---

---

---

---

---

Taking a stepback to admire her handiwork, Sherlock took a swig of her beer. While most would've argued that scientific experiments and being under the influence didn't mix, Sherlock would disagree with them. It gave her mind a heightened clarity, and if she was truly being honest, this particular experiment was mostly for fun. In fact, she'd hardly notice the power go out, only realizing it from the immense pain that shot into her eyes when it turned back on.

For a genius, Sherlock can be incredibly thick.

Of course to her, it was mostly that she was focused. Bruising after death experiments were so last year, as she'd already collected plenty of evidence. Raising up her gun, she aimed it at the corpse in front of her -- a John Doe, so she assumed -- and fired off another round. The bullets entered the corpse, and Sherlock dashed over quickly, grabbing her magnifying glass to see exactly how much blood a corpse could expect to lose when dead.

"Watson, I need you to fetch me more bullets," Sherlock murmured, mentally cataloguing the information. She didn't need to write things down, instead using the memory villa technique to recall virtually everything. The device was intended to help orators remember speeches. Sherlock found it perfectly useful for crime.

"Watson, where are those bullets?" Sherlock snapped, turning around to chew out her flatmate. Of course, she then realized she'd been shouting at an empty room. John wasn't in Mystvale. John suspected Sherlock to be dead. Sighing slightly, Sherlock took another swig of her drink, hoping to lighten up her mood. Tugging at her hair, she groaned, feeling the onset of boredom.

Perhaps the idiots in the police had something interesting for her to do. Quickly pinning her hair up and covering it with a fedora, Sherlock tossed the gun aside. She'd collect it later, there wasn't too much of a rush or a hurry. Having no concept of what time it was, Sherlock's stomach grumbled slightly. She'd need to get some food, then, as much as she detested wasting her energy with eating. Her body was transport, a shell. Nothing more.

"Watson, how does Chinese sound?" Sherlock inquired, once more to the empty room. A sad smile graced the lips of the consulting detective. Pausing slightly, Sherlock's mind instantly whizzed, a thousand connections firing up. There would be no need for Lancelot to notify her. Already, Sherlock came to the conclusion that there had been another disappearance, and that in some sort of attempt to keep people calm, there'd be a town meeting.

"The game is on...." Sherlock murmured to herself.

---

---

---

---

---

Harlianne picked the lock to the Hatter's shop, before quietly slipping inside. Underneath the cover of darkness, she could hear the police sirens in the distance. Snickering, Harlianne glanced down at her prize, carefully held by her hook. It was a bag, the straps held in the curve, filled with rum. Despite loving her ship dearly, Harlianne wasn't foolish. The police, if they were competent at all, would go look for her there first.

"Hatter! It's tea time!" Harlianne called out. Hearing no answer, she figured the Hatter must have been asleep. The crazy thing probably needed it, at least. Setting the bag down on the counter of the shop, Harlianne removed her hook with her right hand, before replacing it with her special occasion hook. It was perhaps the only thing the film Hook got correct about her. The lace on it had a few stains from her tea time visits with the Hatter, but she hardly minded. As a pirate, she didn't care much for stains. It was part of the job.

Grabbing a bottle of rum with her hand, she used her hook to open it, and began to drink the sweet nectar. It instantly set her at ease, and having found a comfortable spot in the back of the Hatter's shop, Harlianne drank herself to sleep. The warm fuzzy feeling helped dear old Captain Hook feel safe and secure, imagining the calm waters of the sea around her. Eventually, her eyes drooped, and the bottle clattered to the floor by her side.

It was only four hours later that Harlianne woke up. Almost making the mistake of trying to rub her eyes, Harlianne chuckled slightly. Stabbing her eyes with her hook wasn't perhaps the best of plans. Still, it seemed that she'd avoided the police, but she couldn't help but be disappointed that the Hatter had failed to show. "Hatter! Yer late!" Harlianne called out, expecting him to come running in at any moment.

Her eyes fell on the bag filled with rum, and she shrugged a bit. More for meself, Harlianne decided, before opening up another bottle.

---

---

---

---

---

Lost in a dream, Aravis let out a content sigh. She was back home, in Archenland, with Cor, Corin, and Ramna by her side. The Royal Family was together once more, and the Calormene invaders had been rebuked. However, there was a second Queen on the throne of Archenland, one with fair blonde hair and curious eyes. Aravis smiled, watching as Queen Lucy opened her mouth, only to make the most jarring of buzzing noises she ever heard in her life.

Jolting awake, Aravis looked around wildly, grabbing her cutlass. The buzzing noise had originated from her phone, and unlocking it, she saw a missed call from Lucy. Frowning deeply at the message, Aravis threw on some clothes quickly, grabbing her two cutlasses and sticking them in her belt. Lucy's apartment wasn't too far away, fortunately. Running down the steps and out the door, she dashed into the chilly morning air, and raced for Lucy's place. By the time she arrived, she took slight note of the damage to Dorothy's apartment.

"By Tash, you best be alive!" Aravis prayed, knocking frantically on Lucy's door. And a moment later, deciding her own impatience, Aravis scooped up the spare key Lucy kept hidden, and let herself inside. She glanced around, her eyes a bit wild with fear, as she expected to see horror and tragedy.

Instead, all she seemed to find was Aslan, Lucy's cat, hissing up at her. "Lu? What the hell is going on here? By Tash, you acted like the Tisroc (may he live forever) was being held hostage!"

---

---

---

---

Peter very much liked living in isolation. It was his preferred state of being. Going into town was a special trip reserved for when he needed groceries, or there was urgent business that needed attending to. Or if there was an earthquake that nearly destroyed his house. Hey, his tree house may look nice, but it's still built in a tree, and is quite susceptible to the earth shaking. Add in a mysterious message from Lucy Pevensie, fellow former resident of the Never, and his curiosity was piqued. Piqued just enough to head into town.

And so, he scaled down his tree, shoes crunching the dead, damp leaves that blanketed the forest floor. Hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his breath forming miniature clouds of mist in front of him, he made his way into town, his scowl slightly less scowly today. After all, something was clearly up.

In town, people were moving all about, woken up far earlier than normal by the events of the morning. He made his way to the one place he didn't despise. Ms. Oakwing's diner, where he walked in and took a seat at the counter, offering up a small wave to Ms. Oakwing, even a slight smile. "Hey, Jess. I'm guessing you got Lucy's message?" he asked, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

---

---

---

---

---

Even though it was late at night, while most of the residents were sleeping or partying or a bit of both, Rouge was clacking down her hallway, with her cell phone in her hand. A disgruntled look on her face as she spoke loudly to the poor soul on the opposite end of the call.

"I don't care if he has no power, tell Jordan to get me those articles by 6 P.M. on the dot or I will have his head!" She rubbed her brow in frustration as her assistant continued to tell her how impossible the task would be unless power was restored soon. Rouge was hearing none of it, "I didn't hire these people so they would give me feeble excuses for not doing their job. We need this done by tonight or tomorrow at the latest or we'll be behind this month and I am NEVER late. Get this done or so help me.." before she could dish out her verbal threat of more bodily harm, her phone dinged with an incoming call. She sighed and looked at the screen name. It was Lancelot. What did she want now? Probably another message pestering about coming to the meetings. Didn't they know she was busy? She had things to do, people to see, and power to grab and she couldn't take an hour or two to discuss whatever matters they felt were necessary. She ended the phone call to her assistant and prayed to whatever higher power up there that she would do her job and get things done, and she accepted the call.

"Listen Lance...I know what you're about to say and.." Lancelot cut her off and began to speak. She would remember that little interruption later. She could have easily silenced her, but she figured she'd let the woman talk. It was obviously urgent by the sound of her voice.

After the message was relayed, she put her phone down and stood in the hallway. A disappearance? Not only that another disappearance. She'd been so invested in her own things she didn't realize people were going missing left and right.

That meant less people for her to rule over!

The meeting was called, and it was mandatory. She made a mental note to tell her assistant to fix things while she was gone.

---

---

---

---

---

Despite the late hour, Esmeralda was busy cleaning up from the last recipients of the offering. Though there was no power, they had lamps out and flashlights and still, people needed to eat. She felt a good amount of warmth that always happened whenever she helped others out. It was often a thankless job, save for the occasional head nod, but people were being fed and helped and that was good enough for her.

The others had gone home and she volunteered to close. She knew they expected her to do so since she closed every other time, but she still offered and they accepted. She was alone with only the lights off the lamps to illuminate her surroundings. She thought of a few things, her mind raced to Phoebus and where he may be. The news of the disappearances worried her, much like the others. Could it be that Phoebus had actually made it out and was just another person missing? Same with Quasimodo. She missed them both terribly.

She heard the low ringtone of her phone and she quickly moved over to see who it was at this hour. It had to be important. Caller I.D. read Lucy and she smiled a bit. She liked Lucy a lot, she was a nice girl, easy to talk to, and one of many people she considered a friend. If she was calling at this hour, it wads definitely important. She answered and was given the standard message. Mandatory meeting, 4 P.M. She knew this had to be about the recent going ons. The power outage, the Earthquake, the disappearances. She bid her farewell to Lucy and shut her phone off and finished her work.

She made her way home to her apartment to get some sleep before she got up for work and then to the meeting. She felt the day was going to be a long one.

---

---

Step. Stop. Turn. Piroutte a half turn, drop - no, no, that just didn't quite work the same on Earth. Step. Stop. Turn. Pirouette a full turn, drop - same result. Alice dropped to the floor in frustration, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Her favorite dances were pretty enough on Earth, but they were never the same as back home. It was the same action, the same thoughts, but never the same result, almost as if Earth just didn't care what you put in your head when you danced. How rude of it, to ignore one's dancing thoughts in such a way.

"Berry, when do we get to go home?" Alice called out, her voice resonating in the empty warehouse in which Berry had set up shop. She moved some stolen furniture into the old manager's office upstairs, pulled some strings (among other things) to keep the place powered, and let the main warehouse area be room for Alice and Berry's activities, like Alice's dancing. Much of "their people" like to stay closer to each other, many of them living in the same area. Alice was no different, though she spent a fair share of time at Berry's. Berry preferred to stay more isolated, though her warehouse was only really a short distance from everyone else, really.

"Berryyyy." Alice's voice was singsong and light; it was one of her better moments, when she was closer to her former self. Alice knew to appreciate these moments while they lasted. Lucidity did not come often to her, so when it did she was sure to take advantage.

Berry's head poked out from the office door. "I said, I ain't got a clue. Hopefully soon, though," Berry called back to Alice. The office overlooked the main area, accessible by old, rickety metal stairs scaling the warehouse along the wall.

"What are you doing?" Alice stood, slowly twirling her way towards the staircase.

"I'm just thinkin' 'bout what we're gonna do today." Berry emerged from the office fully and began to make her way down the staircase. She met Alice at the bottom of the stairs, examining the girl's wardrobe for the day. Nothing spectacular, surprisingly, bar the hat on her head. "Oh, sweetheart, where did you get that hat? Do you even know what a pussy is?"

Alice frowned and tilted her head in confusion. "The Hatter got it for me, of course. Isn't it just another name for a cat?"

Berry laughed, "Oh, honey, no. Not at all. When did you see The Hatter?"

"I could have seen him yesterday, or the day before, or maybe even tomorrow, if I so chose to. It doesn't really matter when I saw him, so much as how I saw him." Alice began to spin away from Berry, across the warehouse floor.

"Y'know, that actually makes a lick of sense. You don't often make sense when you give me those answers, but you did just then."

"I'm having a good time!" Alice flashed a wide smile at Berry. It was heartwarming to Berry to see Alice enjoying herself. Berry did her best to try to keep Alice more or less stable by keeping her occupied and giving her fun things to do, but Berry had long ago accepted that Alice could lose it at any moment. Whether or not the girl really could still hear the Madness speaking to her was irrelevant, at this point. It was a very real concern for Alice, and her happiness could be pulled away from her without notice.

"You have a phone call."

"You can hear that? From all the way over there?" Alice had spun her way to the far side of the warehouse, though she had fallen back to the floor a while ago. Berry's phone was just at the top of the stairs in their room, ringing and vibrating faintly on a table.

"Something changes when it rings. I can feel it. In my ears."

"Honey, that there is hearing."

"Not really. You wouldn't understand."

Berry let it go, instead bolting up the stairs to grab the call. She arrived just in time to see Lucy on the caller ID, though she missed it, as usual; Alice did the math once (how she did it is an entirely different conversation) and Berry only ever answered Lucy maybe once every ten calls. She could only shrug as she listened to the message Lucy left. Poor Lucy was flustered, but the gist of the message was simple, if concerning. Berry stepped out onto the stairs, watching Alice count... something. She opted to respond with a text back to Lucy, so Alice wouldn't get too worried prematurely.


She pocketed the phone and made her way back down. "So, I reckon I know what we're doin' tonight. Lucy wants us all to meet up tonight, says it's urgent."

Alice dramatically flopped back from her sitting position so she was lying on the floor. "But is it really urgent? The meetings are no fun," the girl complained. She began waving her arms and legs back and forth as if to make a snow angel, but the lack of snow made that a near impossibility.

With a stern look on her face, Berry laid down next to Alice, letting out a deep sigh. "Sorry, honey, but yeah, it really is. Lucy says it could be serious."

"Like, bad serious?"

"Maybe."

"Oh."

The two women let the conversation hang, drifting off into silence. Alice wondered what "bad serious" actually meant, as she hadn't properly wrapped her head around the phrase, while Berry debated how much exactly she should tell Alice and how much should be left for the meeting that afternoon.

"Does it have to do with the earthquake, Berry?"

"Might be. Why?"

"I... I think I hear them again. I heard them again after the earthquake earlier, but they left. They're back now."

Berry frowned. Alice had been hearing the voices with alarming frequency recently. Rising from the floor, Berry extended an arm to lift Alice up, as well. "I reckon we head over to your place. You'll feel more comfortable there, and if we're lucky, we can bump into someone you like on the way. After all," Berry paused as she pulled Alice to her feet, "ya can't spend your entire day with me, again. I'm pretty boring."

"But we aren't alone, Berry," Alice replied, confused. She turned and waved her arm across the empty room, as if to showcase all the other people in Berry's warehouse.

Berry held back a frown, instead fighting through a half-smile. "But I want you to find some friends, like The Hatter or Lucy." It was odd placing both The Hatter and Lucy in the same sentence regarding Alice's friends, but they were the first names that came to mind. It was a simple ploy she utilized often, recalling people from their world that made it to Mystvale in order to bring Alice back to their reality.

Huh. "Their" reality. Berry used to think of reality as a sure thing, as something that never changed, ever. But Alice saw reality as such a fickle thing, it was hardly surprising that Berry began to consider reality as a subjective concept.

This time, fortunately, Berry's ploy worked. "Okay, fine, we can go to my apartment. But stop babying me, I'm not a child," Alice almost stormed off, lightly pushing past Berry on the way out the door. That was the hardest part of caring for Alice. When she regressed back to the Madness, she went wholly and suddenly. One minute, Alice was the sweet, innocent girl that was mentally far younger than her physical appearance would suggest, and the next, she was cold and callous, angry at the world for existing when hers did not. The only constant was her disconnect with reality, but even then it came in varying degrees.

Berry locked up the warehouse and followed Alice into Mystvale, heading for Alice's apartment building.

---

Percival

---

---

Percival lived on the outskirts of town. Land was cheaper there, and it gave him enough room to have a little bit of privacy in the woods. He slept through the little quake, very tired after spending the afternoon digging to plant some more trees on his land. Trees reminded him of home, and he was glad that they settled in the Pacific Northwest with it's dense forests, somewhere like Arizona just wouldn't have fit well for him. He woke up at his usual time at, six thirty, aiming to get a fresh start on the day.

Some of his belongings had been shaken up by the quake. A mug he left on his desk had fallen off, and the hunting rifle he hung above his fireplace was drooping after it got loose from one of the rungs holding it. He nearly tripped over his baseball bat walking into his living room in the dark without the lights on, and was annoyed to find that the switch didn't work. Percival picked up his Wonderboy (as he was fond of calling his bat) and tried more switches, only to find that they too weren't working. The power was out, and much as he hated to admit his fondness for modern conveniences, that was a problem for him.

The phone lines still worked in the power outage. He was about to dial Lancelot and the rest of the Emergency Preparedness Council when he got Lucy's message. He figured it was still worth talking to Lancelot anyway, and proceeded to call her, just trying to figure out what the next steps should be. They still had a while before the meeting in the afternoon, and there might be something useful to do in the meantime. For now, he called the power company, just trying to remind them to fix the blackout around town. He knew it would take them time, but the more people who bothered them, the quicker the response would be.

---

Scheherazade

---

---

Scheherazade was staying up late at the library on another research binge, downing cups of coffee to maintain her energy as she looked for anything that might tell them something about the fate of their homeland. The books were sprawled around her, all filled with tabs and post-its for her reference. The shaking of the minor quake disrupted her concentration for a moment, and the lights flickered off afterwards. Undaunted, she fished for a flashlight and now redirected her efforts, looking into the causes and meanings of the new phenomena.

Her notes grew longer and more fragmentary. "Earthquake, symbolically and literally the shaking of the foundations of the world. Mythology suggests this, Japanese believed that giant catfish laid buried underneath their land, Indians believed that it was on the head of great serpent. Possible connection between these two limbless beings? Connection with other serpent myths (Jormugandr?) or other great fish (Bahamut?) Possible indication of a correction for the world, a revolution, a reckoning, or punishment for sins. Brought on by a higher spiritual power awakening sometimes possibly? Peruvian myth tells account of God calling shaking the earth with his footsteps to call for a census, are all to gather together? Is this an accounting of something. Need more sources. Need more coffee."

Now Scheherazade was trying another angle, and had brought out an armful of books of geology. She flipped through pages and pages on sediments and fault lines, learning how little she knew. There were many details and a wealth of data, but it still told her little about what caused a fault to release it's stored up energy rather than simply fate or chance. The power outage had cut off her coffee maker, and her supply of caffeine dwindled. She fell asleep slowly while digging through page after page of geological maps, and laid there. Scheherazade slept through Lucy's phonecall, blissfully unaware that the whole town would be meeting in the library that afternoon.

---

---

---

---

If one knew Jessamine well enough, you could tell she was in a bad mood. There was less twinkle in her eyes, less bounce in her step - but that was easily masked when it came to dealing with folk. Especially the folk in her town, because dear lord, the last thing they needed was another person in a bad mood; no matter the circumstances. Was she tired due to that goddamn earthquake at an unholy hour? Yes. Was she somewhat concerned Hansel hadn't come home from the airport yet, nor even contacted her? Just a little bit. Was she going to complain about this to anyone?

Hell no. She had coffee to make.

"Morning, Peter." Were her first words of the day, to her first customer - turning around with her usual smile as the Pan boy entered her diner. Normally, she only opened this place up at 7:30, but people were on edge this morning, including herself. Bit of warm food, drink and atmosphere did people the world of good, or so they'd realise once they came on in. "I got calls from Lucy and Lancelot. Something's going down for them both to get all jumped up like this." She commented - although, it was fairly obvious. The disappearances around town were no secret. If Hansel were any other boy she'd be even more concerned, but chances are he was still driving, or was passed out at home. Even sleep-deprived, he'd put up a better fight than poor Dorothy ever could.

"How about I make you some breakfast? Emergency generator's up and running, so bacon is back on the menu." She offered up with a warm smile - The diner was one of the few places in town she saw Peter, so there must be something he liked about the place. Maybe it was just the bacon? If so, she could hardly blame him - it was pretty damn good bacon.

---

---

---

---

---

---

Hansel's morning was not going spectacularly well. First off, his plane had been delayed during landing because of storms over Seattle; then, when the plane landed, the passengers were shunted off and he received his bags to then leave (which in itself took another hour), an earthquake hit. More specifically, it hit while he was nearly halfway home, going down a winding forest road that wasn't particularly well lit - it was a bloody miracle he didn't drive straight into a tree as the world rocked around him. Thankfully, he refrained from any fatal crashes while pulling up slowly near a ditch; the only injuries to either himself or his battered old car was a branch shattering the driver's side window, littering the left side of his face and hand with glass and minuscule cuts.

"Well, that's just perfect. Aye, aye, Fairy Godmother is going to kill me." Were his main thoughts the rest of the way home to Mystvale, plastic bag haphazardly taped to the window to keep the rain out - he'd call someone out for it later. If he remembered, that was.

And by the time he finally arrived home, there was nothing much in Hansel's mind but to just crash in his bed and pass out - there was no sign of Jess, and he really didn't have the energy to go traipsing over to the diner to find her. Scratching Spot's ears very quickly, Hansel threw on a few band-aids to his hand and face before diving into his bed, one leg still stuck out and blankets barely covering him before he gave into sleep.

Two hours. That's all the damned rest he got before his phone rang - jerking him awake so suddenly he fell out of bed with a yelp. By the time he managed to untangle himself from his bedsheets, Lucy's message had gone to his voicemail, and he listened with bated breath until it had finished.

"Ah, дрисня." Cursing under his breath, Hansel made his way downstairs, throwing a clean sweatshirt on as he walked. There was still no sign of Jess ("Woman drinks too much coffee."), but he wasn't going to the diner - he wanted to see Lucy. Sure, Hansel had been planning on seeing her anyway, being friends and all that - but now, he just wanted to see if she was okay. She had lived next door to Dorothy, right?

Impatient yowling from Spot interrupted Hansel as he tied his shoelaces, clumsy, plaster-covered fingers making the job a chore.

"Spot, you can't come with me, there's glass in the car!" Both he and Jess talked to the cat as if they could understand one another. Well, Jess said she actually could, being all "magick-y and shit", but Hansel doubted whether that was actually a fact. After further yowling and Hansel giving up tying his laces, he scooped up Spot and placed him in the passenger seat, bag of souvenirs beside him. He could never win an argument with that cat - besides, he hadn't seen Aslan in a while.

After a swift five minute journey (That would have taken fifteen, if he'd paid heed to the stop signs and speed limits), Hansel's car came to a stop outside Lucy's apartment, and juggling both bag and energetic tabby in his arms, made his way to her front door while attempting to not fall flat on his face.

"Hi, is anybody home? I come bearing souvenirs! And also a cat..." Announcing himself at the door - rather than just barging in, despite it remaining ajar. As he spoke, his accent caused his speech to trip up somewhat, "V"'s coming out like "W"'s.

---

---

---

---

---

Sherlock had found her way into Mystvale proper, hardly noticing the strange looks she always attracted. She looked like she belonged in a Space Western film, rather than the drizzling Washington streets. The mundanes always gave the feminine seeming man a quizzical expression, while her fellow refugees seemed to default to a state of either cheerfulness or rage. Sherlock's nature was almost paradoxical: endearing to some, outrageous to others. None of the decent restaurants, in her opinion, had opened yet. It was far too early. With a bit of a sigh, Sherlock resigned herself to having to fetch sustenance at Madam Fae's Bar & Diner.

It seemed that this would require...talking...to people. Frowning a bit, Sherlock motioned for Watson to follow (no one was around) and entered the eatery. Her lips curled slightly, taking in all of the inhabitants. Her mind began its usual train of deductions, thoughts and observations appearing around each individual in a haze. "It's the Cataclysm," Sherlock said curtly, interjecting herself into the conversation. She took a seat almost mechanically at the counter, strumming her fingers, twitching with the need for something about seven percent stronger than a mere cup of tea.

"I deduce that it was either Dorothy or Alice this time," Sherlock mused. "Same as all the rests. Nothing different. I'll take coffee. Black, two sugars."

She smiled thinly, perhaps a bit more than pleased to have received the opportunity to show off. And while Sherlock could tell that the Godmother was hardly in the best of moods, she didn't see anything wrong with her behavior. Everyone else in the town was a moron, someone who would need things explained slowly to them. For example, how Sherlock was positive either Alice or Dorothy had gone missing that night. How Sherlock was positive it was the same cause of old. And, of course, how she knew that nothing had changed that time.

But if there was one day Sherlock waited for with baited breath, it was the day that the imbeciles would give her something interesting to solve, or even better, actually realize that she wasn't a man at all. No one in Mystvale had the faintest idea, a joke that brought amusement to her even then, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement.

---

---

---

---

---

Harlianne glanced up from perhaps her fourth bottle of rum, and slowly listened to what the Hatter had to say. At his suggestion to sober up, she replied merely by tipping her head back, allowing more of the sweet, delicious nectar that was rum to pour down into her mouth! She licked her lips slightly, setting the bottle down. The room was spinning slightly, and for a moment, she could've sworn there were two Hatters in front of her.

"I wore me tea hook," Harlianne offered. "'S polite as I get, Hatter." As if to accent her point, she belched, reaching for another bottle of rum, only for her hook to fall short. Remembering that the Hatter had said something about a mug, Harlianne stumbled to her feet, entirely and utterly drunk.

It wasn't the first time she'd showed up to the Hatter's to drink, however.

"And I am as sober as ye can be," Harlianne protested, demonstrating her ability to walk in a straight line by walking diagonally across the shop, stumbling and crashing into things as she went. Using her hook and the table for balance, Harlianne managed to straighten up. Surprisingly enough, while drunk, she would've walked fine on a ship. It was stable, dry land that tended to throw her off.

The state of emergency caused her to raise a slight eyebrow. As far as she was concerned, such things should only be called if crocodiles had begun to invade the town. Anything else was a non issue. "What's got their bloody knickers all twisted up this time, aye?" Harlianne asked, leaning against a wall now. The bookshop continued to spin, and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was what it was like in Wonderland all of the time. "Yer rum is in the bag, Hatter."

---

---

---

---

---

Aravis grinned in relief, seeing Lucy entirely unscathed. With the disappearances going on, she wouldn't have been surprised if her friend had decided to do something foolish, and then vanish alongside Dorothy. Phone call or not, a determined Lucy was a dangerous Lucy. Having lost far too much in her life, Aravis couldn't bear the idea of parting with her dear friend as well. Not that she was one to express these feelings, of course. Her pride interfered with it, preventing her from voicing her true feelings, that perhaps she loved Lucy as more than just a friend.

"Perhaps the tax collector," Aravis mused, a smile on her lips. "I insist that you come and stay with me, until we've figured out how to stop these disappearances, Lu. Two swordswoman is better than one." She bent down slightly, petting yet another one of Lucy's many cats, when she heard the firm rapping on the door -- and the more than evident accent.

Eyeing the cat, Aravis chuckled slightly. Lucy may as well have been running a cat hotel, with all of the felines running around the place, getting into paints and creating their own works of art. The scrapes caught her attention as well, and for a moment, she couldn't help but worry that Hansel had been attacked as well, similar to Dorothy. "Did you try flirting again, Hansel?" Aravis asked coyly, her voice tinged with amusement.

She glanced at the ruby red slippers on the table, sighing slightly. Another person in Mystvale had vanished, stolen away by some demonic pest. Praying to Aslan each morning hadn't helped anything, and for a few weeks, Aravis nearly gave up on trying it. Merlin had told them all that magic wouldn't work in this world. Aslan wouldn't be able to hear them.

"Have the mundane police begun their investigation?" Aravis asked, helping Lucy set up the tea things. The girl was so dreadfully British, and her tastes had largely become adopted by those in Narnia, and in Archenland. It was a drastic difference to the spices and oil of her home country, causing some to label her cooking as exotic. That was, of course, when she decided to cook. She usually ate with Lucy.

---

---

---

"What in the ever loving hell! Rubbing the top of her head, she groaned as she looked over at what had hit her. It was the damn alarm clock that continued to ruin her much needed sleep. With a roll of her eyes, she sat up and took a breath as she surveyed the damage in her room. The earthquakes were really starting to piss her off. Shaking her head, the young woman slid out of her bed and went into her adjoining bathroom. Flipping the switch, she swore under her breath when the power failed to come on. "You have seriously got to be screwing with me right now. Beast! I need a flashlight!"

Heaving a sigh from the couch, Adam rose to his feet. He took a step only to ram his toe into one of the many fallen books. With a silent curse, he clenched his hand into a fist before gingerly making his way into the kitchen. Reaching out towards the kitchen light switch, he growled under his throat at the lack of response. "Just perfect. Gonna hear about this all day from her." Shaking his head, he felt around for the closest kitchen drawer handle. As soon as he found it, he pulled it open and grabbed for the flashlight. He pushed the power button and surveyed the area. Everything that had been on top of the counters was now on the floor, shattered or thrown apart. He would be cleaning for a good chunk of the day. Adam soon made his way into Beauty's room. "You alright?"

"Of course I'm not alright!" With a scoff, Beauty reached out and grabbed the flashlight from his hands. She turned and grabbed some clothes from her dresser before changing. "There's no point waiting this thing out. Who knows how long this godforsaken town will take to turn the electricity back on. I need coffee."

Adam nodded slightly as he turned away from her. He knew she didn't mind changing in front of him, yet he wanted to be respectable. Sure, they were presumably married back in their hometown, but since being on Earth, they were definitely anything but the happy couple. Folding his arms across his chest, he walked over to his own dresser and grabbed a black tee shirt and jean shorts. "I'll drive you. Wouldn't want you to hit someone." The girl was a horrible driver who didn't care in the slightest what she destroyed. Blamed it on her lack of knowledge. Yet he knew she was one of the most intelligent people around, thanks to her love of books. Hearing his phone, he stumbled back into the living room as he pulled his clothes on. He made it to the device just in time to see a missed call from Lucy. "Lucy tried calling. Maybe something happened."

Beauty rolled her eyes as she propped the flashlight on the bathroom counter. "Gee, I don't know, Beast. Why don't you try listening to your voicemail? I'm sure the paranoid twit left you one." She had no respect for the woman in the slightest. The girl was constantly butting into everyone else's business and making them all try to be united in their shared crap hole. Hearing her own phone, she gave a small laugh. "The little gnat is rather persistent today. Maybe she wants to have another one of her meetings." Sliding on a slinky yellow dress, she put her hair back in a high ponytail before applying some lipstick. Sure, it was before dawn. Wasn't an excuse to not look her best. She grabbed her phone, slipped on some black wedges, and grabbed the flashlight before heading out into the living room. Seeing the mess, she scrunched her nose before noticing Adam on the phone. "Well?"

After listening to the voicemail, he sighed before sliding the phone into his back pocket. "Dorothy's gone missing. Meeting at four." He grabbed the car keys before leading her out to the car.

Quirking a brow at the news, she scoffed and followed him out. She slid into the passenger seat once the doors were unlocked. "Of course it was her. Girl trusts everything that comes in contact with her. Seems to me like they're picking off the most pathetic ones."

He shook his head and got into the driver's seat. Wasn't long before they arrived at the diner. Parking the car, he headed to the door and held it open for his wife.

Now was the time to keep her composure. Taking a breath, she stepped out and nodded in appreciation to Beast as she walked into the diner. Beauty gave a small nod in greeting to everyone she saw before making her way over to an empty booth.

Adam barely was able to contain an eye roll at her attitude switch. Five years of watching her manipulate people was really starting to get under his skin. As he walked inside, he nodded in greeting to Jessamine and Sherlock before sitting across from Beauty.

He slouched over the edge - a burden laid dead weight against his back. The smoke twirled from his lips, pressed against the cracks in the surface and billowed in the cold sting of morning air. Rain pattered against the side of the building, a steady thrumming a head faster than the beating in his chest. He slouched further, let the scaffolding of his windowsill rustle underneath his cotton shorts. Wind carried the weight of trees and the quiet chirrups of a cuckoo intermingled between the low sounds of a mourning dove. Phillip craned his head low, let the sounds reach his ears before he hummed and leaned back.

A deep seated dread mocked him, hung above his head in the low light of dawn. Sleep came fleeting, sprinkled between restless dreams and that aggravating in between that taxed him more than gave him needed rest. The earthquake from a few hours prior had tossed him from a dreamless slumber, something deep and fulfilling. It dumped him on the side of the road and left him puttering behind, just within reach, but never able to grasp. It thrust him into bad habit after bad habit: alcohol, 'internet browsing' cut short from a power outage, brooding, and ultimately hanging precariously out of his window with a cigarette in his mouth and rain splattering against his entire front half.

Hours later, the call had nearly succeeded in tipping him over, though he caught himself mid jump. His grumbling stopped him from sliding back in and answering, letting the message beep and the voicemail go through. Eventually, Phillip told himself, his finger tapping the end of the cigarette over the edge. The ashes coated his bare knees and another grumble rumbled in his chest. The mourning dove stopped, addled by the rain and likely seeking shelter. Or something got it; he didn't see a hawk swirling by, but the rain wouldn't stop an animal from a good meal.

Contemplating wouldn't do him any good. It wouldn't provide him the next five hours he wanted of sleep, nor would it allow him respite from the day ahead. And it sure as hell wouldn't fix him any coffee. Yet, Phillip staid still, slouched over the scaffolding with his eyes peering onto the untouched grass below. How to avoid pestering neighbors? Paranoid tales looking toward him among others? They would, just out of sheer misfortune and not because he could do anything - everyone knew how capable they all were and he was no different. Still.

Phillip scowled, spitting out another billow of smoke from his lungs and tossing the snub of a cigarette into a bush below. He slid back, tucked himself in and swung into his room with much pause. The window sill shut with a click and he pattered through his small apartment and into the one bathroom he had. The water spouted cold for a good solid five minutes, of which left Phillip gritting his teeth until it turned a searing hot. He screamed for a good few seconds, unabashed and only slightly ashamed. It took longer to adjust to the swing in temperatures than it did getting cleaned. Once he did - adding in a few touch ups here and there - Phillip took a good long stare at his phone until he finally slid in a password and pressed the speaker to his ear.

Meeting. Library. Dorothy missing - dead, Phillip corrected himself. Dorothy was almost certainly dead. He rolled his eyes and let the phone bounce onto his mattress, still chattering away. Admitting anything was against everything Phillip stood for and the stubbornness that ran through him refused to let go. No Cataclysm. Not another one, that would take too much caring to deal with. Phillip pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, rubbed until light bloomed in his sight and growled at nothing. He slid his phone on again to check the time before tossing it aside once more.

Hours stood between him and something to do. Anything to do. Phillip shoved on enough clothes to be considered decent and left his apartment with as much haste as he could muster. Phillip's own concerns stopped at the low rumble of his stomach, quickly masked by his beat up truck's engine literally roaring to semi-life (Schrodinger's Vehicle, he called it). The ride to the library remained terse and Phillip idled in his truck for far too long before shifting back into gear and barreling away. No use wasting time likely sleeping on one of the desks - he settled for Fae's Diner and upon arrival, settled in the farthest booth he could find. His sneer passed over Beauty and Adam, then Sherlock before finally settling onto the leather across from him.

"I doubt coffee's going to help anyone," he mumbled, opening the menu, though he never did order anything different - two English muffin filled to the brim with egg, sunny-side, and bacon, never sausage and a side of hash browns with a hot, spattering cup of decaf, black as night coffee. He was certain Jess would already be exasperatedly cooking something up for him. Maybe. Phillip didn't spare a glance, his own pride getting in the way of a hearty meal. Aside from the earthquake, the call, the general sense of 'Oh shit, something's going down,' crawling all over his back and shoulders, it seemed like any normal day. Though, it was never a good sign if Phillip ever decided to step out of his home past noon, looking for something to eat with his usual coffee travel mug.

---

---

---

---

Jess had been right in one respect - people were milling into the place, but the mood of the diner hadn't really improved much. Perhaps the people were just wanting solidarity... or energy. She'd told people more than once to invest in a generator, but here they were, without power, heat or electricity.

"Hope this damned blackout isn't all over Seattle - if that's the case, we could be without it all day." She thought to herself with slightly pursed lips, putting several pots of coffee on the boil before turning back to the counter.

"Good morning to you as well, Sherlock." She said pointedly to the young man - or woman, as the case may be; however, it wasn't Jessamine's business to be questioning people about things like that. As for Sherlock's lack of manners, Jessamine wasn't particularly bothered by it - they were quite the unique individual, and there was a big difference between not seeing the point in pleasantries, and avoiding them entirely to spite people. "And let's keep that kind of talk out of my diner and for the meeting. These people are already shaken up, they don't need to be hearing things like that." She added with raised eyebrows, pouring out several mugs of coffee from the freshest pot; more and more people were milling in, and most of them liked coffee. Jess wouldn't be surprised if the beans were Mystvale's biggest import.

"You play nice, Master Holmes. I've got mundane customers in here too - and they definitely don't need to hear this." Sliding the black, sugared liquid over to Sherlock, she offered a smile to Adam as he entered with Beauty - closely followed by one of her part-time cooks (A Mundane girl by the name of Charlotte - sweet, and an excellent cook... but a little scatter-brained at times), and then Phillip.

From there, Jessamine went about seeing to the rest of her customers; filling out orders, pouring coffee, and still wondering just where in the hell Hansel was. All of this with a smile - and with each booth and table seen too, the tension in the building slacked just a little bit more. Finally reaching Phillip, she handed him his usual drink - she couldn't understand why in the hell someone would drink coffee without the caffeine, but she never questioned him about it.

"Your usual order's being cooked right now - so please don't tell me you came in here with a craving for pancakes." Said with a light chuckle, she considered him for a few moments. She'd always felt some form of sympathy for Phillip - she knew the real ending of his and "Sleeping Beauty"'s story. Not the best job by her fellow fairies, that was for sure. "You get the message about the meeting?"

---

---

---

---

---

---

Upon entering, Spot leapt from Hansel's arms and sauntered over to Aslan, showing affection in a very cat like way - ignoring the latter and licking his paws primly.

"You're hilarious, Aravis!" He sarcastically retorted with a chuckle, a teasing tone in his own voice. "My car had little accident with some trees, that's all." With his hands now free from a squirming feline, Hansel placed his bag on the table, taking a seat and once again attempting to tie his shoelaces - now that he knew Lucy was safe and sound, there was no rush or panic in the attempt. However, his smile faded somewhat as he noticed the bright red slippers on the table... Dorothy's slippers. He had hopes she would be found, but he sincerely doubted it would be alive. People disappearing in situations like that rarely did - he had plenty of experience in that area.

"Lucy... are you okay?" He asked quietly, brow furrowed slightly in concern. In Mystvale, he was friendly with most of the people, but trust issues with-standing, he didn't really hold many of them close to his heart. Lucy was one of the exceptions. The fact that this had taken place just next door to her was concerning.

---

---

---

---

At first, in the midst of a deep sleep earlier that morning, Gwen had subconsciously believed the rumbling sounds to be those of mounted guards thundering over the wooden bridge at home, on their way to dispatch messages or inspect reports of trouble in one of the villages.
When pictures began falling off the wall to startle her into groggy consciousness, she realized it was nothing more than another earthquake.
Sleep was not to return and there was no point in chasing it down. So it was that, just as the pale grey of dawn began to creep into the cold, damp world, Gwen exited her loft apartment and made her way down to the florist shop below.

Electricity failed to spark to life when the switch was flipped.
Not entirely surprising when none of the other buildings on this street displayed any hint of light either. But it was vaguely irritating to know that she would have to successfully weave through what was certain to be a maze of upset tables, broken pottery, and toppled plants in the near dark before she'd be able to find the flashlight Patsy kept behind the counter.
Glass crunched beneath her boots as she gingerly tiptoed through the mess, briefly considering turning around and leaving until it was light enough outside to be able to see. The closer she got to the back of the room, however, a nearly indistinguishable sound caught her attention.
The sound of running water that was definitely not the rain dripping off the roof.

A pale beam of light spilled from the flashlight, sputtering and flickering in an irregular pattern, a clear sign the ancient batteries weren't going to hold out much longer.
Shoving aside a crumpled box of ribbons and a mound of plastic wrap, Gwen carefully eased the door to the greenhouse open, yanking it at the last second to get it over the catch in the floor. Humid air escaped into the shop, heavy with with the scents of dirt, foliage, freshness and decay, and the perfume of many exotic blooms. A film of condensation clung to the inside of the structure, warm air rising to meet the cool glass, droplets gathering and sliding down the inside of the panels to match the course of the rain that spattered against the top of the greenhouse.
At first glance everything was normal, amazingly nothing appeared to be out of place or even upset by the earthquake, give or take a few pots that had toppled over. The hope that nothing had been severely damaged died the second Gwen stepped down from the shop, muddy water splashing around her feet as she landed in a puddle that shouldn't have been there.

The faint sound that had prompted investigation turned out to be several burst pipes that were merrily spewing cold water over already drenched plants, well on the way to creating an indoor flood if left unchecked for much longer. Wading over to the valve Gwen did her best to crank it shut, knowing full well the old seal would only slow the deluge, not stop it entirely. Still, it managed to slow the water down enough to keep any more disaster at bay for a bit longer.

Unable to stand up against the rain and severely drained batteries the flashlight died halfway back to the loft, and Gwen had to fumble about in the dark until she found her phone, completely failing to notice the notification that she had missed a call as she spent the next couple hours trying to get a hold of plumber.
Strange as it might have been to people, Gwen didn't give more than a passing thought to the others in town. She had grown used to depending on herself since coming here, finding it difficult to form close friendships with any of the others. Besides, she knew perfectly well they could handle themselves through an earthquake, goodness knows they'd had plenty of them lately.
Right now she had to try do what she could to fix the situation at hand and keep her job.

---

---

---

---

Tink awoke to her apartment shaking. She wasn't exactly an expert on how the world works, but she was certain her apartment should not shake. And even stranger than the tremors that had awoken her, was the feeling in the air. The smell, the sounds, the sparkle everywhere. She knew what it was. Magic. Which should be impossible. But here it was.

She bit her lip as she stared around her home, eyes wide as she saw the magic, something she hadn't been able to do for years. There was less than there had been on Neverland, so much less, but it was there. And it was beautiful. So beautiful that a grin broke out on her lips, and she laughed, throwing her head back and spinning around. She had no clue what was happening, but whatever it was, it was amazing. She had to tell Peter.

She hadn't seen Peter in a few days, which wasn't too strange. He often spent days, moping about in that tree house of his, hiding away from mundanes and fables alike. How he stayed sane out there she had no clue, but she respected his privacy, and every time she did see him, he was given a hug like no other. Which is how things went as she practically skipped into Fairy Godmother's diner, grinning. She took a seat at the bar next to Peter, wrapping him up in a hug, before leaning in to whisper to him. "You feel it right? Tell me you can feel it."

---

---

---

---

Peter didn't quite know what he liked about the diner. He figured it was the Fairy Godmother. Peter hadn't ever had much in the way of the mother. Tink had always been closer to his best friend than his mother, and while she might treat him like a kid sometimes, he never saw her in such a light. After the Cataclysm though, Jessamine had helped, not only him but plenty of others. He respected that, and maybe he saw her as a sort of mother figure, not just for him but for the whole town.

He gladly accepted the offer of breakfast, and dug in to it the moment she set it down in front of him, offering up a rare smile as a thank you. He watched as more and more of his fellow fables entered the diner, seeking food and warmth. He wasn't close with many of them, but he knew them by their faces. Beauty and her Beast. Sherlock. Now he was a conundrum. A bit nutty, but an okay guy, at least from what he could tell. And then there was Prince Philip. Well, just Philip now I guess.

His analysis of the diner's patrons was interrupted by the entrance of Tink, probably one of the only people who could bring an actual grin to his face. He hugged her back, something that would never happen for anyone else, and listened as she whispered to him. He cocked an eyebrow and in response to his confusion, she hissed a word back. "Magic!"

His eyes widened, and as if she'd flipped a switch in his brain, he could feel it, tickling at his senses, pressing lightly on him. He felt his body tugging against the laws of gravity, and he grinned. He couldn't help it. Maybe this return meant something was going right for once. At least, that's what he hoped. "Looks like we have something to bring up at the meeting."

---

---

---

---

---

After restless hours of some resemblance of sleep, Rouge woke up and decided that today's events were annoying. Lancelot disrupted her entire day with a simple message and if anyone deserved to feel whatever wrath she wanted to vent, it was her. So she quickly put on her street clothes, a white blouse and red leather jacket, black slacks and her red high heels and made her way to her car.

She paused a moment before she got in, thinking about all of the things she had to do today. She took out her cell phone and jotted down a few reminders and sent them off to her assistant, who she KNEW would do them as asked less she want to lose her job for the 3rd time this month. With that, Rouge slammed the car door shut and pulled out of her garage and made her way to Lancelot's home.

It took very little time as it was early and not many were out and about, even with the power outages, people still wanted sleep. She slalomed past a few idiot drivers before she turned down the street she knew would lead her right to Lancelot's home, however, she glanced at a woman walking down the street. She shook her head in disbelief, how could a young woman be so stupid as to walk alone at this time.

It took her a brief second to put two and two together before she slammed on the breaks and made a quick U-turn. It was Lancelot walking down the street! That's who was stupid enough!

She quickly fled down the street before stopping and calling out to the woman, "Lance, darling, yoohoo, it's me! Why are you walking the streets at this time? Can I give you a lift?" Rouge called out in a somewhat delightful manner.

---

---

---

---

---

Esmaralda didn't actually sleep, instead she pranced around the room before her stomach started growling. She realized she hadn't actually eaten all day, apart from a muffin and coffee she got before she went to work at the studio. Until then, it was work work work. She reminded herself to pack a lunch or something to eat afterwards, but she decided that since she couldn't sleep, she would go to the local eatery that was close to home.

She quickly pulled on her dark wash jeans and a light purple tank top and her sneakers before she walked out the door. She made sure to be as quiet as possible, she didn't want to wake the up from a peaceful sleep. The late night doorman greeted her as she made her way outside. She walked quickly down the street towards the Diner as her stomach pleaded with her to get some food in her.

The walk was quiet enough. She may appear to be a lone young woman walking the streets alone, but she was far from helpless, should someone feel she is an easy target. Thankfully, it was a simple walk and before she knew it, the Diner was right in front of her.

She peered in the windows to see a bunch of familiar faces. It seemed she was not alone in her sleepless night. She walked through the door and greeted everyone with a smile and wave before she took a seat close to everyone and started looking in the menu. Food was her priority at the moment, conversation would have to wait.

---

---

---

---

Dang, this place was sure getting busy for the time of morning that it was. Leaning back against her seat, Beauty's eyes trailed over the customers in the diner as they entered. As Phillip walked in, she couldn't help a small smirk. Her teeth bit the inside of her bottom lip as she watched him take his seat. The poor guy was completely damaged and sad, but...Beauty let her eyes trail along his body and her smirk broadened.

Thanks to eight years with this girl, Adam was finally able to pick up on her body language. He glanced at her and watched her posture straighten, watched her lip be sucked in by her teeth. Raising a brow, he followed her line of sight and looked over his shoulder. Noticing Phillip, he gave a slight nod of his head in greeting before turning back around. He rolled his eyes at Beauty before picking up his menu, his eyes scanning over the too familiar arrangement. "Give it a rest, Beauty...The man has no interest in a married woman."

There went her good mood. Scoffing, she looked back at Adam and quirked a brow at him. "The vows weren't valid and you are very well aware of that, Beasty." She picked up her own menu and gave him a fake smile. "Or do I have to remind you of what you really are underneath all that skin?" Beauty gave a tilt of her head before looking at the menu choices.

Glancing up at her, he blew out a slow breath to keep his demeanor. Witch knew how to crawl under his skin. Shaking his head, Adam set the menu down before clearing his throat. "I'll go get us some coffee, dear". He stood and walked over to the counter, taking a seat a few over from Peter Pan. He couldn't help but to grin at the little interaction between Peter and Tinker. It made him greatly miss his friends back home.

---

---

While the rest of the world was sleeping, Ariel was up and in the shower, getting ready for another day at the aquarium. Sure, it was several hours before she actually had to be in the building, but she never could sleep much anymore. She could never really sleep that well on land and she constantly missed the sounds and movement of the ocean.

So there she was, singing her little heart out in her small stand up shower when the floor jerked underneath her. The lights simultaneously went out, as well as the hot water. With a little shriek, she reached for the handles and quickly turned them off. The girl took several breaths to calm her nerves before she groaned. Normally cold water didn't bother her, but when one second your body is turning red from the warmth, any body would be jolted by the sudden icy turn of events. Pulling back the curtain, she fumbled blindly for a towel before wrapping it around her. Ariel carefully made her way into her bedroom and reached for the clothes laid out on her bed. She slid on her work required one piece bathing suit, khaki pants and a blue polo top.

Grabbing her glasses, she slid them on before drying her still damp hair with the towel. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness as she looked around her apartment. Thankfully nothing seemed to be really out of place, even for the hoarder. She was fascinated with everything man made and her studio proved it. Every little nook and cranny were full to the brim with knick knacks and the sort. Tossing the towel into where she thought her hamper was, she felt her way back to the bathroom. Thankfully she had one of those portable light things tucked into a drawer. She took it out and hit the button for the light, causing a big grin to show itself on her face. Little things like that still amazed her.

Ariel quickly brushed her hair and put in her contacts with the aid of the light. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail before applying some waterproof eyeliner and lip gloss. Using the flashlight, she grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone before making it outside. Looking around, she could hear the other residents dealing with the aftermath of the earthquake. She gave a small frown and took a breath. It couldn't be anything good that these things were happening more frequently. Shaking her head, she looked down in time to feel her phone vibrate in her hands. Somebody was calling her on her funny looking shell! She quickly answered and placed it to her ear before hearing the message from Lucy.

Dorothy was missing? How many was that now? If sweet, innocent Dorothy was taken, then really anyone could be next. The thought was interrupted by the rumbling in her stomach. With a small laugh, she headed outside and got into her car. It wasn't very far to the diner, and she could see by the number of cars in the lot that she wasn't the only one who needed food. Or, more than likely, coffee. Heading inside, she smiled brightly at everyone before placing her behind on the very last seat at the counter.