Where: Hyperion Hotel
Still unsure of who she really was, Cordelia found herself rummaging through her box of old stuff. Well, it was more like old crap to her since she had no real memory or connection, except the pictures. She rather enjoyed rifling through the photos, though felt a strange chill whenever she saw the photos of her and Angel with the baby.
Thankfully, she didn't seem to lose any knowledge of Los Angeles or any other general knowledge, so she still knew the best places to shop, which was oddly comforting. Maybe the "real" Cordelia enjoyed shopping, she figured. She couldn't take being cooped up much longer, especially with these so-called friends. They were all being super nice, of course, but it was just weird having to suddenly get to know all these strange people.
She wandered into the lobby--as she usually did when she got bored of staring at her photos, while desperately trying to make sense of them--and found herself in one of the offices full of old, musty books. She sat at a desk and flipped through the pages slowly and carefully, making "yeah" noises every now and then.
Living in this old hotel was definitely bizarre and demon hunting was an even stranger profession. Where had the "real" Cordelia gone wrong? Did she actually enjoy all this?