Room 301, Tuesday Afternoon

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was tired and weary, still, but a few days in Idris had done her some good. Even if everyone was still more than a little shell-shocked. Even if everyone was still in mourning for something or someone, and there had been a Council meeting to determine the place of the Seelie Court among them after their betrayal.

Even if the Hall of Accords had been draped with the blue banners of victory, a golden rune of triumph on each one.

It all felt very far away now that Isabelle was back on Fandom. Her room looked the same. Glitter and clothes spilled everywhere. Nothing here suggested the occupant had quite literally been to hell and back not too many days ago.

Isabelle sent out a single text to Flick – I'm here, and nothing else – and dropped her phone on her bed. And sighed.

[ooc: Open door, open post.]

Comments

[flickofthewrist]

Flick actually couldn't believe it when he got the text. He really couldn't.

He'd come back to the island, intending it to be brief, when his phone had buzzed. He looked at it, saw who it was from and nearly dropped the phone in surprise. Shock.

Then, he was bounding down the flights of stairs and moving his way to her room with a purpose. He'd barely slept, hadn't had a good shave in a few days and wanted to cry when he saw her there.

His words failed him so he just stared, one hand over his mouth.