a battlefield for my heart

Angela had shipped almost all of her stuff home, but it wasn't time to leave for her flight yet. The last of her luggage was stacked just inside the cabin living room. Outside the cabin, she sat on the ground near the campfire, poking at the ashes with a stick and thinking.

Main thought: Goodbyes sucked. And she had let her friends know she was leaving that day, so she had even more to look forward to.

Poke, poke, poke, she went at the fire, as if that could keep her in Fandom.

[OOC: If you think she told you she was leaving, she did.]

Angela woke up with a start from a dream where Marty was chasing her with a fireball. Her relief at being in her room, in her bed, with her cat sleeping at the foot of the bed, was temporary -- she realized all of it, from getting grabbed in the Perk and taken to a cabin where Marty (or someone who looked like him) demo0nstrated demon powers and threatened to kill her -- had really happened.

The fact Marty had reappeared a moment later and been normal, just worried, almost made things worse, as did learning Bridge and Z were also missing and Cally had been hurt by a demon.

At least it sounded like Tori could take care of herself.

Angela pulled the covers back over her head. she wasn't sure she could deal with the outside world, not yet.