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[halfahead]

Glitch was already up and about when sunrise came along, and had found himself a good spot to watch the sun peek out from behind the ocean and start climbing. When the sun was moving overhead, so was Glitch, already heading towards the compound for another book as the light stretched his shadow against the path.

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[az_from_the_oz]

Ambrose... or Glitch, looked more odd than usual, Azkadellia had decided. She'd come into the compound to try to find a new book to read, perhaps one on the history of the Otherside. Instead she found her mother's adviser sitting in a chair and looking distinctly uneasy. "Are you all right, Ambrose? What's the matter?"

[halfahead]

Ambrose's spine went rigid at the voice, and when he finally turned to look at her, it was horrible. Pure, sweet, innocent little Azkadellia was standing there, looking concerned. He broke all over again, and put his hands over his eyes, barely stopping himself from crying.

"Oh gods," he whispered, throat choked and eyes burning. Of anyone or anything, she couldn't have picked a more cunning and vicious form to use.

[az_from_the_oz]

"Ambrose?" She put one hand cautiously on his arm. This had to be one of episodes, but she'd never seen him quite so upset before. It scared her, like it always did really, and Az glanced up at the zipper for a moment. "Ambrose, what's the matter? Do you want me to get Mr. Cain?"

[halfahead]

"I don't know a Mr. Cain, Azkadellia," Ambrose choked out, and finally looked at her. Perfect. She was absolutely perfect, and it hurt even more. He cleared his throat. "...can I hug you?"

Ambrose hated himself for it, but he still loved her to the bottom of his battered heart. Illusion or not, it was starting to not really matter. If she asked questions, he wouldn't answer, but that didn't mean he couldn't pretend it was his little Azkadellia for a while.

[az_from_the_oz]

"Of course you can." She smiled a little, trying to be nice and calm in the hope of eventually getting Ambrose to the point where he would tell her what had happened. Or where he would just remember who everyone else was. For now she kept her hand on his arm. "Remember Mr. Cain? We live at his house. He takes care of us here."

[halfahead]

He hesitated before hugging her, short and tight, and then let go, barely able to look at her. She was too real. She even smelled like Azkadellia had, and Ambrose hadn't even known she'd had a scent before now.

But there hadn't been any questions. No interrogation, not even really trying to gain his trust aside from her form. Ambrose cleared his throat, finally looking at her with a weak smile. "I don't remember Mr. Cain, Azkadellia. Who is he?"

[az_from_the_oz]

"Wyatt Cain. He is a tin man from the O.Z., just like you and I." Azkadellia kept a hold on his arm, trying to keep him looking at her. "We live with him. Remember? Please try to remember, Ambrose."

[halfahead]

"I am trying," Ambrose pouted, practically forgetting this wasn't Azkadellia. "Sorry, Azkadellia. Seems like something's not quite right with my mind-" He blinked.

"...do you know anything about the zipper, Azkadellia?" His voice was softer, remembering this was some strange form of interrogation she'd cooked up. That didn't mean the questions couldn't go both ways, though.