They had parted company some ways back, the Fool and the Hero, the Hero hurrying off to do meet someone and the Fool wandering the streets of the strange little town.  Charming, in a way, but unsettling. 

Here, there was no getting lost in thought - nearly all of the passers-by tugged at the Fool in some way.  Another hero here, an evil wizard there, a wisewoman at the fruit stand.

It bothered the Fool.  It bothered the Fool greatly.

At length, the Fool stood uncharacteristically still with Its hands in Its pockets and watched the fountain in the center of town.

The Fool found portals to be a simple sort of magic.  If one wasn't expecting a door shape, it was easy to find doors anywhere.  And so The Fool did find a door, slipping quietly from an elevator in a New York City skyscraper to ... a forest.

Well, it could be worse.  The Fool didn't mind forests.  And it had missed, more than it cared to admit, the feel of magic.  Magic made all sorts of things easier, although that nifty little thing with all the buttons had been fun.  Not that The Fool had anyone to call.  But it very much liked that little earpiece.  And that one game.  Snake, was it?

Still, New York City was no place for it.  CEOs had no appreciation for the archetype, no patience for roundabout logic or obfuscated advice.  Neither did the Unlikely Heroes.  The Fool was very disappointed with the Potentials in that world, in all ways.  Not least of all their dress sense.

"Very old fashioned," it murmured to itself.  And then smiled.  Old-fashioned was rules.  Rules went with pride.  Pride was antithetical to its being.  Mostly.  Usually.

Hands in its pockets, The Fool began to stroll, its dress shoes scuffing the ground gently.