The unfortunate thing about life after Fandom was that it required a job that didn't give you time off for weirdness or the potential apocalypse. Isabel had managed to get through her shift on Saturday although she'd grown progressively more on edge as the evening wore on and she realized the number of staff people that weren't around when they were supposed to be.
With Wyatt in San Francisco checking the Book of Shadows, sleep wasn't really an option once Isabel got home. Instead she spent most of the night texting Wyatt and Parker like some sort of crazed stalker just to be sure they were still around. Isabel was definitely not thinking about what she would do if one of them stopped responding.
At some point she did finally doze off for a few hours of restless sleep, only to be woken by her alarm reminding her that crisis or not, there was a job to go to.
Cranky and clutching her coffee, Isabel left her car at the parking lot she used and walked towards the Vegas Strip, only to stop dead at the sight before her. Instead of several acres of buildings housing a casio, shopping and hotel towers, there was only blackness. A blackness it seemed only she could see judging by the tourists that brushed past her without a care in the world.
Things were getting serious. Pulling out her phone, Isabel
left a few messages for some people. After another incredulous look at where the casino used to be, she
headed home to wait.
[For phone calls, visits, etc...]![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
