The candle was a nice touch. A bit of an eerie one, but it was better light than Emma's crap flashlight nonetheless. She gave Cassandra a look that she'd have given a teacher in school. Impatience. Like they were wasting her time. She didn't look amused either. She couldn't very well tear apart the room in rage and frustration if she had a witness. Damn. There went that plan.
There was a bit of recognition at the sign. Though it was a common one. Sorry. That meant that Cassandra wasn't going to magically produce Emma's lost pack of smokes. And she definitely didn't look like the type to smoke, so she decided not to even ask if there was the possibility to bum one.
Her gaze followed as the candle was set down and watched as Cassandra typed on her phone. At least the lady was smart. Knew how to make technology work for her. Emma had absolutely no knowledge of sign, and didn't have the patience for charades.
She was also grateful that it was text-to-speech. If she couldn't make out room numbers, she sure as hell wouldn't be able to read tiny letters on a phone screen.
A raise of an eyebrow. "The spirits sent you, huh?"
Emma's religious beliefs included the belief in spirits. Fate. Destiny. Things of the like. But she generally didn't put trust in others to convey meaning from incorporeal entities effectively or correctly. Though most of what she'd had to go on were television "psychics" who only wanted people's money. People readers that did more harm than good.
"Well, I was trying to get to my room so I can hopefully get a shower and some shut eye," she sighed. "But, as you can see, I got discombobulated."
Disorientation was going to become Emma's close friend. And rather quickly. Her gaze moved from the flickering flame of the candle, and focused now on Cassandra's clothes. She was in pink. Oh fuck, pink. Not Emma's favorite color, but Emma wasn't the one wearing it, so she had no say in the matter anyway. For the record, Emma would have put her in something more of a powder blue.
Though it really wasn't the color that was bothering her. Even though Cassandra hadn't been making big movements, aside from crossing the room, the flow and pattern of the dress were almost infuriatingly dizzying. More infuriating than other people's clothing should be.