Morty opens and closes his mouth a couple of times.

"P... parlez-vous francais?" he attempts after a moment.

"Gah!"

Morty jumps backwards and hits his head on the corner of his bunk bed. He falls over, then jumps back to his feet, hits his head on the bedframe this time, falls over again, and elects to remain seated until he is quite sure the scenery will stop attacking him.

You- you're a telepath? he manages. I wasn't trying to, um, anything. Can you hear my thoughts?

I'm not going to intrude on your privacy, but if we don't have any language in common I don't have a better plan. I can hear what you mean to send me in particular without getting much of anything else. I repeat: what did you do.

"I was-" Whoops.

I was trying to get unlimited clean energy from dimensional bleed. It... didn't do that. The devise has nothing to do with transportation, so I don't know what the heck went wrong enough to teleport somebody in. Where are you from, even?

Magisterius University. Prax, Imperium. ...Prime Material. Where am I?

Morty blinks slowly.

Not any of those places. Whateley Academy, Massachusetts, USA, Earth, Milky Way. Laniakea Supercluster?

I've never heard of any of that.

The back of Morty's head comes to rest on the wall behind him with a thunk.

Well, I've got bad news and I've got good news. The bad news is that you're in an alternate universe and Hartford is going to have me thrown off a cliff by wild horses. The good news is that people who aren't me occasionally know what the fuck they're doing. So they might be able to put you back. After having me thrown off a cliff by wild horses.

You're some kind of extraplanar studies student? From, I assume, another plane.

Yeah, probably. Sure. I do not have enough energy right now to argue about your choice of bad sci-fi words.

Planes aren't sci-fi. You just literally summoned me from one.

He waves a hand. Yeah, but they still sound like it. American culture's pretty new to magic and mutants and shit, all that's still sci-fi as all hell. He looks thoughtful. You'd think a hundred years would be enough to get used to that kind of thing, but that's humans for you, I guess.

Oh, yeah, alternate universe. Nobody really knows what happened, but about a hundred years back folks started cropping up with Powers That Science Could Not Explain*. So now you get psychics, blasters, wizards, Devisors... But when you haven't had that kind of stuff for the rest of your history it still seems kinda fake. Like, my roommate is literally full of dog ghosts. And he's growing extra nipples. The fuck is up with that, right?

*The communication of unnecessary capitalization through telepathy may or may not be one of these.

Morty's brow furrows. You could say that, I guess. Is yours just kinda normal? Apart from the, uh, telepathy.

The telepathy is normal! I'm a subtle artist!

Morty holds up his hands, laughing. Don't get me wrong, it's cool! We've got psychics too! It's just they all popped up after the Weirdness Threshold went down, so I put them in with the rest of the Weird. Normal is, like, accountants, not wizards and telepaths.

Wizards are normal too! What's this about 'science could not explain'? Why were you expecting science to explain wizards?

Um. Well, science is using the fact that most things work in basically the same way to figure out how our world is set up, right? And we'd been using it for a really long time, so we had most of the rules figured out. But then there's all these wizards, and they're turning teacups into frogs and shit, and it doesn't work in the same way as anything else. (Or at least it didn't seem to at the time, the really advanced physicists and theoretical gadgeteers are making some headway on making mutant powers make some damn sense in the context of the rest of everything. More power to them, I guess.)* But we hadn't really run into anything science Could Not Explain before then. So it was kind of fucked-up.

*Mortimer Halliwell is not aware of his ability to think in parentheses, or for that matter footnotes. It probably wouldn't surprise him, though.

I'm in some kind of crazy science fantasy universe that finally got fed up with you. Great.

Morty looks slightly affronted!

Science still works, you know. We thought lightning was God throwing spears at us for thousands of years, and now we make it in our houses and use it instead of candles. Just because there's some hocus-pocus we can't account for yet doesn't mean it can't be accounted for.

So yours is more patient than mine and likes killing you less, sure, but it definitely sounds like it got tired of you having such an easy time of it with the starting rules and decided to jazz it up to keep you on your toes.