The man reaches out, his hand closing around your wrist. He then twists it, forcing you to turn even as your velocity sends you tumbling forward, and you crash over the couch he had been sitting on, into the wall behind him. Of course, this is what you've gathered later. To your immediate experience, there's a brief moment of weightlessness before harsh reality smacks you in the face, and you spend the next ten seconds trying to remember your name. "Quite impatient, aren't you? Most people who try to kill me at least wait until after the wine to make an attempt on my life."