Martin, despite the meditation, is still incredibly nervous when he feels that final tug, like he's falling asleep and snapping awake into a dream all at once.

But when he wakes up, of course, he doesn't worry about any of that. He just finds himself on the ground in a surprisingly comfortable outfit, with the Empress symbol in a repeating pattern on his tie - though at the same time, he can't help but wonder what he's comparing it to - and pushes himself to his feet with a visible air of confusion, in the sparce patch of open farmland he's found himself in. With a companion, even, and he frowns slightly.

"Uhm... hello, there?"

The building Martin feels compelled to make, in the end, is singular: a long, flat building with only a ground floor, with the almost stereotypical classical architecture of a university. Inside is warm, and comforting; not just because it's literally a pleasant few degrees warmer inside than out, invoking memories of stepping in from the brisk winter wind, but the wooden floor and wall panels are a homey brown, the upper walls and ceiling lined with a creamy-gold wallpaper that's peeling in spots, but somehow charmingly so. There are people here, too, kind of - literally faceless mannequins in modern, casual fashion, that only change position when not being observed, but they don't mind Jon any as he explores.

There's a few different rooms, most of them classrooms, but there's a pair of offices next to each other, one labelled Prof. Blackwood, the other blank - but the wood grain had made a perfect eye shape where the matching bronze plaque would have gone. The largest room, though, taking up most of the entire side of the building is a library, filled with piles upon piles of books, the majority of them on poetry but a few random ones on other, non-fiction subjects.

That is where Martin is currently located, in animated conversation with a pair of mannequins that pose like they're genuinely interested in what he has to say.