33 Apocalypse Ave, Sunday Evening

[hotceltogoth]

Ronan was staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out how the hell to write, "People are disappearing in such a way that even the Manual doesn't have a record of them," into a precis. For the Manual. Because that was going to go over well, obviously.

Yeah, he was going to go and check his messages instead, smiling softly at Isabel's voice

Comments

[izzyalienqueen]

Yay for personalized ring tones. It meant Isabel could concentrate on navigating her car back home without worrying about checking Caller ID.

"Tell me you have a clue about what's going on," she said as soon as she'd answered the phone. "Because my job is gone now!"

[hotceltogoth]

"... Your job?" Ronan pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment to stare at it. "You mean, like, your boss or something?"

[izzyalienqueen]

"No I mean two casinos, three hotel towers and a huge ass shopping arcade. It's just gone, Ronan. I've never seen anything like it." And it was freaking her out as he could probably tell from her voice.

[hotceltogoth]

"... Shit."

Yes, Ronan, that about summed it up.

"I haven't heard about anything like that happening back home, but I'm not sure I would have. If no one else remembers things being there..." Shit, how would that affect wizardry back home? His own, anyway -- if he described something wrong because he remembered something being there that wasn't...