[ So.

It looks like she doesn't exactly get a choice in experiencing this festival, does she? Unless she stayed in all day which... No. No, being stuck in a little room all day sounds like—

Sounds just like what she left behind, honestly.

So, if nothing else, Kate doesn't have to be forced into participating in this. She glances at and bypasses stall after stall, every offering sweet and sickly, until she's eventually cornered by an observant bot running a stall with several drinks laid out upon it. ]

I told you no. [ But, but but! ] Don't want owt. Get lost.

[ How, exactly, does a robot get to be this insistent? Somebody send help. ]

[ At first, nothing seems unusual. Not for her. Not until a path leads somewhere it shouldn't have — didn't she just come from here — and Kate slows to a halt, blinking and shaking her head, trying to push away cobwebs which have suddenly formed.

But it's just a moment's glitch, a small thing. She's fine. She just has to double back again, and she'll be—

Wait. Did she go left, or right?

And what is that single, flickering fluorescent light? So familiar and

gone.

Gone and back again, blinking in the corner of her eye, an consistent annoyance. ]

... The hell...?

[ She squints, turning her head in that direction, but nothing. Not even the path she should be seeing. Just a blank wall, dark damp stone and the scent of age and disuse. ]

No— fuck— fuck!

[ Gone is the unfamiliar pathways of Anchor, gone is sunlight and skyline, gone is everything but a flickering light in the corner of her eye and the blank square of a cell, one steel door and a window looking out to an abandoned table with nothing more than two dusty old coffee cups.

Not here. Not again. Her stomach twists and her fists meet the side of the wall with a thud, ineffectual and hollow, but she wouldn't expect anything else in this cell. ]

Somebody got a map of this place?

Want to get to the gym this time.

[ you know how this goes. hit me with anything. ]