It's strange to step into the familiar shape, with limbs and hands and fingers that flex in a semblance of solidity. He has to concentrate to maintain it. The stimulus of the world through his wider, greater-than-physical lens is more than a little disorienting, despite in past instances having time to acclimatize it. The Rift is almost certainly the source of the perceptual distortion, and it throws him for a metaphorical loop with everything he attempts.

So he manifests in an alley completely by accident.

It takes him a minute to register the additional presence, and another minute to realize there is something horribly wrong about it, something immediate and beyond the scope of his current understanding.

"Woah," he says, his voice ringing oddly in ears that perceive the minutiae sound's varied mechanics in the surrounding space. Automatically his shape's hands come up, palms out, in a gesture meant to be placating, reassuring. He looks at the other man, the other being, halfway alarmed and halfway disturbed by the wrongness resonating on a level he can now detect. "Are you - are you okay?"