#co-authored lovingly w the irl cinnamon xochitl~

[badscientist]

Starstruck [Teaser]

Believe it or not, you wake up.

You have trouble believing this because the last thing you remember is hurtling helplessly through deep space with not a breath of oxygen left. But you especially have trouble believing this because you're currently staring directly up into a beautiful blue sky filled with cottony white clouds.

Thing is, it's been years since you were last on Earth.

You sit up and try to orient yourself.

When you realize you're still in your spacesuit, it follows that nearly dying out there was not at all a dream.

But, where exactly are you now?

The world around you is vibrant. The grass is long and emerald green, swaying gently in an unfelt breeze. Butterflies in a rainbow of colors flit among the flowers lining the road you find yourself on. And it is a curious road, composed entirely of shades of yellow brick gradating perfectly into one another, creating stripes that shimmer in the warm sun above.

"Whoever did this has way too much time on their hands," you mutter aloud. "Kinda weird, actually."

...You still find it pleasant to look at nonetheless. You start down the road -

Annnd double over in pain. You weren't supposed to do that. Oh - but you straighten out with a grunt, and march onward! You're not going to let nearly dying phase you for long, are you? Of course not! You have to figure out where you are!

Every tree in your line of sight bears several kinds of fruit at once, ripe and ready for the plucking. After a seemingly endless supply of the Foundation's dried rations specially tailored for astronauts, the sight makes you salivate, and you're sure the rolling farmlands in the distance have an equally appetizing assortment of crops.

Overcome with hunger, you examine the fruit trees more closely. There was a little bit of everything you could possibly want, and they all looked mouth-wateringly appetizing! Apples, pears, pineapples, dragon fruit, bananas-

"I'm actually allergic to bananas," you say.

The bananas vanish before your eyes.

You jump away from the tree in shock. "No way this place is real," you say. "It's too weird!" Hmph. You're a little rude, aren't you? "How's that rude?! Who wouldn't be weirded out in this situation?" you ask. You think you should be a little less rude to the one trying to tell your story.

"What?! Wait a minute," you mutter. "I don't think that! What the hell's happening?! HEY! IS SOMEONE THERE?!" You look around for whoever it is that is narrating your story, but you really weren't supposed to realize I was here.

"You better show yourself!" you cry out.

You swing your arms wildly, and - hey! You can't do that! Stop that! You're going to knock it all out of place and

need you to just calm down

g o n r u the story play along, won't you?! hey this isn't funny a

aaaa aaa h a listen e c a n h l I NEED YOU TO STOP s y l o . u s h e o a r ? l m p e c i n

Cinnamon Xochitl Maeweather finished rearranging the letters falling from above to their liking, and nodded. Nobody was gonna tell them what they were thinking and feeling, especially about this bizarre world they'd found themself in. What kind of tree grew every imaginable fruit, anyway?!

They started down the road on shaking feet. This place was unreal, but the pain they were in sure as hell wasn't. They stopped, bowing over and putting their gloved hands on padded knees. Their vision distorted briefly. When it was over, the crack in the visor of their helmet was in focus.

A flash of something came back to them, then; the reason that crack ended up there in the first place. Someone had struck-

And the flash was lost amidst an angry twittering above. A bird with shining pink and purple feathers divebombed their head. Cinnamon ducked with a gasp.

“Whoa! Shoo, shoo!” they yelled.

The bird squawked noisily as it came to rest atop their helmet. Cinnamon listened more closely; that lilting voice again, the one narrating them not moments ago among the bird’s irritated tweeting.

“- and I was TRYING to tell a, WONDERFUL STORY, and you had to go ahead and-”

Gently, Cinnamon pinched the birds beak shut. The voice stopped, and remained quiet even once they pulled their fingers away. As the time it spent not speaking increased, Cinnamon got the impression that the continued silence was a result of the speaker now feeling quite stunned.

“Okay, bird brain. I’m gonna ask you some questions. First. Where am I?” Cinnamon asked.

The bird fluttered away. It alighted on a nearby fencepost. It draped a wing across its breast in a gesture that was unmistakably a bow.

“You’re in the Land of Oz!” it chirped.

“Oz? Like that old movie?” Cinnamon asked. “I don’t remember there being a weird talking bird in it, though.”

“No, no movie! This is simply the Land of Oz! And I am not a, weird bird!” it exclaimed, hopping madly. “I am Zo!”

“So, Oz backwards?” Cinnamon asked with a grin.

The bird fell silent again. There was an unamused air about it.

“I’ve never been, good at coming up with names,” the bird admitted. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Cinnamon,” they replied guardedly. “Next question: how’d I get here?” "You fell from the sky!" Zo said. "Am I dead?” "Certainly not!” "Then how am I here?!" "It's as I said! You fell from the sky!"

Cinnamon groaned. This conversation was going nowhere. With an indignant peep, Zo perched on their shoulder.

“What does it matter how you got here? You’re, here!” Zo said. “But if you keep moving forward, maybe you’ll find the, answer to your questions!”

“And what’s forward?” Cinnamon asked tiredly.

“Why, the Great Wizard of Oz!”

Cinnamon rolled their eyes. “And I’ll bet I’m meant to follow this here yellow brick road to get to the ‘Wizard’, right?”

Zo fluttered excitedly.

“Now you’re getting it, sunshine!” it peeped. “The Great Oz knows everything about the Land. I would say the, journey to see them is well worth it!”

Cinnamon gagged at the nickname, and looked skyward. Nothing but endless, perfectly blue sky. They looked back on their starting point, where they’d supposedly fallen. There wasn’t so much as a scuff on the road, scattered foliage or pieces of ship debris, nor any signs of witches caught beneath houses. No, there was nothing at all there to indicate an impact, as if they’d simply spawned into the Land out of thin air.

Somehow, that unnerved them more.

“All right,” Cinnamon said. “We’re off to see this Oz, or whatever.”

-

You travel along the yellow brick -

-

“Don’t you start that again!” Cinnamon said, flicking Zo’s tiny head. “I don’t need a narrator!”

The bird peeped sadly.

“But it’s been so, long since anyone’s come to the Land! Can’t I do it a little bit?! I can tell you about things you can’t see on your own!” Zo said. Inexplicably, it winked. “You could say I have a bird’s eye view of the Land, after all!”

Cinnamon thought on it. Corny pun aside, that could be useful.

“Fine. But I tell you what I do, and how I feel,” they said.

“Deal!” Zo chirped.

-

“I’m about to follow the yellow brick road,” you said.

So you do! What do you see!

“That’s your job!” you called up.

Oh, right! AHEM. Wide swaths of picturesque land stretch on before you. The road continues straightforwardly toward the horizon, but you take note of a divergent path to your left, leading to a quaint little town with houses in a rainbow of colors.

Do you continue onward, or do you visit the town?

“I’m visiting the town. There’s bound to be someone I can ask for help, or get real answers from,” you said.

Well, I already told you that the Great Oz can help – oh, you’re already making a run for it to the town. I can work with that! After all, it’s not the destination that’s most important.

I’ll spin you a tale so good, and so masterful, you’ll never want to leave. ::)