paradisa | 83; action/dictated

( Queen Anne )

[Spike hasn't heard from her since this started, which could mean she went the way Brock did in the middle of the night. He's practically hoping for that when he gets wind of the other way that people have gone missing.

With a calm voice, he dictates to the journal. He's already on his way to her room, but at least he's giving her a warning for once.]

This may be a good time to find a quiet place in town for a few days. I'll be by in a little while. [As if he isn't going to insist on going with her, at least until he's set her up somewhere with a more predictable lock. She can be mad at him later.]

---

[The mirrors that overtook the halls really add a nice touch to the disorienting atmosphere. He closes the door to his room after a mildly successful rounding of supplies, and uses the journal to avoid looking at the walls.

It only occurs to him then that he's forgetting something. Although as frequently as the dog has to take care of himself, he wouldn't be surprised if Ein wasn't already five steps ahead of him. He sounds tired, rather than panicked, but you can't account for sleep around here.]

To top it off, the dog got out. Talk about your bad luck.

Threaded | Flat

[ Indeed as soon as the quality of 'life' around had become even murkier, in the way that one naturally questioned their sanity by the hour, Anne had gone to great lengths to hide away from the world. The startling run-ins with those who are no longer well do little to curb her fears, as memories of another time lost in insanity still haunt her.

When leaving her chambers, she visits only the kitchen and the clinic, and is soon to return, not stopping for any even if they're on her floor. She doesn't seek the comfort of company in times like these, not when all it can do is remind her of her very worst.

Spike might be the last person she wishes to see now, but she doesn't tell him to stay away, and she doesn't respond. Instead she just opens her door, as what good are locks in the face of a supernatural enemy? For once she has no wine in her, too aware of how level her head must remain in these instances.

That doesn't halt her pacing, a rambling tangent occasionally spilling forth in the lunacy of events, and her place in them, and not particularly directed at Spike. She's talking well before he enters. ]

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