[ She glances in the direction of the Singularity -- it's not visible from within Sam's domain, but she knows where it is. Even if she didn't, if she was turned around, she can feel it, like some kind of homing beacon inside her. But she doesn't know why that's the case, why she feels these things and other people don't. Why the Horizon works so differently for her. There are other people here, more powerful. Better trained. But they don't seem to hear it all like she does. ]

I don't know. There are other people I know who can feel it too, people with more magic than me. Stronger magic. But they don't feel it all the time like me, and I have no fuckin' clue why. The Horizon doesn't just... know them. Not the same way as me. But it was always like that, even the first time I came here, when I didn't have my memories. Everythin' was just ready for me, waitin'. Like it was expectin' me.

[ This is the part that no one seems to be able to explain, not the strongest and most powerful mages (sorcerers, witches, sith) that she's met. They all had to make their domains. Create what they felt inside themselves, then change it when they could remember again. But Julie didn't. Julie had pushed open a door in someone else's domain, only to find everything there already, pristine and prepared. She didn't make dozens of people, they were already anticipating her arrival. Celebrated her when she arrived. Sure, there were some things she added to her domain later on, but they were all things that serve logistical or decorative purposes more than the pure instinct.

The club, the people, the warehouse, the Steven. They were waiting for her.

She sighs. It hurts her head to think about too hard, and it also, in fact, scares her. Her world was so absent of magic, and even more than that, it's terrifying to be singled out when no one knows what means for her. ]

But shit, with my luck, it probably just means some freak magic bullshit is gonna kill me.