When Haizea woke up in unfamiliar pajamas again, she decided she would tolerate this no longer. The pajama top she removes and ties around her waist like a jacket, the pants she rips into shorts. With her leotard on under the pajamas to begin with, and her style sufficiently reclaimed from the pajama fashion tyranny of the Wizard, she finally leaves her room and follows the smell of bacon that's been tempting her since she woke up.

She doesn't quite expect two Wizards, a scandalized Matilda and floor prone Gyre.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks, eyebrows raised.