[holo: Sanctuary] :: hallo, können Sie mich anschauen, brauche ich nicht zu passen
The transition was a jolting one, even for him. One minute he was in the training room, going through his usual routine (left-kick-right-shin-spin-front-behind-shove-front-catch-over, a constant mantra repeated endlessly, all a flurry of movement and smoke almost too fast to follow), and the next he was...
Kurt skidded to a stop (or tried to) as he hit the unfamiliar surface, floor giving way where it shouldn't and leaving him a tangle of limbs and dissipating blue smoke as he tumbled into the momentum. He managed to end up in a crouch, more because instinct forced muscles into long-practiced forms than by design, but it still managed to give the impression that it had been the intention all along; the show must go on, even if the venue changed halfway through. He rose to his feet and brushed himself off, momentarily sparing a moment's disappointment over facing a potential crisis in gym clothes, but it was only a passing thought. He was an X-Man, after all; he could face a crisis in his pajamas if he had to. Or less, although he would have preferred to avoid that particular scenario. A quick glance around showed that no, he really wasn't in the mansion; while the clinical tone certainly wouldn't have been out of place for the rooms they used for practice, it wasn't one he could remember ever having seen before.
"Vell, vee are certainly not in Kansas anymore," he observed with a certain degree of puzzled amusement, German accent readily apparent. "Hello? Anyone here?"
No immediate response, but Kurt wasn't discouraged. A test jump from where he'd landed to a point a few feet in front of him, a move accompanied by more swirls of smoke and a loud "bamf" as he first disappeared and then reappeared, proved that whatever had happened he at least still had his teleportation, which was a start, and an improvement over some of the situations he had found himself in. His tail, dark blue like the rest of him and barbed at the end like a demon's from Dante's Inferno, swished behind him in agitation while he considered the situation. Further investigation, accomplished through a haphazard circuit around the room taken in short "jumps" supplemented by physical inspection of his surroundings, revealed no doors, windows, or in fact any obvious means of exit at all. And without knowing where he was or how thick the walls were, he wasn't about to just 'port out. Problematic.
"Take me to your leader?" he hazarded when no response seemed forthcoming.
Kurt skidded to a stop (or tried to) as he hit the unfamiliar surface, floor giving way where it shouldn't and leaving him a tangle of limbs and dissipating blue smoke as he tumbled into the momentum. He managed to end up in a crouch, more because instinct forced muscles into long-practiced forms than by design, but it still managed to give the impression that it had been the intention all along; the show must go on, even if the venue changed halfway through. He rose to his feet and brushed himself off, momentarily sparing a moment's disappointment over facing a potential crisis in gym clothes, but it was only a passing thought. He was an X-Man, after all; he could face a crisis in his pajamas if he had to. Or less, although he would have preferred to avoid that particular scenario. A quick glance around showed that no, he really wasn't in the mansion; while the clinical tone certainly wouldn't have been out of place for the rooms they used for practice, it wasn't one he could remember ever having seen before.
"Vell, vee are certainly not in Kansas anymore," he observed with a certain degree of puzzled amusement, German accent readily apparent. "Hello? Anyone here?"
No immediate response, but Kurt wasn't discouraged. A test jump from where he'd landed to a point a few feet in front of him, a move accompanied by more swirls of smoke and a loud "bamf" as he first disappeared and then reappeared, proved that whatever had happened he at least still had his teleportation, which was a start, and an improvement over some of the situations he had found himself in. His tail, dark blue like the rest of him and barbed at the end like a demon's from Dante's Inferno, swished behind him in agitation while he considered the situation. Further investigation, accomplished through a haphazard circuit around the room taken in short "jumps" supplemented by physical inspection of his surroundings, revealed no doors, windows, or in fact any obvious means of exit at all. And without knowing where he was or how thick the walls were, he wasn't about to just 'port out. Problematic.
"Take me to your leader?" he hazarded when no response seemed forthcoming.