Allison lets out a deep sigh, looking at her blurry reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, while drying her hair with a towel. She holds back the habit of wiping the condensation clean with her towel, as it would not really help. Plus leaving it hazy leaves a bit of hope somewhere in her mind that the reason she cannot see herself was from the hot shower and not damnation.
She grabs another white towel, the kind so common to hotels, and wraps it around her body. She glances to the mirror for a moment, biting her lip and the urge to see if her reflection is still there. Not looking for obvious disappointment, Allison flicks the switch, turning the bathroom lights off and heading into the common area of her hotel room.
Allison grabs her i-phone off of the night stand and then plops down onto the bed. Her laptop, near the foot of the bed, jumps into the air, surprising Allison. She cannot help but laugh, glad that it did not fall to the floor and break.
Opening up her laptop, Allison goes to work, canvasing the usual locales for whatever information she can find. Facebook, forums, e-mails, and yes even twitter, all hold the potential for kindred rumors to fly nonchalantly below the radar of the masquerade.
Max Heinz, Chris Wooding, John Smith, Erich Passions, Velma Starr, Ashley Cohen, and Albert Sawyer...
...What a list...
It does not take Allison a long time to ask the Cacophony, in the various facets she was familiar with, about information on the people who are competing against one another for Regency. Allison knows that the most time consuming part of it all is going to be in waiting for a reply. Then the follow-up flattery to try and coax the information out, and then more waiting...god only knows how many time that cycle will repeat...
With the internet and e-mail covered, Allison sorts through her contacts on her i-phone. While it would be much easier to just send out a group text, it would be obvious and a bit impersonal. Allison takes the time, with help of copying and pasting, to send each and every inquiry separately.
Doing all that she could do from her hotel room, Allison glances to the thick blanket covering the window.
The sun would be up soon, and she still did not have a chance to snack...
Who to call...
Who to call...
Cacophony Listener
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