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Christian Spade (longcon) wrote in bellumlogs,

For the first time in what must have been months, Christian had called it an early night. He was already in bed when midnight rolled around, reading up on the architectural history of the New York Public Library. He dropped onto the ground with a thud when the bed and room around him suddenly evaporated, leaving him shirtless and alone in a doorless room.

He wasn't in New York anymore, at least not if the sunlight was real. The room was decorated in the most absurdly perky manner he had ever seen, and what seemed to be a proper high tea had been laid out.

This was another one of those building things, he knew. At least this time he had retained control of his own faculties. He wouldn't have minded the twelfth century garb though, not if his only other option were a pair of maroon pants.

Christian had just begun to study the plaque when a sound behind him alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in the room. He turned around quickly, but quietly, so as not to startle whoever it was that had joined him in this strange place. "Not only is this place the weirdest I have ever lived, it has a sense of humor I just don't get," he said by way of greeting. "Today I think it's trying to cheer us to death."