Upon finally reentering the CSC zone, Quinn let out a long, shaky breath. The time she'd spent with the Derisas had helped immensely, and she'd spent the remaining few hours trying to paradoxically be part of the crowd, yet skirt around it as much as possible. It was...not the easiest thing to do, and her nerves were screwed up so tightly she thought her whole body would snap. As the sun had begun to dip down over the bay she had been filled with a terrified crushing sensation that someething truly awful was about to happen. And so being escorted away from the crowd and into her quiet room was a balm on her raw soul. 

And it was the right kind of quiet, too. Not silent, but [i]Aerie[/i] quiet, where she could occasionally hear Besca or Dahlia clattering in the kitchen or filtering in and out of the dorm at odd times; or Roaki...[i]growling[/i] in her sleep? That kind of quiet, where the occasional boots in the hallways outside became more of a comforting metronome than provoking any kind of anxiety.

Her door was cracked open just half an inch or so, not as much as she wished but hopefully little enough that it would keep most of the noise inside as she flopped down on her bed and let out a combination of a sigh and a groan. She let her eye slide closed for a brief moment, focusing on the bootstep metronome, as she tried to excise the tension from her body. And failed in [i]spectacular[/i] fashion, an instinctual part of her still convinced deep down that the screaming was going to start from outside any second. Well, at least Camille couldn't fault her for trying, and she hadn't had a breakdown.

Well. At least it had been a week since she arrived in Casoban. And that meant...

She plucked her phone from where she'd haphazardly let it drop on the hotel nightstand, leaned back against the plush hotel pillow, entered her contacts list, and tapped on the very first name: [i]Besca.[/i]

It rang once, twice, thrice, then was picked up on the fourth ring. Quinn's voice, when she spoke, had a familiar character to it: a thin, reedy thing, the unfulfilled but burgeoning promise of tears looming behind her.

"[color=ffe63d]Hi, Besca...[/color]"