OBP/Firebrand

Diane had covered her eyes before the flash, though still she found herself disoriented, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, and lying down.

As her senses returned to her she could feel warm fur on her skin. Bare skin. She instinctively tried to cover herself once she realized she wasn't wearing anything, believing she was surrounded by her friends. As her vision cleared though she realized that she was in a small cloth hut, or perhaps a large tent, lying on a fur-covered bedroll, and that not including those she could hear stirring outside, she was alone.

With her in the hut aside from the bedroll was a chest with a flat top, on which a few pieces of clothing lay as well as an unlit candle and a hand axe, a short wooden stool, a wood bucket, and a round wooden shield which leaned against the chest.

Realizing her privacy- however thin -she let the fur she was holding to herself drop, and noticed for the first time that her body wasn't as she remembered. Her skin held a tan, something it never did before no matter how much sun she'd gotten, only burns. But moreover under the skin she could see- and feel -muscles. Most impressive, and easiest for her to make out, were her abs. Along with the appearance of the muscles, as she moved it felt effortless, she felt powerful.

It didn't quite hit her what was going on until a strand of hair fell in front of her face. Vibrant and truly red, a red rare or impossible to have naturally growing from someone's head, and it was in fact growing that color naturally she could tell from looking a little further down.

She scrambled for a mirror or anything reflective in her hut. The axe was beaten and none of it reflective enough to use, so she threw the chest open to dig through.

More articles of clothing on top, mostly skins, leather, and fur she noted. A few daggers of varying descriptions yet still none reflective enough to see anything, some boxes of jewelry that consisted mostly of bracelets and a few pins and hair accessories that looked rarely used, none of it gold or any other precious metal. Some bottles without labels wrapped in cloth that she swore burned off her nose hairs when she gave them a sniff, one of which was nearly empty. Near the bottom, within a bundle of more bedding she felt and unearthed several wood and stone carvings, oblong and smooth in varying shapes and sizes that she couldn't quite guess the purpose for.

Finally, as she was about to give up, she found what looked like a silver mug, clean and decently polished. The sides were no good- unless her head really was shaped like a bowling pin -but as soon as she looked into the flat underside of the mug she gasped. Staring back at her was a face she had looked at a fair few times especially in the days leading up to the game. She looked just like the drawing Michael had done of her character, in fact she had her copy paperclipped to her character sheet, as many of the others had done.

This was the surprise, she guessed. Somehow Kent brought them- or at least her -into this world as their characters. Or made them- or her -hallucinate it that way at least. Well, unless... but of course that couldn't be the case, could it? She couldn't possibly have dreamt everything she remembered before today. Right? No, she hadn't, she decided that was the truth. But, what to do about it then?

Whatever might have happened, there was nothing to be gained by sitting naked in a tent all day. Well, nothing she needed anyway.