Literally just join—don't even ask
A small, brown-haired boy stumbled into empty space, taking a moment to catch his balance before looking around. "…Evenire," he whispered to himself, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as the silver pin shine and began to grow larger. Seconds later a white hawk stood perched on the boy's jacket in place of the pin. He hesitated as if waiting for soemthing to happen, then added, "Mutare." The hawk flapped his wings, taking off and landing in its human form. "Uh… Swish, where are we?" the boy asked worriedly, coming to stand closer to his friend and familiar. Swish took a moment to orientate himself, folding his wings and crossing his arms with a puzzled look on his face. "You mean you didn't call us here, Genie?" Normally the boy would protest at the nickname—tell him to call him Corey instead of reminding him constantly about his godawful first name, but he was disturbed enough by the familiar's answer that he didn't comment on it. "No… I was running errands for the Mavericks, remember? What even is this place?" he pushed, beginning to feel scared. "…I could be wrong, but I think I've heard of these before. It's called 'the fourth room'. It's supposed to be a seperate dimension or something where our actions don't hold any consequences in our world, but… " Swish trailed off, shivering somewhat. Eugene frowned, hugging himself as he waited for the familiar to continue. "Only writers can summon people here." Eugene went quiet for a moment. "Are you saying… We're someone's characters in a book?" he asked quietly. "Quite possibly," Swish replied, unsettled. "But there's more. If this truly is a 'fourth room', then we won't be the only ones here… We'll be expected to—" He shuddered again. "—socialize with other characters." Eugene suddenly smacked the back of Swish's head lightly. "Stop messing with me—there's no way that could happen!"