One minute, he'd been nodding off pricing a carton of incense cones: the price of a long night spent around the table behind his GM screen. The next, he blinked, jerked himself awake, and found himself standing outside what looked like some sort of gate.

Ral rubbed at his eyes and glanced around, deciding his subconscious had really done a number on him, this time.

"June's gonna kill me if she comes in and finds me asleep." He tried to pull himself awake, as he was sometimes able to do, but when nothing worked, his eyes narrowed in concern. He stretched one arm out, holding it paralell to the ground, fingertips spread wide, and his frown deepened as he felt ... nothing at all, save a slight breeze. "Fark."

He took a deep breath, held it. Looked inward.

Hey. Are you in there? I could use some of that insight of yours, abuse aside.

The Cat, for once, gave him no answer. He turned around, tried to push at the Gate, and found only resistance, like so many others befire him.

"What the hell...?"

He stepped away from the gate, further into the street, and knelt down, pressing his hand to the ground, his trenchcoat pooling around his ankles, shaggy layers of auburn hair falling in his face. As if waiting for something ... or feeling for it.