[Magic. Magic is Maggie, and she grabs on to the association as hard as she can. Suddenly they're in an office, wood-paneled and filled with oddities, radiating safety. A different Saturday nestles against an orc girl - her best friend. They're napping on a couch facing a broad window looking out across a curving bay at a vast, fantastic city. Airships hang at anchor from spires that shouldn't be possible, branching into skyways and broad balconies. It gleams in the afternoon light.
They both sleep like people who aren't getting enough of it, and rarely in this kind of security. The Saturday of now hangs on to it, and the peace it brings.]
No idea. It just happens, probably the Stuff - dunno how to make it stop, it just ends on its own.
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They both sleep like people who aren't getting enough of it, and rarely in this kind of security. The Saturday of now hangs on to it, and the peace it brings.]
No idea. It just happens, probably the Stuff - dunno how to make it stop, it just ends on its own.