I do not know the title(s) of the book(s) the narrator references, but I recall reading at least one, possibly two, about characters stepping into a D&D-like world.
The borders moved at night, usually on the nights when both the moons were dark.
It wasn’t like those books I’d read as a kid, the ones about living in a roleplaying game. There weren’t dark lines on the ground. The world hadn’t reshaped itself into hexes. And, whatever the rules were – and only a select few were actually told – we didn’t, quite, have to limit our movement to gridlines.
That much was different.
Considering what we had, though, I think I would have taken the solid black lines.
You’d wake up in the morning, and you’d have finally gotten used to the ‘verse you were living in. You understood the rules. Maybe you’d found someone who had been a fan, or who had all the books. They knew what was going on, and they could share. Or, if you were particularly lucky (or particularly unlucky), you’d ended up in a ‘verse you yourself knew by heart.
(Don’t think that could be unlucky? Think how popular Vampires have been recently. And Zombies. Those ‘verses aren’t any fun at all).
So you knew what was going on, again, enough to function. And then you’d wake up to find that the border had shifted, and your house – or your place of work, or the corner grocery store, or all of it – was suddenly in another ‘verse.
Sometimes the borders were easy to cross and you could manage commuting between ‘verses to get to work (if your job still existed). Sometimes, however, they were damn near impossible, and you’d find yourself on an epic quest for The Right Key just so you could get a gallon of milk.
Crossovers weren’t nearly as much fun as they’d seemed in the fics.
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