Journey's End
The sights that greeted Rose were... Not those she had expected to see. Even the sensation of travel had been much less impressive than she had expected; it had been a bit like standing up too quickly and feeling one's blood flow down and be replaced by prickling dizziness. Blinking in the darkness, the self-styled wizard sent out a hand to steady herself. The grimy surface was cold and clammy to the touch, and she quickly withdrew her fastidiously-manicured palm. Trying to maintain her balance without actually touching anything, she tottered across the cluttered floor towards the odd pile of laptops.
Her slow steps were the most salient noise breaking the silence, which gave the perpetually-pensive young woman even more cause to absorb herself with her thoughts. Through the haze of post-teleportation dizziness, broken bits of magical theory and experimental spells floated through her mind, each offering no more clue about where or when she might be. Black lips pursed as frustration mounted, and Rose payed little mind to the new world around her preferring instead to think back to the ones she'd just left.
A dark beanbag chair that should have been obvious worked its way into Rose's path; obviously she wouldn't have been so foolish as to step on it of her own accord, so it must have moved. Either way, elegant but impractical footwear skidded on the impetuous furniture, and the rhythmic click of ponderous walking was replaced by a muffled yelp, a thump, and the clatter of an ostentatious wand rolling across the floor.
It was... An inauspicious omen.
Her slow steps were the most salient noise breaking the silence, which gave the perpetually-pensive young woman even more cause to absorb herself with her thoughts. Through the haze of post-teleportation dizziness, broken bits of magical theory and experimental spells floated through her mind, each offering no more clue about where or when she might be. Black lips pursed as frustration mounted, and Rose payed little mind to the new world around her preferring instead to think back to the ones she'd just left.
A dark beanbag chair that should have been obvious worked its way into Rose's path; obviously she wouldn't have been so foolish as to step on it of her own accord, so it must have moved. Either way, elegant but impractical footwear skidded on the impetuous furniture, and the rhythmic click of ponderous walking was replaced by a muffled yelp, a thump, and the clatter of an ostentatious wand rolling across the floor.
It was... An inauspicious omen.