Blasted... future magic... backwards technology nonsense. [ Cue Arthur Pendragon having a wrestling match with something like a glorified toaster. He’s looked at the pretty pictures in the instruction book and he’s doing everything right, except he’s left to just keep pushing the toaster in and let it pop up, and in and let it pop up because the thing isn’t pulled into the wall. In a frustrated huff, the thing gets tossed off to the side, making a loud clang before his eye catches the device and its red, blinking On light. He sighs, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. ]

Honestly, if it’s meant to be passed off as some sort of new science, you might want to have it at least make some ounce of logical sense. If I’ve to chant a ritual and shake some chicken bones just to warm a bit of bread, no thank you, I’ll go roast the woodland critter I saw on the balcony moments ago. [ Arthur’s roommates, do not be surprised if you see him setting a campfire in your kitchen. ] Right. Hunting and gathering it is. Don’t mind m-- What in...

[A drop of something yellow lands in front of Arthur, followed by another, and then another until the - well, until the empty air above Arthur’s head opens up and it starts raining. Indoors. Yellow rain. There’s a large chance it’s not just dyed water to freak him out :’| ]

[ There’s a moment in which Arthur is standing, very unfortunately looking up, and squinting while he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, and then - horror. Mortification. His life is the absolute worst. There’s a string of incoherent beginnings of complaints that never really get finished as the man, noble knight that he is, takes the tossed aside toaster and attempts to use it as an umbrella. ]

[The sudden storm doesn’t pay any attention to Arthur’s impromptu umbrella - nor, it seems, to the laws of physics as it starts pelting him from the sides, horizontally. There doesn’t seem to be anyone nearby who’s causing this to happen, but the camera catches a small mirror scuttling by on gold wire legs. Anyone listening will be able to hear the sound of feminine laughter, and if you catch sight of the mirror, you might see a flash of black hair. On the floor, the rain starts to gather into the shape of a griffin]

[ Sputtering and wiping at his face frantically, he eventually gets a moment to view the shape on the floor and it dawns on him - his voice roars through the small housing unit. ] SNOW WHITE!

Among us transports, how many used to be involved in their world's justice system? As police, lawyers, detectives, judges, [ heroes ] and the like. Nobody's required to answer, of course, but I'd like to know. Curiosity, if you will.

[ He goes for text for once because he doesn't feel like broadcasting - it's been two weeks since the VR and if nothing else he still believes in keeping up appearances, the instinct to pick up and carry on for his goal more deeply rooted than almost anything. What goal, he's wondered so much for so long lately, but he found an answer at home and there's no reason to let go of it now. ]