At this point, Beverly was pretty sure she should just - take a break from the doors, maybe? Because she'd already had a few topsy-turvy adventures and thought that smoking the pack of goth girl cloves she'd picked up in the 90s with Clint, in a dark room, sounded like a better plan. But no. Curiosity got the better of her, again, and here she was. Primed and ready to step through a door alone, when all of a sudden she was basically shoved through, losing her balance and landing on the floor of who knew where - it would be her luck that the one door she ventured through alone would send her tumbling into a pit of dead kittens and lobster claws.
"I - what?" She was a little flummoxed, but let the guy help her up, clasping his arm with ivory fingers - that curled around his a moment later in a handshake, though granted she was still a little dazed.
Did he just say his name was Octane?
"Beverly," she introduced herself, trying to get her bearings, adjusting her bag on her shoulder - she'd managed to get one of those bottomless wonders, and she was eager to try it out. "I'm not sure where we are now but we're alive so I guess that's something."