[the errant explorer on one of the floors of the hotels may be the lucky winner of bearing witness to the unintentionally violent yanking-off-the-hinges of a linen closet at the end of the hall at the hands of a dark-haired girl in a fringed skirt.]

Oh... [one of the pins holding the hinges in place tinkles to the ground and rolls at her feet.

oops.

she stands there, back to any witnesses, her face beet red as she stares at the sliver of closet she can now see, now that the door is askew. she appears to be in something of a quiet shock as she hastily goes over her options here. she should try to fix this. she could make a quick exit and forego the blame, but she really should try to fix this. but if she lets go of the handle, is the door going to sag with the awkward weight and break entirely off the single hinge??

thank goodness there are currently no witnesses.]

Excuse me...

[the girl bends a little to meet the person sitting in the booth closer to eye-level. she smiles, a touch timid, a dash hopeful.]

It's awful crowded, isn't it? [seems so to her.] Would...you mind if I sat here, too? On this side. [the vacant side.] Or are you waiting for someone?

...

[wait. huh? this isn't her room.

she frowns immediately, eyes narrowed as she steps into the unfamiliar room, hair prickling on the back of her neck. as she fights past the danger sense in her head warning her of unknowable threats, she forces herself to paint this space into the whole of the hotel she's in.]

...Too big to be along this wall...right...?

[she'd muse more, but someone's just come through the door opposite, wholly catching her attention.]

Oh-- Is, this isn't... Wait. [she's flummoxed.] How...how is there a door there? [that should be open air. that's the window-facing side!

...right?]

Was there a battle...?

[she's wondering aloud, her pacing having slowed to a stop as she takes in the long line of headstones before her, her expression scrunched with concern. it seems to go on forever, but that can't be; she was certain she was heading toward the fenceline, and yet it seems even further than before.

a battle...that was the first thing that came to mind, seeing such volume. what else could it possibly be? she has to really consider it.] A plague? [...surely these aren't over time; they're all relatively of the same wear, right? maybe...

when company comes her way, she's musing aloud as such, bending forward to wipe sand off the face of one of the headstones, trying to make out the name. when she catches glimpse of a shape under the brim of her hat, she lifts her head and looks, hesitating before straightening up, watching, curious and hesitant about whoever's approached.]