All of Hammel's ladies and all of Hammel's men (Dante)

[Dante Russo]

Wow. Okay. They were moving again. Quickly. His brain was still sort of on that "God is everything" bit, trying to dissect the exact implications of that statement. It was hard for Dante to stop thinking about the big questions once he started, even if he started talking about other things, his brain was still plugging away at it. Especially tripping. Everything seemed to turn into a metaphor. Even the simple fact of moving through space. How exactly did that happen? Yeah, yeah, muscles, nerves, thoughts, electric currents-- but WHY? Why did any of it work?

"I have taken us as far as I am able, Dante.. Now you must choose our path."

"What?" Dante blinked at her. The patterns on her face made her look tribal. Nordic. A knot work band of shimmering blue across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Something else around her eyes, but it wasn't quite focused. It kept moving, and it was really distracting. Especially since he was pretty sure Charlie was trying to talk to him.

Oh! Right! They were going to his dorm! "Oh.. c'mon," he said with another blink. He grabbed Charlie's hand without a second thought and led her to his room. Of course, everything looked different at the moment, so he had to actually look at the numbers on the doors to find the right one. Even that was a challenge, since everything kept moving.

"Wait.. this one!" Dante said finally, after touching the number on his door. Tracing the shape with his fingers and making absolutely certain it was the right one. Quickly, he opened the door and pulled Charlie inside, ducking quickly through the common area to the bedroom. He glanced about as he went, mostly instinctually, since he couldn't really tell if his roommates were in. The colors were too bright, and all he saw was vague shapes that he couldn't tell what they were.

Regardless, he closed the bedroom door and went straight to his desk, rifling through drawers, making an absolute mess of what had been moderately organized before. He found a notebook, a bottle of white out, and a black marker. He tossed them onto the floor, then opened his laptop and launched Pandora. He stared at his list of stations with wide eyes for a moment. Reading was… super extra hard right now. The letters were literally moving around, changing shape, and trading places with each other. He blinked, then put his finger on the screen, reading slowly, one letter at a time.

"Shit," he breathed finally, looking around at Charlie. "Hey, can you read?"

[Charlotte Greene]

After a bit of confusion, Dante finally lead the way to his dorm. Charlie had never been there before, and even though it was as generic as anything else was, because it was new and felt and smelled different, it was a completely new and magical place. Everything was interesting, and as Dante was concentrating on numbers, Charlie was in awe of .. everything. It was all so samely different. The layout was the same, the colors were the same, most of the numbers were the same.. but it was all so amazingly different. Like this moment. Even if Charlie held her breath and remained completely still, each moment was unique and would never happen again.. And there were billions of unique moments happening at any instant.. because there were an infinite number of bigger and smaller everythings everywhere....

And then Charlie was being dragged into a room, too caught up in her thoughts to notice any of the vague shapes Dante hadn't bothered looking at. Then there was a desk... and then the desk exploded. Chaos. Beautiful, wonderful, messy chaos. Papers were thrown everywhere and Charlie was enraptured by the predictable lack of predictability. Everything was a conundrum, a contradiction, nothing was as it seemed and she couldn't help herself..

By the time Dante had realized that he couldn't read, Charlie had completely reorganized everything and placed it all back in the drawers it had been pulled out of.. Except the white out, marker, and notebook. Those things were in perfect harmony on the floor in almost the exact center of the useable space...

She was breathing hard, grinning huge, eyes wide... Organizing was such a rush!! It was chaos in and of itself because what had been chaos became the norm when it had stopped moving and become still.. so she had un-done the un-chaos and replaced everything in it's exact place where it should have been! HAH! This was like telling the universe itself to SHOVE IT and at the same time tucking a tiny tiny piece of it snugly back into bed... It was amazing..

"Can I read? ..Do you need me to read?" .. If reading was needed, Charlie was sure she would be able to read.. because what was a sentient person if not a living, breathing tool for filling some sort of need? Even if that need was something pointless, it was still a need. A cog in the movement that was everything. If God worked in mysrerious ways, Charlie was sure as hell going to be able to read! "Let's find out."

And she would walk over, take a knee, and clearly read out every single thing Dante pointed to... despite the fact that she wasn't looking at it at all. She was looking at how she could see each individual pixel in the laptop's screen when she stared hard enough.. how everything went from dots of different color to being a complete image.. and when she stared super hard, the dots of color were actually multiple colors that only became one color when she let things around it come into focus.. Everything was part of a whole, even the wholes were parts. Wow.

[Dante Russo]

"Ah!" Dante smiled when Charlie read the name he was looking for. "That's the one." He clicked on a station named 'Trifonic' and turned up the volume on his laptop. He didn't have fancy speakers or anything, so it was just the somewhat flat sound from the built in hardware-- but this high, who was going to notice? The important thing was that this station was pretty chilled out without being boring.

Dante stepped away from his desk and flopped onto the floor where he'd thrown the white out, marker, and notebook. "I thought you could color the page black first," he said, holding up the marker, "y'know, that way you can actually see the white out when you.. paint your little shrubs or whatever it is you're doing.." He tossed the marker onto the notebook and stared at it for a moment. Watched the textures in his peripherals swell like waves.

Then he decided to fall over. On his back. To stare at the ceiling. The subtle texture undulated gently as he watched it, aided by the music he'd put on in the background. His breathing went shallow. His world swirled into a mosh of texture and pattern and color. A thousand colors ebbed out of the single coat of paint.

[Charlotte Greene]

Chilled out without being boring.. Electronic and synthetic but still somehow strangely organic. This music was like an awesome, chill conundrum that existed for the sole purpose of.. why the hell not. There needed to be something for right now and this was the something for right now. Tools with their uses, no matter how important or pointless. Charlie had never really listened to electronic music aside from the bits of pop that happened to be electronic-based. This was brand new.. and awesome.. and more than a little bit appropriate....

So by the time that Dante turned back to look at Charlie, he would find her laying across his bed on her back, her head laying over the side of the bed so that the entire room was upside down. Because perspective and epicness and.. it really did seem like a good idea. This had the unfortunate (or.. was it unfortunate?) side-effect of coating Dante's entire bed with dust. Strangely enough, sitting in this position would usually be causing Charlie quite a bit of pain. Apparently lots of hallucinogenic stuff tended to make pain less of a priority as opposed to sights and sounds and each being what the other was supposed to be.. not to mention smell and feel. Man, Dante had a friggin soft comforter. And something about the way the kid's room smelled was awesome... Hell, everything was awesome. Especially with music. Cause music.

But.. wait.. there were Bob Ross things to do. Awesome happy little symphonies of happy little bushes to create and set free on the world! Somehow the stuff from the floor would be in Charlie's hands.. and instead of her moving to a place that was the tiniest bit comfortable or convenient, she was literally drawing.. upside down.. with her arms extended over her head.. and the notepad, white-out, and marker all on the floor.... and if Dante was watching, Charlie would start creating these crazy typhoon vortex swirly ..things.. That, to her at least, were freaking awesome. The lack of color combining with the absolute color of everything.. White was all colors, after all.. and they sounded as amazing at they looked...

Though.. seriously, there wouldn't be any apparent bushes. At all.

[Dante Russo]

Staring. Staring. Spinning. Swirling. Spirals. Colors. Waves. The ceiling was breathing. Pulsing. Textures undulating. Expanding to infinity. Dante couldn't tell if he was even seeing the ceiling anymore, or if it was completely hidden behind the hallucinations. He wasn't sure how long he was staring at them, but they were fascinating. Then everything went dark, and Dante wasn't sure if his eyes were open. He couldn't really feel his body. Everything was just sort of tingly.

Suddenly he sat straight up, eyes wide open. "No!" He looked around wildly for a second before his eyes settled on Charlie. Then he laughed and rubbed his face with his hand. "God, I was about to-- oh my god, I made it stop!" Then his face went blank as he thought for a moment. "Or I'm hallucinating. Well, I know I'm hallucinating. You know what I mean... Wait. Do you know what I mean? Am I making sense right now?"

Dante felt that he was suddenly much higher than he was a second ago. Of course, he couldn't tell how long a second was right now. But he had a distinct sensation of confusion. He wasn't even following his own thoughts anymore, and he couldn't remember what he'd just been saying that wasn't making sense. As he was sitting there, dust was absorbing theough his skin, because he and Charlie were both too high already to remember that they should have washed off twenty minutes ago. It was slowly sinking in through his pores. If he thought he was high now, then he was in for a surprise.

He was having trouble seeing things. Too many textures breathing. Too many sparkling patterns. Dante's eyes lowered to the page that Charlie was painting on. "Whoa," he breathed, "dude, that's fuckin' cool as shit, man."

[Charlotte Greene]

By the time Dante had nearly had his episode and asked his questions and looked over at what Charlie was doing, Charlie had filled several pages with smears and lines and textures... the entire bottle of white-out was empty and the marker was laying on the floor re-capped... and Charlie turned her head to stare at him upside-down with a stern look on her face.

"Of course you are making sense. Everything makes sense when you look at it the right way, even nonsensical things. And of course you stopped it. I know exactly what you mean. In fact, you are making so much sense that I had to not make sense in order to balance out the sense you are making. Your sense-making is that powerful, Dante." She gave him an upside-down nod and went back to staring at the dozen pages that were covered in marks and swirls and all sorts of other things that resembled abstract greyscale art.

"Arrange them when you are done making too much sense for more sense to be made. Make them make sense...." Charlie would start, just to make sure he had the right idea.. She would take two of the pages closest to her and scoot them across the floor.. lining them up and flipping one of them 180 degrees.. and the lines and swirls on one side went from random to.. damn near lining up. Obviously the pages were meant to go together. "They are a whole. Part of an everything, just like everything else. Put them in the place and direction that they must be in so that they may become their whole..."

If Dante helped, in a matter of moments the random and cool-as-shit pages would come together into a 4x3 sheet rough square.. making one much bigger picture.. and what had started as just cool would turn into one awesome piece of art.. that actually resembled some sort of new-age hyprid bush shrub plant black hole vortex...thing... and when it was fully assembled it would be far, far cooler than the individual parts.

"All things have their place, and when they find or are put in their place, only then can they be whole... Join me, Dante. Observe them as they are meant to be observed." That being.. upside down.. from the bed.. apparently.. because Charlie was scooting over and patting the bed with her hand, making room for him..

The whole piece seemed to move and vibrate and (to Charlie at least) suck the color from everything around them and blast it back out in glorious waves of audible color and tactile sound and visible texture. It was like the entire thing was in a permanent state of melting, freezing, absorbing, reflecting, existing, not existing..... In other words, Charlie was high as anything and apparently being as messed up as she was unlocked a really artsy part of her mind. "It tastes so dark.. but it sounds so bright."

Spoken just as matter-of-factly as if Charlie had simply mentioned that the sky was blue or that water was wet.

[Dante Russo]

Charlie was insisting that he was making sense. Of course, he couldn't remember what he'd been trying to say, so it hardly mattered. Words were echoing around in his head now, so it was hard to hear. But more importantly, there was some freaking awesome artwork on his floor right now, and Charlie seemed to think that it went in a specific order--

"Oh my god!" Dante's eyes bugged out when Charlie started lining the pages up. They totally went together! That was the most amazing shit he'd ever freaking seen ever! Eagerly, Dante crawled forward on hands and knees to help her fit the pieces together. It was like a puzzle with flat edges. A dancing puzzle that kept sort of changing as he looked at it..

Black and white Dante's ass. There were all sorts of colors spinning around in front of his eyes when he looked at Charlie's work. Yellow and blue, sometimes purple, sometimes green... always distorting the actual painting, bending it, shaping it, making it really hard to make it line up. But eventually they got it, and Charlie told Dante he had to look at it the right way.

When he looked up at her, confused, he saw her patting the spot on his bed next to her. "Oooh," he breathed as the lightbulb went on. Dante climbed onto the bed and hung upside down, like Charlie, covering himself in dust all over again.

"Whoa." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Being upside down was seriously disorienting, and for a moment he felt like he was falling. When he opened his eyes again all he could see was Charlie's painting, and it was mind blowing. "That," he said slowly, "it's like.. everything."

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren knocked briefly on the door to Dante’s room before letting himself in. He was dressed warmly, sporting a dark blue hoodie made of heavy fabric and a black knit hat instead of his usual baseball cap. He paused in the doorway, not sure what to make of what he’d found on the other side.

The music, which had lured him into the room in the first place, was pulsing rhythmically out of the speakers of Dante’s laptop. He looked at Dante, who was on the bed; more specifically, on the bed, upside down, arms outstretched. There was a girl beside Dante whom Wren didn’t immediately recognize, although she had all of her clothes on, which was generally a good sign.

They were doing something with paper on the floor. The room reeked of white-out. The air in the room shimmered oddly wherever it caught the light from the window.

“Uh,” Wren said, not very eloquently. “Bad time?” he asked finally, unsure that the two of them had even recognized his presence. “I didn’t see you between classes, so I thought I’d check up…”

He peered more closely at the papers on the floor; they were scattered strangely and covered in smears of white-out, kind of like someone had let a hyperactive toddler loose with a bottle of the stuff without adult supervision.

“…but I can go if you’re busy,” he said, managing to wrap up the trailing sentence.

[Charlotte Greene]

"Everything and nothing is exactly what it is.. plus all the things in between. And it is many of all of them." Charlie was simultaneously completely lost in her own artsy creation and also standing next to the door staring at herself and Dante and remarking on how silly and comfortable and carefree they both looked. How was she managing this? Anyone's guess. Blame the dust. But the Charlie on the bed was pretty absorbed in it's own thing, so she didn't actively know about the other her or what it was thinking about.

Somehow, in the midst of everything, Charlie had completely forgotten that music existed or was playing. Such an awesome thing, music, that it could make all the difference in the world even when one had no idea it was even playing. Sound waves that were visible and tactile went completely unnoticed even as they worked to effect everything in the entire room... and at least one thing outside the room.

Suddenly an open door. For several seconds Charlie was completely overcome by how different her artwork looked in the different light.. and how it was almost more than everything now that there was suddenly all that wonderful dust in the air reflecting and refracting and repurposing the light that shone in through the door. She didn't even know that Wren had spoken until she .. suddenly realized that she was aware of everything he'd said.

"Time is just an illusion. An effect of a remarkably complex and remarkably simple mind doing all it can do to define motion and experience. The time is never bad, only the ideas that exist within it.. or intention.. or the people who define it? I don't think time is bad.. But I also don't think we are busy.. simply existing. I'm Charlie.. Who and how are you?"

She didn't move from the bed.. and Charlie's tone of voice would seem to indicate that everything going on at the moment was completely normal and acceptable and that the idea of time being bad was silly, if not understandable and perhaps intriguing. Yeah, Charlie was a little high.

[Dante Russo]

Dante just assumed that the person on the edge of his vision was one of his roommates. He only vaguely heard what was said. Like.. he heard that someone was talking, but the sound turned into waves and the more he tried to concentrate on them, the more separated they became from themselves.

He grinned at what Charlie was saying though. Her voice was easier to hear, because she was right next to him. Time was an illusion indeed. God, he loved high-Charlie. She was so much cooler than sober-Charlie. Dante stretched his hands to the floor, fingertips getting distracted for a moment by the texture of the carpet.

Then Charlie asked who was at the door, and Dante realized that he still hadn’t bothered to look over. When he did, his eyes popped, and his jaw dropped, and he flailed comically, causing himself to actually fall off the bed.

“Aah—“ He slid from the bed to a crumpled mess on the floor, then sprung to his feet quicker than seemed reasonable for the state he was in. “Wren!” Dante rushed forward, pulled Wren into the room and closed the door again. Then he just sort of stared at Wren for a moment, watching the patterns dance on his face. Then he burst into laughter for no reason at all, taking a couple steps back and doubling over. “Dude, I’m so fucking trashed right now,” he managed, catching his breath.

How had he not noticed before how gorgeous Wren was. His eyes were so.. guh. The dust made everything sparkly and shiny. If Wren was paying attention, he might notice that Dante’s eyes were totally dilated. His irises were reduced to a thin rim of blue, and he was staring at Wren again like he’d never actually looked at the guy before.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed, “there’s fuckin’ dust everywhere.” He covered his mouth and giggled, realizing that pulling Wren into the room was likely to get him high too.

[Wren O'Hara]

“Uh?” said Wren again, in response to the winged girl’s matter-of-fact announcement about time. His grades in English hadn’t been good enough to sign up for philosophy, and trying to make sense of the rest of the words was making his head spin, so he latched on to what he could comfortably answer.

“I’m Wren,” he supplied Charlie with his name, albeit cautiously. “And I’m good. Er, thanks.”

He might have asked how she was in return, because that was polite, but he was altogether too distracted and even if he hadn’t been he wasn’t sure he could handle the answer. Before he could dwell on this for any length of time, Dante began to show signs of life – also a good sign – and Wren found himself being pulled into the room by the middle of his sweatshirt. Dust stirred and resettled. The sudden movement made his head spin; it had been feeling a little funny ever since he’d opened the door…

The raucous laughter snapped Wren out of his thoughts, and despite himself, he huffed out a laugh, too.

“Yeah?” Wren asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Dante was staring at his face very, very intently, and Wren blinked at him. The other boy’s pupils were huge. He could see the tiny veins around the corners of his eyes. He could use some Visine, Wren thought idly. He had some in his gym bag…

At the mention of dust, Wren looked down at his person. His dark navy hoodie was sprinkled with shimmering specks of the same mysterious substance that now all but coated the room. That was probably not good, he thought to himself in his typical, slow and easy way. He had never been high before. He certainly hadn’t planned to get high today.

Oh, well.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and a blindingly complex pattern of colors and geometric shapes bloomed across his vision. He opened his eyes, although he was too warm to be properly bothered. His gaze slowly drifted down to the papers on the floor.

“Huh,” he said, thoughtfully.

He paused, still staring.

“Should we… go to the nurse or something?” he asked dazedly, although he found a suitable place beside the still-running laptop and plopped down.

[Charlotte Greene]

"Trashed is such an ugly word. I love it." Why? Because dust. That's why. Because the word symbolized not only the idea that Dante was so inebriated that he was worthless, but also implied that he was so inebriated that even if he were to be thrown away it couldn't bring him down. Not only that, but it spoke volumes of the perception of people in this day and age about what was 'trash' and 'waste' and 'refuse' and why had noone ever been 'recyclable' instead of 'trashed'? Was this situation not one in which a person could be recycled? Charlie, certainly, had already taken some of her more trivial and selfish ideas and broken them down to be turned into something new.. Sure, she would probably forget those new ideas before she was done being high on her own dust, but the point remained. She had recycled, why couldn't Dante?

"I'm glad that you are good, Wren. It is as nice as it is unexpected to meet you." That being 'very'. How 'very'? Well.. Charlie had forgotten that another part of her was across the room.. and that the laptop was there.. and that music existed.. and that she was seeing sound, hearing color, and feeling taste. Honestly, she had forgotten there was more to her existence than this room, let alone the school. Of course, as soon as the rest of the dorm had existed, it stopped existing. The door was closed. Fortunately it was comfy and shiny and awesome in here.. and at least one person liked the thought of just how much there was to everything. Namely the everything in the art on the floor. Charlie also hoped he appreciated the nothing, too.. and the rest of it as well. Art was meant to be appreciated, right?

Then Wren was sitting, asking about the nurse. Some amount of time between a fraction of a second and the better chunk of an hour had passed and Charlie had just been staring at nothing, so lost in thought that when she'd found herself thinking the simple act of finding had banished the thoughts she'd been in because they'd been so lost. Their home was in oblivion, though.. It was where they belonged and she'd only wanted to play with them for a little while. That having been done and them having made it safely back home Charlie could look to Wren..

"We should only go to the nurse if you are injured or sick. To go there otherwise would surely be a waste of her time, illusion though it may be. If he or she has not been enlightened or put forth the necessary time or effort to understand what time truly is, we would be wasting it for them.. We would be wasting their very perception. People waste that enough as it is. Are you sick or injured? If not, we do not need to see the nurse. Besides, it's comfy here. Comfort is a thing that far too many people fail to realize the value in. Embrace it. Experience it. Feel the motion in the apparent stillness that is everything and rejoice that you exist to understand it."

And than a thought occurred to Charlie. How cool would flying be? The ultimate in motion and perspective... "Dante, can I fly?"

[Dante Russo]

Dante snorted when Wren asked if they should go to the nurse, then he dissolved into laughter again. Who went to the nurse because they accidentally got high? Well, maybe if you didn’t know what was happening, it might be cause for alarm. But everyone here knew they were tripping.

Dante’s laughter trailed off when Charlie started rambling about time again, and his mind went sort of blank. Sort of. He could hear Charlie’s words, and they evoked some kind of visual.. something or other. It was like watching his subconscious, and it was.. well it was making him kind of dizzy. But he just stood there, swaying a bit. Listening. Zoning.

Before long, the patterns, and the sparkles, and the morphing vortex of colors clouded his vision and he couldn’t see the room again. Or.. he could see it, but it was constantly moving. Every surface was breathing. Every texture churning. Every movement left a trail of color in it’s wake. There was a weight on the back of his head, he noticed.

That was interesting. Kind of tingly. Like having sand poured over him.

As he stood there, his eyes fell closed, and his head dipped. He was spinning. Falling through space. Colors lighting the darkness behind his eyelids. The tingling weight on his head started pulling. Sucking him backwards—

Dante’s eyes shot open again, heart pounding. The pull was getting stronger, and he really couldn’t tell if he just breathed way too much dust, or if he was almost sinking into a vision. He didn’t feel like finding out.

“I.. I don’t know, man,” Dante said, answering Charlie’s question a bit late, “you have wings… but like.. don’t test it by jumping out the window or anything. Because.. yeah.”

[Wren O'Hara]

From his position on the floor, Wren stared at Charlie as she talked. He pondered the word ‘trashed’ for a moment, but only a moment, because words were hard, even when he was high.

He made a sort of humming noise in the back of his throat, like a very quiet, contented farm animal.

“I’m supposed to be here,” Wren said vaguely, before he took on the task of elaborating. “I mean, it’s the boys’ floor. And you’re a girl,” he said, making his extraordinary powers of deduction evident for all to admire.

Not that it mattered, really. He’d never heard of anyone getting into trouble for being on the wrong dorm floor, unless there was sex involved, and Wren was at least ninety percent sure that wasn’t the case. His conscience struggled somewhere in the very back of his mind, trapped under a metric ton of hallucinogens. It presented to him the possibility that they might potentially all get in trouble for being really really high in the middle of a class block.

He ignored it, though. He was pretty sure that pixie dust wasn’t even illegal.

Wren looked at his hands. They were larger than he remembered them being. The patterns on his fingertips had become exquisitely evident to him. He waved his hand experimentally in front of his face; it left a trail in the air.

“I’m okay,” he said, a little uncertainly.

He paused.

“Only if there’s water,” he added to Dante’s assessment. “If there was water under there, it would be okay.” Diving off of the pool’s ten meter platform was sort of flying. Then again, water solved a lot of things. He was a very single-minded individual.

[Charlotte Greene]

At the mention of Charlie being a girl, she slowly panned her head over to stare at Wren. "You're right... I am a girl on the boy's floor. On a boy's bed. Staring at a boy in another boy's room. Brought here by a boy that I brought most of the way here on my shoulder.. I must be pretty strong for a girl." Hm. Strong for a girl. Not 'strong in general'. Why did Charlie - a girl herself - think that way? "Social programming?" Quite possible. Everything ever was full of gender roles and stereotypes and positions and expectations. "They seem so unnecessary.." Yeah.. Yeah, they were unnecessary.

Unnecessary and infantile. Shit made up by a public that was so stuck in old ways that they still went to churches to pray to god when god was actually motion and movement and everywhere and the only thing praying did was make vocal cords move and make people feel better about themselves, all asking for salvation and junk. "We always move. Even death can't stop that." Damn straight! Or wavy or crooked or loop-the-loops. However you or anyone else was, that's how it was.. cause that's what was. Movement, motion, everything. Ever. All the things. "And all the nothings." Those too. "And all else as well." Yes. Now you're getting it!

--Motion. A hand. Moving. The way that the movement through the air made the dust it passed by swirl and move and bump into other air and dust and made it move.. "Butterfly effect." Except that this one eventually stopped.. Or, it stopped to the naked eye anyway. Motion was everywhere, always. Movement and motion and everything ever. All things. All the everythings. Whose everything was Charlie? Whose nothing was she? What else was she to who?

"Water?" Ooooh.. Swimming. Swimming would be so awesome! "We should go swimming. I haven't been swimming in a very long time. Can we go swimming?" Fuck flying, swimming was way better! "Except that one can't drown in the air." True.. A very good point, even.. but one could still die of oxygen deprivation. "Only at extreme altitude." Yeah, but if you can fly couldn't you get that high? "Doubtful. That's very high up." Yeah, but.. Whatever, swimming! "Swimming. We should swim."

....Apparently Charlie was having one hell of a conversation with herself. Good luck Wren and Dante.