"Guys, let's have a chat, shall we? I'll go to the hotel. You better be there when I come in." These words were spoken in a sweet tone, but the intent behind them was far from sweet. Finally, finally after several weeks of wondering - should I, shouldn't I ask? - Cordelia had come to a decision. And it wasn't pretty.
She went to a hatch and took out a bottle of vodka - something she deemed was necessary for her chat with Angel and Wesley. She'd get one man drunk or bash the other over the head with it - whatever's necessary to get some answers. She's tired of playing the ignorant role that they've unwittingly assigned to her, and damnit, Cordelia was going to listen to how the hell her friends ended up working for the enemy. She knew she wouldn't like it - but at least she would know.
"Angel?" she called, stepping into the hotel. She deposited her tablet on the counter. "Wesley! Where are you? I need to--"
BAM.
The room spun, and somewhere in her head there was an incessant buzzing. The bottle she held crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces and spraying liquid everywhere. Cordelia took several steps back, her mind numb and aching and geez, was it a vision? Impossible! Visions weren't supposed to hurt anymore since she was--
--lost?
When she opened her eyes, she found herself alone in a lobby of some sort. There was a broken bottle in front of her; where did it come from? Frowning, she avoided the mess and looked around. No. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't!
"Hello?" she called timidly, heading towards the counter. "Anyone here?" She picked up a phone-like thing and peered at it curiously. "What... where the hell am I?"
[Cordelia's amnesia
glitch. Hello salty confusion!]