Vanessa hasn't been a complete recluse, but she does as little as possible outside of her 'home' ever since the revelation of undead and coal sick. Not out of fear, but whatever sense of dread had built up throughout the tower has finally culminated in a very specific sense of loss. Loss of hope? Loss of direction? The path keeps trying to veer. Her legs are tired from the cursed journey.

So she sits in her room when not on mundane errands, mulling over the requests made by Karsa to lend aid. Vanessa has opted to stay because it is the swiftest route back to London, but what is this city of Serthica to her, anymore? What was it ever? Some immortal's plaything. Such as she has always been, perhaps her empathy for the city's plight is too great to tend to. It's an old wound by now. Perhaps the rot has infected her too deeply. Empathy is threatened to be traded for apathy.

The knock vexes her. She hasn't been humoring suitors of late, but when she goes to the window, it's a much more welcome face. Yes, also unwelcome. Guilt tears at Vanessa as she looks away from the window and finds her pocket watch. Red doesn't deserve poor treatment, but Vanessa doesn't yet know what to say to her while she's still in such a state.

Cautiously, she murmurs into the pocket watch, keeping the video off. Lacking her usual decorum, to say the least. "...Yes?"