair, and it was curly enough, that the bun was fairly sizable; big enough to keep the hat from setting completely on top of her head. Instead, it just kind of rested against her hair, and if it looked ridiculous, it couldn't be any worse than the vest. And he did have a point, it was warm. "There, happy now?" she asked, making a face at him.

And this way, it would keep her hair mostly in tact. A win-win situation.

When Wirt slowed down, she matched his pace, arching an eyebrow in a kind of puzzled way. "I mean, sometimes," she said with a bashful shrug. "Not like, all the time. But you basically met my whole family when you were in the tree, and you're the reason we're human again, so. That kind of makes an impression on people, you know?"

Also, her younger siblings liked to tease her and say that the reason she hadn't gotten married yet was because she was waiting for Wiiiiiiiirt to come back and sweep her off her feet.

"Why yes. Yes I am." He said with some smugness. She looked incredibly silly with the hat just sitting there like it was, half on her head, but it was okay. She had seen him look ridiculous a number of times, it was about time she was afflicted with some weird outfit or another. And even with the ridiculous fuzzy vest and hat, she managed to pull it off. Girls in his school liked weird vests and fur coats anyway, so it wasn't like he hadn't seen similar fashion around before.

Not that he paid attention to such things, most of the time. He just made a mental note of it and moved on.

What she said seemed pretty spot on, though, so he just kind of shrugged uncomfortably and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense. I didn't talk to them much, so I figured. I mean, I just thought--I don't know. Life moves on, you know?" He had no idea what point he was trying to make, he was just stringing sentences together in the hopes that they spoke to some kind of truth.

"Life for us can be pretty boring most of the time," Beatrice said, shrugging her shoulders and feeling the vest for pockets to slip her hands into, which she did promptly once she found them. "I'm sure that's weird to hear, considering what you went through while you were there, but not a lot happens out in the countryside where we live. So getting turned into bluebirds and having a gnome boy save your family and your oldest daughter leaves a lot to talk about."

It made her feel kind of self-conscious about mentioning it, since he seemed so taken aback. They didn't talk about him incessantly or anything, but her siblings did tease her on occasion, and her parents would make mention of him on occasion, and the littlest ones would wear kettles on their heads when the dishes were being done and they were bored. Wirt and Greg, for as short of a time as they had been there, were novel and different and had impacted their lives significantly by giving them the golden scissors, and she hadn't thought there was anything odd about that.

And it sounded like Wirt and Greg probably didn't talk about her, or any of the things that had happened, much at all.

"Are we almost there?" she asked, wrapping the vest tighter around her. "All these houses look the same, so I have no idea how you can remember which one is yours."

"Yeah. It's just--" Wirt sighed and looked at his feet, his shoulders hunching a little. "Me and Greg, we used to talk about you and-and the unknown a lot. But. I don't know, he got older, and--." He got older and forgot a lot of things, and Wirt would always hear their parents talking in hushed tones about near death experiences. It had been discouraging, and he had just...accepted that that's all it had been. A near death experience. A dream. Nothing being on the other side of the cemetery wall had only seemed to further that idea.

It had all been so vivid, sure, and he had wanted it to be something more. He'd learned about himself in the unknown, and come to look at Greg as his little brother and not a nuisance because of it. Maybe he should have actually accepted everything that happened, instead of giving it up. Not that it mattered much now.

Her question snapped him out of his reverie. "Huh? Oh, yeah, it's that house right there. Uh--Let's go." He went to grab her hand and lead her but hesitated and just let his arm fall back to the side as he started moving towards the house with a skeleton taped to the door. "And they're not exactly the same. The architecture is styled similarly, but there are little differences, like window placement and--and color. Plus, there are numbers on all the doors." It seemed a little weird, sure, given the houses really were pretty similar, but he knew how to tell them all apart and had since he'd been a kid.

When they reached his house, Wirt started up the walkway but stopped before he reached the porch, watching the shadows of his parents move around the living room through the curtains. His parents would ask questions, about Beatrice. And there was no way he would be able to explain her or why she needed to stay with them. At least, not in a way that would make him or Beatrice look sane.

"Maybe, maybe we should use the back door. C'mon."

Because of where she was born and raised, unusual occurances like boys coming over the wall or being turned into bluebirds weren't exactly things they needed to question. It was just part of living in a place like the Unknown. But given how the first instincts of the children were to assume that she was crazy...it stood to reason that people would think Wirt and Greg were crazy too, and encourage them to write things off as a dream or something similar.

"I'm sorry," Beatrice said, resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment before letting it fall away. "I didn't realize how different this place was. I guess by the time I met the two of you, you'd kind of gotten used to it, so I assumed that home couldn't be that different."

But at least it looked like they had finally arrived at Wirt's house, and when he mentioned the numbers on the houses being one of the things that helped tell them apart, she took note of them in case she needed to get back here somehow. There was a moment where it looked like Wirt was going to grab her hand, to lead her towards the house, but he seemed to stop himself before their skin could brush, opting to just lead the way around towards the back of the house.

She suddenly remembered the girl he'd talked about, Sarah. Maybe that was why he stopped himself.

"I guess if you can't talk about the Unknown, it'd be pretty hard to explain me to your parents, huh," she said, looking at the shadows through the window before they turned around the side of the house and they fell from sight.

"It's okay." He gave her a sad smile before they moved on. He just wished he had had proof, so he could have known that Beatrice was, in fact, out there somewhere. So he could have held hope that they would meet again.

He moved from the cement pathway and started around the house. The backyard was closed off by a fence, but Wirt opened it quietly and waved for Beatrice to follow him. He let out an amused breath at the mention of what his parents would think, his spirits lifting a little. "Yeah, you could say that. I don't think they would understand. They would think we were playing pretend or--crazy, or something."

From the fence, it wasn't far at all to the back door. Wirt opened it more carefully than he had the gate, making sure it didn't make a sound. His parents were in the living room, but if they heard him come in, then he had no doubt his mom would come say to say hello and grill him about the party he hadn't even gone to. And then, well, avoiding the front door would be for nothing.

The kitchen was orange and white and obnoxious, as were most things in the 1980's. But aside from the color scheme, it was a pretty normal kitchen. Just with appliances Beatrice would know nothing about. Wirt waved pointed to the stairs as he crept towards them, hoping she would follow. Once they were up there, they would be home free. The carpets would muffle any sound they made.

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