(NOTE: Art does not belong to me!)
Telemachus groaned, as he sat up - his head was spinning, and his vision was blurry. He clutched his head in his hand, grimacing as the pounding sensation gradually subsided. However, as he looked around… he froze. Where… was he? The buildings were taller than any he’d ever seen, and made, it seemed, out of mostly glass. Then, looking out at what he presumed were roads, he saw machines - like carriages, without horses to pull them… how peculiar.
Slowly, Telemachus stood, leaning against the wall momentarily. He didn’t remember what had happened - how he’d gotten here. All he knew was… he was here now. Wherever ‘here’ was…
Curiously, Telemachus approached a group of people, attempting to get their attention - all he needed to know was where he was. However…
“Excuse me, do any of you-“
One of the men, taller than him, spares him a glance, letting out a snort of annoyance.
“Beat it, kid - we’re busy, here!”
Telemachus paused, tilting his head as the men walked away. Quite like the suitors that had ransacked the palace, they seemed…
It soon became apparent that people here weren’t exactly… kind, the majority of them. He’d tried multiple groups, and was either told to shove off, cursed out, or flat-out ignored. Losing hope, he went up to someone, who seemed to be alone. He tapped on their shoulder, and- when they turned around?
“…Woah-“
Telemachus paused, his face flushing red. However, he quickly composed himself, preparing himself for the imminent rejection. I cleared his throat, and spoke.
“…Excuse me, but- do you… perhaps happen to know where I am?”