Guinevere hummed as she fixed her makeup in the bathroom mirror of the club she'd snuck into, cleaning up from the bit of damage done int he scuffle she'd gotten into. It wasn't anything bad, but she preferred to look her best, and she wasn't in the mood to power down and back up just to get that magical makeup redo when she could "borrow" a nice young clubber's purse and use what was in there. It wasn't her brand, and she'd had to skip foundation because the color was all wrong, but the mascara and eyeliner were nice enough, and honestly the eyeshadow palette was cute and if she'd had somewhere to stow it she would have kept it.

She didn't get the chance to try and figure somewhere out, because while she was checking out the finished result, the mirror in front of her rippled, yanked her through, and she was deposited unceremoniously on the other side, flailing briefly to try and regain her balance.

She did not successfully regain her balance.

At least her makeup was on point, even if she was sitting on her butt in the middle of a strange room with gray, smoky walls and not much else.

"Ow," she opined to no one in particular, because there was no one to hear her.

Das Tor