follow your feet home, old man///squarkingloudly, closed
Holes between universes, tears in the fabric, worn out walls when the gods fail to doublecheck their work. They're all fun- dangerous, sometimes, but fun. Usually, things just tear through to your kingdom, but this time your walk took you to a far different place than you'd imagine.
At first, you thought there were just loads of smokeborne fae about, but the acrid air and puffing machines told you different. this is new, and you don't know where to go. With a little work, you twist your cape into a cloak, hunching and holding your head under the fabric. To the casual looker, you just look like a heavy smoker in regal clothes.
It doesn't take long to pick up on familiar souls about. There's a house, a new one, with someone inside you know painfully well. You know he's not yours, you know you should look for a way out, but you quietly knock on the door all the same.