((sorry for the double post, I completely missed that it was posted at 6 am))
Charlie had been unable to sleep - the building's physical change was creeping her out, although certain floors felt suspiciously like home, which was something she was incredibly unfamiliar with. So she'd thrown on some clothes, grabbed her bike helmet, and gone riding through the small hours of the night, clearing her mind of everything that was going on.
Stepping back into the lobby (fucking sand everywhere, it was like a goddamn Indiana Jones movie come to life) she took a few steps in and immediately spotted a woman in a blue dress she'd not met before. Whether she was new to the building or was just a casualty of Charlie's carefully executed plans to avoid everyone was something that was beside the point. The woman was photographing everything. What, is she going to sue the landlord or something? Shrugging, she turned away from the scene, not needing to interrupt her for whatever reason. She stepped off to the side, taking a closer look at the drawings that looked like five-year-olds could have done them. OK, maybe a ten-year-old, but Charlie wasn't a curator of any sort.
Her eyes fell on one of the jars reputedly holding organs, or so said the notices on the forums. She was fairly sure she could believe that - after all, the weapons that had sprung up on her floor were real enough - but curiosity was eating away at her brain and she found herself reaching for one that had the head of some sort of bird. It was a little weighty, and would certainly sell well at the pawn shop she'd found recently. No one was going to miss it, right? Not like it belonged to anyone...