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Dahlia continued deep into the Mystwoods and it was a full minute before she heard the sound of another racer. The gallop of hooves faintly filled the air, two sets. Lasso and Rifle horse had both made it past the sphinx, somehow. Then the sound of something behind her- a wailing, not like the wisp but singular, a faraway scream. Dahlia peered into her review and spotted something blurry, indistinct despite the fact that it was closing the distance quite quickly. A vehicle of some kind though it seemed... translucent? Incorporeal?

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"A g-ghost?!" Unable to quit even in death, the ghastly racer drew ever close. The vehicle pulled up next to Dahlia to reveal a horrible twisted face behind the helmet of the car closer to an F1 racing vehicle than anything, but like it was drawn in an 60's Sunday cartoon. The thing was blurry and faded, the edges of it shifting and frayed, even up close. The ghostly face of Racer 6 with their mouth in a permanent yawn chuckled somehow and produced a similarly ghostly bomb. The bomb Dahlia had accidentally thrown their way. Ahead of her came a whinny, and rounding a sharp turn the horse duo came into view. Dahlia sped up. She wasn't sure if she could catch a ghost explosive, but would see if perhaps these two (three) adversaries would duke it out, or at least take some of the heat. But the moment Dahlia moved to overtake the horses, gunfire pelted her golf cart.

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It was all she could do to duck and avoid the worst of it, but the engine on the back of the cart had taken hits and sputtered. A horrible grinding noise filled the air. "Oh please no..." Sensing the slowing, the ghost used this chance; they hurled the bomb at Dahlia, and from this vantage behind she was unable to catch it. It didn't hit her cart but it exploded above and behind it, the airburst sending a shockwave rippling through her. Even from that distance it knocked the wind from her. The cart slowed to a stop, and Ghost Racer 6 began to hound the Horses 2. Dahlia seemed to be out of the race.

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"No, no no... I came this far! I-" She choked back sobs as tears finally flowed freely, having been (mostly) held in the entire race. Her anxiety hit it's peak. She could have won this! Umeko would be so disappointed that Dahlia had managed to squander her lead. Why hadn't she thrown something back? Tried to fight off the ghost, use her cart like a ram, anything! The engines ahead faded away as they turned and weaved further into the Mystwood, ever nearer to it's heart and the relic. Dahlia knelt on the floor and held her face in her hands.

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"Chin up, kiddo. You can still win this." The voice broke the silence, gruff and assuring, confident. Dahlia startled and stood while eyeing the wood around her with worry. A fight with a magical creature right now was the last thing she needed- but she saw the bicorn again, instead. They were smiling, somehow.

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"Wha- how? I don't even deserve to win, I'm a terrible racer..." She looked to her destroyed golf cart.

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The bicorn half-spit a soggy cigar from their mouth to hold it with their lips. "Bah, who cares about any of that? I've seen a lot of folks pass through these woods, but you, you've got the heart of a racer. I can smell it on ya. You just had some bad luck is all." They lifted a hoof and a magical fire sparked, somehow lighting the dripping cigar. It smelled of molasses and peppermint. "Plus," they continued, taking a puff on the cigar, "I friggin' hate that bastard Gregthony."

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"...Who?"

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"The prick with the lasso. Stole my boyfriend." Dahlia still felt uneasy, uncertain. She wasn't sure if she could trust a random bicorn from a magical forest, but the way they held themselves, the conviction in their voice, the cold anger- she would take one more leap of faith today. She hurried to the bicorn and found them too tall, so they knelt. No saddle, no reigns, Dahlia gently held on mane as bicorn took off. "Name's Killin by the way. Nice to meetcha." "I'm Dahlia, nice to meet you too! Let's get that Gregthony!"

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"Neigh, let's smoke those assholes!" Killin was fast, far faster than the golf cart. Faster than Ghost Racer 6 and the Horses 2, maybe, but there was still a large gap to make up and there were magical traps abound. Killin bound over a massive pit full of snakes, expertly dodged the crawling vines, charged through an illusory wall. Dahlia for her part held on and prepared. They rounded a sharp turn through the redwoods and were in range of the other racers once again. Gunshots range out as the others battled, just as Lasso Horse- Gregthony- finished performing a holy ritual and banished Ghost Racer 6 back to Hell or wherever angry ghosts went in Earth-chan's world. Rifle Horse- unnamed- noticed Dahlia and her new racing partner and threw something to Gregthony before both let loose a barrage of gunfire toward Killin. They were fast enough to juke and bait out the worst of the gunfire, Dahlia hanging on for dear life leaning left and right as bullets whizzed by her.

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"We're pinned down Dahlia! I dunno what to do!" Dahlia didn't know what to do either, but she would do what she could. She would throw something. The finish line came into view, and the final straightaway began. Cocking one arm back Dahlia took aim, leaning with Killin and ducking to keep as much speed as possible. Finally her opening showed itself and she whipped her arm forward, sending the steering wheel of her golf cart that she didn't even remember grabbing hurtling it's way toward Rifle Horse and sending them tumbling to the ground end over end in a pile of gun and saddle. Gregthony dropped his firearm and put everything he had into speed. Killin surged forward with new reserves.

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They were neck and neck, mane and mane, but Gregthony had trained for this race. He was a practiced horse, and Killin fast as they was bore the extra weight of a rider. Gregthony shrugged off his saddle and only further widened the gap. The finish line closed in. Two thousand feet. Eighteen hundred. Fifteen hundred. Killin was falling behind. All hope seemed lost. "No!-" The sound of an explosion, far back. Dahlia realized she hadn't heard the sound of another engine for some time now, only hoof. She hadn't heard from Umeko either. The woman had become so immersed in the race, so invested in victory. Dirt splattered and bark shattered just in front, closer to Gregthony, allowing Killin to get just a little bit closer to that lead.

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Eight hundred feet. Seven hundred. Another explosion rang out followed by the whistling, this time missing it's mark and going into the woods entirely. Five hundred feet. Two hundred-

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Dahlia's ears were ringing so badly, between the bloodrush of adrenaline and the bombing-induced tinnitus, she didn't even hear the third cannon shot or it's telltale whistle. One hundred feet. Fifty. Gregthony was still half a horses' length ahead; Killin didn't have the burst of speed ready to steal the win. Twenty feet. The shot landed just behind Killin, not close enough to kill or maim but close enough to propel. Dahlia and Killin were launched forward and past Gregthony just over the conspicuous yellow tape and checkered finish line. A photo finish.

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"You did it! We won! Oh my- oh my god!" Dahlia dismounted and wound around Killin, giving them a big hug around the neck, crying tears of joy along with the understandable terror of having almost been blown up. "Nah kid, we did it." They winked and held one leg and hoof up, kind of like a thumbs up, if Dahlia had to guess. The two walked over to the oddly giant-cup-with-handles shaped trophy, presumably the "Ancient Relic". The sound of a struggling motorcycle heralded a friend, and Dahlia ran back to greet her racing partner, and to offer the cup so they could both hold it up by one handle each.

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The blip appeared in peripheral again, Dahlia and Ume's chat lighting up. The emoticon had thrown Dahlia a little; it seemed whimsical in a way Dahlia hadn't expected from her companion, but was as nice a way as any to soften the impact of a warning message that heralded certain death. Dahlia braced and swerved, leaving the track in small spurts to use the trees as cover as a burst of cannon fire rained down around her. One behind, one to the side- or was it two? The whistling noise stopped as the explosions went off, the last of the bunch just barely missing the front of Dahlia's cart and sending a geyser of dirt and splintered wood into the front of the cart. She ducked behind the inadequate windscreen for the worst of the splinters but still found herself spitting out dust.

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An excited noise escaped her lips. "! I'm alive! Oh-" She'd slowed a little to let the dust settle and better see where she was going, but now getting back onto the road Dahlia was able to see more of the tail end of that humungous creature. A serpent of some kind, it held something in it's jaws before snapping them closed. It was easily ninety feet long and with the upper end of it held into the air it stood at last two stories tall. A small saddle wound around the back end of the top of their head with a small bird perched on top. It seemed to be chirping rapidly as the snake nodded. "Oh god..." How had Dahlia not even noticed this racer?

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The thing swerved suddenly, cutting away from the main trail and into the woods. A thick fog rolled in as the ground became wet and more uneven. The tree cover became further apart but the forest remained and pools of water overtook some of the ground with thick moss over everything. Further away there flashed a bright light, not quite the color of headlights but like that of fire weaving it's way through the trees. In the distance another direction away a voice cried out. "I'm only 87! I'm too young to drown!" A gurgle followed and the voice was gone.

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"Oh no..." She drove for many minutes slowly through the fog, occasionally hearing the sound of other racers various vehicles, but would hear the same few multiple times. At one point she even heard an intense hissing. After wandering for what felt like far too long to be driving aimlessly in a race the light shone once more. It got close, dancing this way and that, more and more like a flame suspended in air, but shimmering in a curious way. It was mesmerizing. It reminded Dahlia of something familiar, something comforting. She could hear a voice emanating faintly- it sounded like her sister... Dahlia snapped to attention, her body suddenly screaming with fear once more.

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"Ah! A wisp!" She slammed the golf cart into reverse and backed away from the bog in front of her where the bumper of a car stuck out of the mud, bubbles burping around it. She sped and drove, ignoring the fireball that had manifested faces and screamed, the sound of wailing souls brought to an end. Dahlia screamed too as she weaved through trunks and around bushes, avoiding muddy waters. She was somehow able to break free from the Will-O's realm and the fog parted; Dahlia was on the small winding racetrack once again. She cruised at a comfortable speed long enough to send her own message to Umeko.

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"Will-O'-the-Wisp ahead, mesmerizing light thingy that will try to trick you into dying- probably drowning. Be careful, don't follow it!" She wanted to give a more comprehensive rundown on some of the strategies and folklore but it was kind of hard to write a thesis while in the middle of a death race, and it was unclear as to whether Earth-chan's version of the being would be anything like Old Earth's various sorts. Dahlia would trust Umeko's intuition and ability.

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The engine of the golf-cart rumbled and bucked, the thing almost too strong for the small frame intended for cruising the green, not speeding down asphalt. Still, this cart seemed reinforced and ready as could be for racing. Dahlia looked to her friend one last time, noticing the camera and feeling fear not just for herself but for Ume. There was no way Umeko planned on filming mid-race, right? Dahlia doubted her own intuition there. Looking around further she spotted a group that seemed to be a trio, which felt like it was against the rules of duos-racing but it's not like there was a referee standing around.

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5

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She ran out of time to sight-see. An electronic buzzer noise began to ring out and count down the race while an announcer counted alongside it. Dahlia quickly prepared her goggles and helmet and donned an extra lower-half mask. It was pretty unlikely that she would be immolated in such an open-air vehicle, but safety came first.

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2

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Dahlia was panicking, hands fluttering to her sides and patting herself over. She was as ready as she would be for the race but the prospect of it starting was too much. Other races revved engines, a plane's propeller started whirring, a wyvern screeched. Dahlia fretted.

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1

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Time slowed. Dahlia gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead, foot hovering just over the gas. The blood in her ears overtook the 'Go'- Dahlia saw the other racers start and so she did as well. The go-cart sped along far faster than any contraption should have, and the investigator found herself neck and neck with a sleek racing car in white with a red '9' motif. Something distracted her ahead, an explosion sounding off and a car flipping end over end sailing over Dahlia's cart. A muscle car ahead had a gun placement of some kind retracting back into the car, smoke billowing from it. "I'm going to die!" A plane hovered overhead keeping speed with Dahlia, and though she didn't lean out she heard the callout over the rush of wind somehow.

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"Drop!" A comical whistling noise pierced the air from above and, in a moment of bravery Dahlia leaned out and peered up. An oversized black bomb was hurtling down toward her vehicle. With nothing in mind besides panick Dahlia swerved and whipped one hand out feeling it grow heavy. She looked back over to the white and red racer who was looking back at her with eyes wide, reflecting Dahlia's fear. She looked ahead and a turn was oncoming, but not so soon that it was pressing. Looking to her hand... she held a bomb, the fuse growing ever shorter. With a scream she flung it away and into the red and white racer, demolishing their car, then swung the wheel with both hands into a winding turn.

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The city was quickly becoming suburb, and a flew blocks away trees loomed overhead with gargantuan ancient redwoods beyond the more realistic looking forest. They'd be in the beginning of the Mystwood soon.

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Lost in this space. The flashlight lit up the inner walls well enough but the building was a maze. Well, confusing enough to be maze-like when explored in the dark. She wound through hallways that lit up with stars when shone with light, plaques describing the solar system and universe all around. Apparently Jarmy had found a planetarium. Dahlia was expecting a goblin or ghoul to pop out, the atmospheric tension mounting. A bead of nervous sweat fell from it's place at her hairline and startled her as it hit eyebrow.

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"Please just come out!" She continued through the hallways, trying to delicately pass under black widow webbing while resisting the urge to swat them away; the spiders were just surviving, same as Dahlia. Finally rounding a corner into the main atrium, footsteps echoing. A whine made her jump in place and stifle a yelp. Dahlia panned the flashlight beam this way and that, searching for a creature or ghoul, a ghost. Settling on the mainstage where an old projector sat, there came a bark. "Jar-Jarmusch?"

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From behind the machinery walked a dog, a husky of brown and white, smiling as if he didn't understand a lick of the trouble Dahlia had gone through to find him. Offering a rice cake she'd found stashed away in her inventory was enough to entice him, and Dahlia managed to leash the pup. Now was just the travel back, all safe and sound.

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It was an uneventful trip- Dahlia offered two more rice cakes in the process to spur along Jarmusch, making their way to a three story building with birds coming to and from. Reaching the top showed it to be a pidgeonry with Jarmusch's owner at the top, tending the space. Upon seeing the dog she knelt and smiled, a look of pure joy. It made it all worth it. Then thanking Dahlia for her efforts and taking the leash, the nameless person walked toward the ledge of the building. She and the dog faded into silhouettes before reaching the lip of the edge, walking off into the air and fully disappearing. Dis-apparating.

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Jarmusch and his owner... "They were ghosts?!" Still, mission completion sounded on her system. A job well done, though Dahlia was left a little shaken.

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A cold day in L.A., Dahlia had been resting after far too much ‘excitement’. Being a wanted fugitive had been hard on the heart, and Dahlia was content to spend some time sipping coffee and trying to catch up on whatever sleep she could. Regardless of her desire to be left alone, a message still wound it’s way up into her system. A request from an elderly woman to find her missing dog. The thought of standing from the hotel desk she occupied felt insurmountable, but the thought of a missing dog, all alone away from their owner…

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Well it brought Dahlia to tears. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if this mystery went unsolved, and so extricated herself from a sitting position and readied to search the Hollywood Hills for ‘Jarmusch’. She rubbed at her eyes and threw back the rest of her iced joe before grabbing another can from inventory. There was likely no adrenaline to be had here, and would need the caffeine.

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Making it to the Hills was easy enough. It was a place Dahlia had always wanted to see, but there was no time to sight-see under such troubling circumstances. The thought of Jarmusch all alone was too distressing. Dahlia had had a childhood cat at one point, and though a viewing of Shadow of the Cat had made Dahlia fearful of the animal, she only had good memories of it.

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The first few hours were uneventful, calling out from roads and trudging through brush, The Big Sign looming nearby, unappreciable. Dahlia was feeling ready to give up when she heard a bark somewhere nearby.

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Dahlia found herself excited for the first time since she'd arrived in Earth-chan's world at the prospect of working computers and the like. The one thing she'd found truly connected in the past was media and the things that inspired it, and it sounded like there might be a place where she could really immerse herself in that again. Maybe even make her own show... though it would be far, far more dangerous in a world with actual ghouls and ghosts. Still, the prospect was exciting, if terrifying also.

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Listening to Ume wax was itself inspiring, further adding to Dahlia's desire to learn. Though she had someone she needed to look for, it seemed like this world might have possibility yet. She found herself nodding too quickly in a mixture of enthusiasm and nerves at the idea of learning to splice analog, though she had no idea when she would ever need to do that. "A lot of the art of horror is in the editing , I feel. Not just the scares, either, but showcasing performances, creating and maintaining tension especially..." Dahlia felt exposed here having shared so much, but refreshed too. Hearing her name again though, she realized she hadn't actually said it once herself yet.

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Another silly mistake that could surely lose her standing, Dahlia felt embarrassment again, ears going red and eyes wide. She anxiously blurted out "Yes, I'm Dahlia. I mean-" She covered her face with her hands and through her fingers continued "Yes, that sounds nice." They just had a little detour first before they could visit Neo-Tokyo..

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The way the crowd whispered and remarked Dahlia was fully expecting a creature of some sort as if summoned by Earth-chan themselves, but her fears were assuaged slightly when they were just a short person. Her fears were of course rekindled at the sight of a coterie of actual monsters, especially the ones with no discernable mouth. Dahlia did her best to persevere, but continued to steal nervous looks at each of the creatures. The sheer amount of tomato based dishes was baffling, bordering on obsessive. Dahlia ate them sometimes but was always unable to part with the fact that they were related to nightshade, and that loud scared voice in the back of her mind would tell her one day Dahlia would eat a tomato and drop dead. Still, she was hungry and knew better than to let fear win. With a shaky voice she made her decree-

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"Um, tomato falafel?"

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The ride itself was thankfully pretty calm. Dahlia and Ume both went over the notes again, but nothing case-breaking stuck out to Dahlia, and if her partner had discovered something new she hadn't shared it. They arrived at the bodega and walked right in. Apparently the cab was off to partake in their own race, because they were gone the moment the cab's door had closed. Mateo's had a certain kind of smell, the sort that you might assume was because of the small lake forming from purposefully spilled beer, but was in fact the kind of smell that was born of hundreds of gallons of spilled beer and other substances, over many months. Today Gilda A had simply contributed to the messy aura of the place, and if there were an award for doing so her picture would likely be on the wall. It wasn't an award though, however impressive.

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Dahlia took the offered bottle and looked at it from multiple angles, unsure what she was supposed to do. If this were a procedural she would be dusting it for prints. If this were a noire, probably just setting it aside. Dahlia couldn't help note that it smelled slightly sweet. Then she still set it aside and followed Ume, stepping over discarded chip bags that had likewise been emptied about and replaced with the namesake macédoin. The clerk was not much help. In fact, none of the employees they spoke to were particularly helpful, all giving the same uncaring recounting of events that seemed designed solely for the sake of chaos. Mapping out the zigzag spree did however somehow make the shape of a 'B'; Dahlia assumed this was a useless coincidence, but filed it away.
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The insomniac was already tired as Ume lit up a cigarette, the click of the lighter making Dahlia jump slightly. Her imagination ran away from her, worrying how long it might be until her only friend succumbed to lung cancer. This world was dangerous and terror-inducing, something Dahlia hadn't needed to be scared but which had ensured that she was in a state of alert most of the time, or close to one. The thought of something going it alone only worsened her anxieties. To make things worse she was reminded of her mother. Something caught Umeko's eye however, distracting them both. "A bother?-"

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Dahlia turned to face the ad wall and was immediately confused and worried at the sight of her own face. It took a moment of recognition, immediately noticing that her hair was off, part in the wrong place. The display showed a face that was hers, but it was an expression Dahlia had never made in her life, the wicked satisfaction of someone who enjoyed going to a club just to step on people's toes on the dance floor. As the jacket turned the world a bit dark, Dahlia's shock overcame her; the poster had words plastered above and below in large threatening typeface.

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"Dahlia Mox, Wanted Dead or Alive"

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It went on to list various crimes, and Dahlia felt the blood drain from her face, her eyes going too-wide. She had never had a nightmare like this but had thought about similar scenarios a few times and was now living it. The woman managed to hold in a scream at the idea of 'machine gun drones', her breathing instead becoming one long low-pitched wheezing sound. "I- I don't remember pushing an old lady's wheelchair into traffic!" She was already crying as they hurried along, and she pulled the jacket tighter around her as if it might protect from a hail-fire of bullets. "Oh Umeko, I'm going to die aren't I?" As scared as she was, she found herself considering the mystery at hand.

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"Are there multiple doppelgangers, or could it be... just one changing shape? Ume, how did they know to take my face? Could they be close?!" The prospect was both worrying and hopeful.

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