FissionMailed

[Arthur Emmerich walks down a pristine white hallway, a lab coat tucked over one arm, notebooks full of thin, spidery writing in his hand.  He is paying more attention to his lab notes than to anything else, and it is late enough at night that his mind is minorly foggy and more prone to wandering.  His eyes ache from spending too much time doing research and not enough time sleeping.]

"God."  [He pushes open an unmarked, unremarkable door, walking into that next corridor without even glancing up at his surroundings.]  "This can't be right.  I'm going to have to do it all over tomorrow..."  [He sounds mildly irritated, and gives a little sigh.  Then he looks up, glances back down at his data, and pauses.  He looks up again, gazing around at his environment as though he had just seen it for the first time.  This... does not look like the hallways of the Gesellschaft fur Schwerionenforschung research institute.  The complete lack of German on signs, and, of course, the utter lack of <i>signs</i> in general clues him in to that.]

"What in the world...?"

[Arthur adjusts his glasses on his face and walks a little further down the hall, trying to see if there is something he recognizes.  Nothing... with a little shrug, he decides to go back the way he came.  Must've gone through the wrong door.]

[There is just the little minor fact that there is no door from where he could have sworn he came from.  There is instead a resolutely blank wall with nothing even vaguely door-like about it.  That is extremely unusual because, as far as Arthur knows, inanimate objects do not just get up and wander off on their own, and he didn't think that he was currently quite out of possession of his mind.  Which means that something else entirely is going on here, and he is not exactly amused about it.]