The ground floor of the Hyperion is abandoned, except for the lonely figure of Cordelia sitting at the desk behind the counter. Doodling on a pad, she feels restless and very wide awake. Without being hit with a vision, let alone a painful one, she's felt incredibly on edge; she's used to them occurring after a certain amount of days and weeks, of when the weather looks a little green in the sky, but going without them for so long gives her a reason to worry.

It's a slow adjustment, going from months of migraines to merely seeing something play out before her eyes like a mere memory. Painless, it gives Cordelia a sense of an anxious layer sitting on her shoulders; where there are no consequences, there is always trouble. In her case, it's always very big trouble. Cordelia Chase can deal with trouble, but her sleeping clock cannot.

So sitting at the desk with her head leaning against her closed fist while she draws circles and images from past visions she still has saved inside her head, she doesn't hear nor sense anyone else in the room. Angel's locked up brooding in a corner while Fred draws on even more walls while Gunn and Wesley watch her adoringly from afar. It's all fun and games, and it's a breath of necessary fresh air, but Cordelia can't enjoy it as much as she normally would. Something horrible is coming. She doesn't need the Spidey Senses the Powers have given her to know that. What it happens to be, though, she can't quite put her finger on it, and that is what truly keeps her up on most nights; trying to foresee something before they are ready to let her see it. It's a migraine in the making.