There's a demon sprawled in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, looking as witty, dashing, and charming as ever. Also, um, asleep ( Read more... )

Cywyllog. Still downstairs.

She ate this morning, which is a minor miracle in and of itself, but since she doesn't do it very often, she's not feeling so great at the moment. To keep her mind off that, she's wandering the bar slowly, like she used to when she first arrived.

Interruptions are welcome.

She tries, she really does.

But she can't stay cooped up in the suites for very long. She gets itchy.

So. Slayer. Rafters. Turning somersaults over one like it's part balance beam part gym horse.

...I don't know how the gun stays in the holster either.

Cywyllog is in a bit of a better mood today, and so she has decided to try and do something that people keep telling her she needs to. She's going to relax ( Read more... )