Booker stumbled, then stood very still as he appeared, and blinked. This was definitely not what he had been expecting. Most of the time, when you showed up somewhere without an idea how you'd gotten there, there was shock, or possibly sand, or maybe just crazy people yelling at you. At least for the sheer oddness of you standing there in only a towel. Something.

Looking around him at what appeared to be some sort of lounge, he noticed most people were completely unfazed. Continuing his survey, wishing he had his guns on, his gaze was caught by the window. Oh.

That was... stars? How? "Now I know this is definitely not Portland."

Booker, clad in his towel, dripping on the carpet, is going to stare out into space for a few minutes, okay? Anyone who wants to come along and help his brain be less explodey is more than welcome.