On the bed are a couple of people one of whom is currently performing enthusiastic sexual services for the other, who is pulling his hair! The one with his mouth available yelps when Dottie lands.

"-sorry," Dottie says, in English, scrambling to get off the bed. "My bad!"

The recipient yanks the giver's hair to pull him off and grabs a sheet to fling over both of them; he does this haphazardly enough that his partner is now lazily cosplaying a ghost but it gets the job done. "What the fuck! How do you even make that mistake! Learn to teleport!" he exclaims.

"Escape gone wrong," Dottie explains (?) as she covers her eyes and backs away.

"Are we still in California?"

"- no, this is not California." He adjusts the sheet so his sub can see. "How old are you? You don't look twelve."

Dottie is going to avoid assuming genders, here, because it's none of her business. She can't smell it, though, so they must mask well. Masking usually doesn't last during- she is not thinking about what they're doing, nope. Chaste thoughts, keeping those eyes shut tight.

"Nineteen. Does my age matter? My Escape overshot, landed me here. Does one of you want to spot me a duet?"

"Spot you a what?" asks the one with long hair.

"A duet. Does one of you want to chant with me so I can get out of your hair? You probably want it as much as I do, right, that should make it easy."

"...chant with you?" says Long Hair in bewilderment.

"Look, dude," says Short Hair, "if you need a few bottles of Ensure to teleport away, or a phone call to get picked up, we can help you with that, but we don't belong to your religion, or anything."

"...okay. Not trying to cause any trouble, here, but if I say, 'chanting and singing is how magic gets done', you would say...?"

"Bullshit, I went to magic school," pipes up Long Hair.

"Right. I'll just- step outside- and when you're done getting dressed, I'll take that phone call."

Dottie turns around, opens her eyes long enough to find the door, and steps outside to wait. Hopefully. They're being surprisingly polite, really, she's not sure when that's going to stop happening.

A couple minutes later they emerge wearing pants; Long Hair is also buttoning a shirt. "You can borrow my phone," he says, offering it out of his pocket, once his hands are free from buttoning.

Great. Dottie takes the phone from Long Hair, Who Went to Magic School.

"My alpha, Jackson," she explains as she dials his number. "Oh, I didn't introduce myself. Dottie Matson."

"Huh, that's my name too," says Jackson. "- not Dottie, obviously, Jackson. Your dom has you calling him your 'alpha'?"

The phone rings and rings.

Next to how weird everything else here is, this guy's name also being Jackson doesn't rate.

"...yeah. Most alphas like that. Where did you say we were, again?"

Dottie waits for someone to pick up. Jackson is probably mad at her, given how they left things. She'll leave a voicemail if she needs to.

"Hello?" says a strange voice on the phone.

"Illinois," says Brian.

"...hello? Is- is Jackson there? This is Dottie, his omega."

"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number," yawns the voice, and hangs up.

Great. That's- this could be some kind of elaborate sting operation, but Dottie does not think anyone high up in United States law enforcement would have it in for her. She hasn't done anything- Jackson has, and maybe they're interrogating him right now. He'll get off easy, though. No one would arrest an alpha for defending his omega.

"Is there someone I can talk to about- teleportation accidents?"

"You want me to call Lockdown for you?" asks Jackson. "...you shouldn't eat anything if you're still having accidents."

"I was trying to leave, I just got my aim wrong. I don't know what 'magic schools' are like in Illinois, do you two have a good Reverse? Another Escape might work, but it's obviously dicier."

"...I'm gonna call Lockdown for you," says Jackson, holding out his hand for his phone.

Sigh.

"Thank you," she says politely. This was more or less the end goal, wasn't it? To end up in a completely different situation, which very well might kill her. It doesn't feel like a victory, but somehow she doesn't think she'll be able to enchant anything under these conditions. Neither of them seem very receptive.

"Do they have any betas on staff?"

"Dunno what that is," says Jackson, looking up the number. "But they'll lock you down so you don't have any more teleportation accidents and then you can get into a virtuality that doesn't let you slip like that, if you don't want to go be an accountant or whatever."