Robin went into his backyard, it was pretty late out.

By that, it was dark.

He groaned.

Looked at the items in his pouch.

iPhone, half empty bottle of Advil, can of Rolling Rock.

The plan was simple.

Down the beer, take some Advil, go to bed on the spot listening to music, as he waited for coyotes to take him out.

And he did just that.

He downed the beer in ten seconds flat, took some Advil and laid down.

———

"Chrom, we have to do SOME THING!" He heard a girl said in the most worried voice.

Which meant: a) Coyote's DIDN'T kill him, b) Two teenagers found him drunk in his backward.

Robin didn't know what was worse.

"What do you purpose we do?" A male voice — Chrom? — asked.

"I..." A stutter from the girl. "I don't know."

At this point, Robin opened his eyes.

A man with blue hair — Chrom? Who the FUCK names their kid CHROM? — in a weird... sailor outfit.

A blonde girl in a weird maid outfit.

"Hey there!" The blonde greeted.

The blue haired teen laughed. "There're better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." He gave Robin a hand. "Give me your hand."

"Yo, thanks dude." Robin thanked, dusted his pajama pants off. He looked down.

Empty bottle of Advil. Crushed can of beer. His iPhone.

"So uh, in for a local convention?" These kids were larpers. No ifs, ands or buts.

Fucking geeks saved his life.

"A convention? No, that's not until my sisters is to be wed." The guy — fuck it, his name was Chrom. "You alright?" Chrom asked.

"Well, never been better." Robin answered. "Thank you, Chrom."

"Ah, so you already know of me?"

"No, the blonde girl said your name."

Chrom blushed. "Lissa-!"

By now Robin noticed the third member of this band of dorks — some guy with brown hair and in armor.

Which, by the way, Lissa and Chrom. Those names certainly won their parents awards.

"Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?" Chrom asked.

Robin decided to pull a prank with these guys — just for the hell of it.

"My names Fishsticks." He answered. "And I'm not sure why I woke up in a field."

"Well, Fishsticks, that's quite the predicament." Chrom admitted. He then snapped his fingers. "By the way — is that name Plegian or Chon'sin? I can't tell."

Robin — well, Fishsticks. Chrom and Lissa were heavy in character, so he should play along too — shrugged.

Lissa giggles. "Wow, do you have what's called amnesia?" She smiles. "Miriel says that when someone doesn't remember anything!"

"It's called pegasus dung." The knight snapped, finally talking.

"...Dude. I think you mean 'bullshit'."

The knight scowled. "We're to believe you remember nothing but yours and milord's name?"

Fishsticks smirked. "Hell yeah, my guy."

Chrom interjected. "...What if it IS true, Frederick? We can't just leave him here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?"

"Just the same, milord, I must emphasize caution." Frederick answered. "'Twould not do to let a wolf into our flock."

"Dude, what are you even talking about?"

The knight groaned. "...You're an idiot." The knight sighed.

Chrom laughed. "We'll take you back to town and sort this out there."

"Hold up!" Fishsticks squeaked. "C'mon, wait a sec my guys, shouldn't I have a say in this?"

Chrom placed a hand of the his shoulder. "Peace, Fishsticks -- I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town. Now come."

———

Where ever Fishsticks was, it sure as hell wasn't Illinois.

Breezy, calm and meadows that can go on for days.

Blue skies that looked like sees.

Goddammit. This shit is making him poetic.

"So like, what do you even want with me?" He asked. "Will I be forced into weird kinky prisoner roleplay?"

"Hah!" Chrom, clearly pretending to not know what kinky roleplay means. "You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

"Ylisse?" Fishsticks repeated. "That sounds lame. Also I don't know what that is."

"You've never heard of the halidom? Ha! Someone pay this actor." The knight said, sounding extra dickish for someone LARPING.

Fishsticks furrowed his brow, annoyed.

"He plays quite the fool! The furrowed brow is especially convincing...."

"Frederick, please. This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt." Chrom explained.

Oh damn, shit, apparently there was lore in this larping group.

Fuck, they were hardcore.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order. My name is Chrom— but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

"I'm not delicate!" Lissa snapped. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes." Fishsticks wanted to laugh.

Because of the internet, the word thick has been... sullied.

"But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

"Shepherds?" Fishsticks repeated. "You tend sheep? Is that what you do?" He glances at the trio. "...In full armor?"

"Heh, it's a dangerous job." Chrom laughed. "Just ask ol' Frederick the Wary here."

"A title I shall wear with pride. Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." Frederick said, jokingly with his fellow geek. LI have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

"I totally understand, dude. Gotta stay in character 'nd all." Fishsticks responded. "And this probably doesn't need to be repeated but... the names Fishsticks. Nice to meet you..." He looked at them, noticing the weapons. "You gaggle of fellas with very realistic weapons."

"Fishsticks? I hate to beg to understand, but is that foreign?" Holy shit they're buying it. "...Ah, well. We can discuss it later. We're almost to town. Once we—"

Lissa have a horrified shriek. "Chrom, look! The town!"

That's when Fishsticks smelled smoke.

Coming up next:
CHAPTER TWO — THE GRAND PRINCE AND ME (A MAN FROM THE 21ST CENTURY)

In which Fishsticks realizes the people who found him are in fact, not larping.

Yikes.