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brush away your hair :O :O

Ooh, before you fix your hair, perfect time to do a wacky "The Ring" reference!
>Fix your hair.

Bina isn't sure that there IS a 'wacky' way to reference "The Ring", so she just pushes her hair out of her face normally.

>Is Piotr okay?

Piotr seems all right. She doesn't seem HAPPY about any of this, and Bina is pretty sure she peed herself when… whatever just happened was happening.

The little dog wriggles until Bina lets her go.

She doesn't look hurt. Just upset.

Beagles do 'looking upset' surprisingly well.

>Have a look around for a calendar or something
Maybe you're back in your own time? Please?

Oh man, that would be great, but Bina's pretty sure that this office, if it existed at all in her time, would be very different then it looks now.

She can make out the experimental beets in the gloom.

Even if the place were hermetically sealed, those would have rotted away. No. She's pretty sure she's still…

Bina's not sure if 'in the past' is the right description. She was in the past just a few seconds ago. With Josephine. But this?

This doesn't feel like anything.

> Everything fine?

Bina's not feeling great, but she wasn't feeling great before. Everything went crazy before she could get any painkillers from Josephine, so she is pretty much covered in ouch right now, and her cut arm is itching something fierce.

She would commit… well ok, not MURDER, but some kind of lesser felony for an aspirin and a quiet room to lie down in. Maybe cheque fraud or something.

> Examine room. See anything different?

It's pretty dark. The lights in the room are off. The overwhelming stink of powdered stone vanished when the wind did, and now the air just sort of hangs their limply.

Like a dead thing.

But even without much light she can see that THAT wasn't there before.

She… thinks.

Wait, no.

She DID see that message before. Didn't she?

Her head starts to hurt.

When she came through the door. She touched the letters. They felt waxy.

She just doesn't remember, remembering it. Until now.

She has no idea what the words mean, or who might have written them, but this room no longer feels safe. Not in the slightest. The dead, colourless air feels swollen.