Elle
Serenity cracks her knuckles. "So, what else do you have for me?"
"I have a question about the government." I ask.
"I'll answer what I can, than." She answers.
"Okay, well. How does the government work? Like, I know that transferring dimensions is illegal, but how would they catch somebody if they were to go to a different dimension? How could they contact the other dimension in order to catch the criminal?" I ask.
"Okay, well. Think of it as a hierarchy. Each dimension has their own specific governments, to rule as they choose. On top of their governments is the Seven. The Seven include four queens and three princes. Each rules their own thousand or so dimensions. They each have a court that they lead as well. They pretty much prevent the dimensions from ending before it should, and they also make new ones when an old one dies." She says.
"So, wait. The Seven are the ones who want my sister in jail? Then why is Jaylemm's officers fighting to catch her?" Jemma asks.
"Well, there's only seven different dimensions that actually know dimensions exist. Jaylemm is one of those seven. The other six are ruled by different queens or princes, so I couldn't tell you." Serenity says.
"Are all of our dimensions that we've come from ruled by the same person as Jaylemm?" I ask.
"Not sure." She says, shrugging.
"How do you not know?" Jemma asks.
"Don't be stupid. I'm not god, I don't know the answer to everything." She says, "Now, anybody else have a question I could waste my precious time with?" She asks, looking at Laye. She had been quiet this entire meeting. Laye blushes, looking away.
Serenity frowns, and stands up from her chair. "Okay, then. I'll show you the door."
Laye was seventeen, loud-mouthed, and overall a punk rock wannabe. It was difficult to imagine her with a girl this mature and well-balanced, even if they were the same age. Jemma leaves first, and I follow. Laye gives Serenity a look I couldn't describe, like anger and sadness and confusion and a small bit like sympathy. And then she leaves, too.

We stop at a cafe, where I pay for me and Laye's coffee and Jemma's tea.
"I wonder if we'll feel it when we're transferred into our mortal bodies." I say, taking a sip.
"I'm hoping we don't. Maybe it'll feel like nothing, or like getting hit with a splash potion." Jemma says.
"Wait, do we all look like what we look like in real life?" Laye asks.
"Um, I've got more freckles, and my hair is more coppery and curly. And there's the obvious thing that I don't have elf ears in real life." I say.
"My hair is a bit curlier, too. Uh, I think I might have a shade darker skin color? I don't really know. I'm a bit thicker in real life, I guess." Jemma says, and we both look at Laye.
"What? I look the same in real life. Same lanky body, blue hair, though my roots may need to touched up, and same taste in clothing." She says.
"Wait? You're really that pale in real life?" Jemma says.
"Uh, rude. Yes, I am this pale in real life. It's not a medical reason just the way I was born."
"White skin, black hair, rosy cheeks, you might as well be Snow White." Jemma says.
"Uh, what's Snow White?" Laye and I both ask.
"You know, the old Walt Disney movie?" Jemma asks.
"Um, I'm pretty sure the Walt Disney in my world is a criminal. I think I did a research paper on him for school. One time he smashed a couple mice with a hammer in town square. You watch movies about him?" Laye asks.
"I don't even know who this guy is." I say.
"Well, whatever," Jemma says, finishing her cup.
"What do we do now?" I ask.
"I guess we portal back to Dasen Street. That's where you told that man we lived. Is that a lie?" Jemma asks.
"No, the town is actually called Dasen. Have you not read and of the street signs?" I ask.
"Nope." Laye says.
"My excuse is I've only been her for a week and a half." Jemma says, crossing her arms.
"How are we going to get back? I don't really feel like walking." Laye says.
"I don't know how to make a portal, do you?" I ask to no one in particular.
"No, I don't. And I don't think any of us know how to use that teleportation power, either." Jemma says.
Laye throws her head back and groans. "I guess we're walking, then."
"Well then I guess we better get going if we want to get home before dark." I say, standing up.
The bell sings as we open the door, and a lady with pastel pink hair and a dirty coffee stained apron says to have a nice day as we leave.