//------------------------------//
// Entry 2 
// Story: World War Fandom 
// by SolongStarbird 
//------------------------------//

	The voice was right. Things are getting interesting. Apparently we all had very similar dreams. We all woke up in an infinite expanse of white, no walls, no ceiling, just a hard, cold, white floor.
There was a stick figure, who claimed to be that voice. It told me that the internet, and the dimensions it had spawned, had been fused with the world, confirming what we had deduced. It explained that this had in turn affected everypony's DNA, explaining why everypony now seemed to be a hybrid of their fandoms. It then began to spout off a list that defined my new world genetics, which my fanfictionist brain, and already existing elephant memory, recorded down:

SolongStarbird
Male
18
Primary Fandom Genetic Type: Brony
Brony Type: Pegasus
Major Auxiliary Fandom Genetics: Otaku, Whovian, Pokemon
Primary Artistic/Creative Type: Producer- Fanfictionist
Major Auxiliary Artistic Types: Consumer- Music, Consumer- Fanfiction, Consumer- Art

I remember saying, "What?" after the stick figure said all of this, but I understand what it means now.
The stick figure then demanded, "I will be your guide. Give me a name, gender, and appearance."
I decided that it would now be he, and for some reason, my mind molded him into a chibi figure....
"I guess that I will call you what you are: Guide."
"Excellent."
"Oh, and who put you in my head?"
"The ones who brought about the New Order."
"I could have guessed as much, but who are they."
"I am not allowed to say..."
"Alright then..."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

That is when I awoke. The rest of the group seemed to have experienced the same dream. I am not sure that I have much more to say about that, but I assume that Guide will be back the next time I sleep.
The rest of the group: Two Otakus, a Sonic fan, and a Homestuck, proceeded to basically kick me and some other Furry girl from the group out of the hotel. My suspicions were right...
The Furry continued to yell at the rest of the group, and I turned to her and suggested that we just go. Her response basically equated to, "Just because we got kicked out together doesn't mean I am comfortable around... your kind." She then ran off. So, new world, new kind of racism.
I focused the remainder of the day on equipping myself for this new, and no doubt hostile, world. I found a military surplus store, and within it there were a myriad of weapons, but perhaps a bit more important, rugged clothing. I found a kevlar jacket, perhaps a little big on me, but that is fine. I still have a little bit to grow... It comes down to just above my knees, so a trenchcoat, sorta, I guess? Cutting holes in it for my wings was a real bitch, though... There were plenty of other things, too. I found plenty of pants, but I ended up having to... modify them to fit my new.... haunched?... legs. No need for shoes... Oh, and a good, sturdy 6-inch-blade Ka-Bar. No gun, not yet. I still have standards, and I don't want to kill anypony. Canteen... check. Of all of the bandanas, I choose the purple camo and tied it around my neck all bandit style... in case of smoke or something... Why? Oh whatever, I think i'm set... Wait.. A backpack of sorts would help. The only problem is that I have wings... I guess I will just sling a satchel over each shoulder. Alright... now to find a map.

-End of Entry 2-