[Well, reach out and whomever can move of their free will may feel her hair. She is bound to a chandelier, though she'd say it's more a wheel with melted candles because it was time to be thrifty. She wriggles at his touch and tells herself this stranger chilling in a cave dark room doesn't mean to upset her.]

Part of the party, I'm afraid. Few hours each day's the usual, though for the last no one but you's stopped by. You know about it, right?

[Her voice's upbeat enough, and she's trying to smile, but the lack of further reaction creeps up her spine, cold, and she forces away dread. He tested. He tried, right? He tried. People don't try if they don't want to help, even if it's for themselves.]


(OOC: OK by me.)