Eliot considers this, and the possibility that this dimensional whatever isn't just a gateway between the same location in different planes.

"I suppose it could be worse," he says, looking around at the park. "I could have walked into a zombie apocalypse or a world without public transit." Eliot's trying to be unruffled but it's difficult. "I mean, no offense, if you're from a zombie world or anything, but I'm definitely glad this isn't...too different from my New York, as far as I can tell." That feeling of magical residue all over the place is definitely disconcerting, though.

"I was out bar-hopping," he continues, "so I didn't notice it at first, but...was I by the fountain? Is that where the thing is, this Rift?" Way to go Eliot, you are taking the concept of a lost weekend to a whole new level.