[color=67D3D6][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/z1WkyYs.png[/img][hr][/center][/color]

Unsurprisingly, Maive did not wake up when Verity let her fall nor did she wake when Imogen half-dragged her and submerged her in water. She only woke when Imogen nudged her; a holdover from having early-rising children nudging her awake. From Maive's perspective, she had summoned a persona, been flung into a tree, had a fuzzy conversation, then woke up in a bathroom. A normal person would take it all as a dream induced by some toilet-related disaster were it not for the sand and water.

The first words out of Maive were not of existential dread as Imogen would quip. Instead, it was of worry. 

[color=67D3D6]"Is everyone okay?"[/color]

She shot up from Imogen's side and glanced every which way. Just her and Imogen. It made sense that it would be that way. After all, having two people in a stall together was already a tight fit. Cooperative toiletry was not exactly an spacious experience for either party.

Like a bat out of hell (more accurately, a magic roach in a public restroom), she quickly sprinted out of the stall. Her worn-down and wet soles squeaked as she slid into a stop. Then, she turned and faced Imogen. Their eyes met and Maive's body bent into a fierce bow. Then she spun again and ran out of the washroom.

Of course, she didn't exactly think her next move through. Traumatic brain injuries did that to a person. It would be her first time storming a men's washroom. Thank goodness there was nobody there to watch, save for the group being put through the way-home-randomizer.

Or maybe it wasn't a good thing they were there, considering how Maive immediately ran into a sopping wet Swim McTrunks.