Chapter Text
Michael was not in his house. Looking around, he realized that he was in an office. Not his, either.
Then he noticed that he was sitting on the ground, propped up against the wall, and that there was a man in front of him with light brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a typical office uniform.
Michael lets out a small yell of surprise and immediately checks to make sure his mask is still there. To his surprise, it is, and he calms down slightly.
The man in front of him backs up a little, seeming apologetic. He signs something using ASL. Michael knows enough ASL to know that he's asking a simple question.
[Are you human?]
That's… That's what he's asking? Not 'Who are you', 'What are you', or even 'What are you doing here'?
Michael takes a moment to think before answering. "I… Maybe? K-Kind of."
The man seems to be happy with this. [So you're not an eldritch or non-human entity?]
"...Why would I be eldritch ?"
The man ignores his question. [Oh man, another person! A real human! I gotta tell Narrator about this!]
The man suddenly grabs Michael's sleeve, dragging him along as he runs excitedly through the office building.
Eventually, he stops running and Michael's rotting brain is finally able to catch up with the situation.
At least, until he looks ahead, which makes his brain short-circuit once again.
He can't properly process what was in front of him. It had a humanoid shape, at least he thinks it does, but he can't quite focus on any real details.
He can't look away, but he doesn't want to keep staring.
The man who dragged him here seems unaffected and continues signing. [Narry! Look! I found a real life human!]
The shape-person-whatever thing seems to turn its gaze to Michael. It speaks. It had a… British accent? "Stanley, did you even ask this poor man's name? Do you even know how he got here?"
[Well… No…] The man, who's name is apparently Stanley, looks back over at Michael. [What's your name? How'd you get here?]
Michael takes a minute to snap out of his daze. "Oh, uh… My name? It's Michael, I think. And as to how I got here… I'm actually not sure."
[You… think ?]
Michael shrugs. "...Memory problems."
Stanley nods thoughtfully, as if he could relate.
The… thing? Person? Speaks up again. "Stanley, I think your new friend here might be a little confused as to what's happening."
Stanley looks at the person-thing, then back at Michael. [Oh. Yeah.]
Michael sighs, starting to get his full bearings. "I… I do have a few questions, if that's okay."
[Sure!]
Michael pauses, trying not to sound insulting. "Uhm… What- Who are… They?" He gestures to the thing-person.
The person-thing answers, and Michael can't tell if he's amused, exasperated, or neutral. "I'm The Narrator. If my current appearance is too much for your mind, I could tone it down."
Michael shakes his head, trying not to be rude. "No, no, it's fine."
Stanley perks up slightly as if he's just remembered something. [Oh! There's someone I want you to meet!]
Michael seems interested. "There are more people?"
Stanley walks to another part of the room and picks up a Bucket. The Bucket has two stickers plastered on the side of it- one that reads 'Property of Stanley' and another that's just a picture of a Bucket.
Stanley walks back over to Michael and cradles the Bucket in his arms while signing. [This is Bucket!]
A Bucket. A Bucket. Okay. A… A Bucket.
A Bucket is a 'someone', and that is perfectly normal.
A. Bucket.
Okay.