Stranger slumped to the floor.
It was hopeless, there was no way for him to figure out what was happening behind the walls, the fabrial...didn't make sense to him. There was some interference on his end, he was sure that he could feel the the workings on the other side...but there was some sort of interference clouding his vision. He was burning low anyway...
He rummaged through one of his many pockets and pulled out a flask, the strange wines they served here were absolutely horrid...specially that Jandorian crem. Nothing beat a good chug of whiskey. He pulled out a bag which contained a mixture of metal shavings, then poured some into the flask. He sighed and downed the whiskey, the burning sensation quickly passing.
He burned a little atium for kicks, and watched the fuzzy atium shadows for a while. He stopped burning the metal all of a sudden, he had done it again hadn't he...
He shook his head and got up, dusted his clothes and rolled his shoulders. Perhaps it was time he went over to that battle thing going on.