Something easy. As if she'd ever found dreaming easy, as though she could create anything that wasn't born of pure desperate necessity. Everything in here is strange and loud and impossible, just the way she wants it, and not one single piece of it will do her any good back there if they decide to throw her back into jail before she can run.

Neither will FROM CHAOS, for that matter, but she'd feel a lot better about her chances against a castle full of wizards if she had her magic sword or at least a mindfuck sphere in her pocket. But the latter wasn't as immediate and visceral as the one with a pointy end, and it wouldn't be any good against the thing that was waiting to eat her alive. Having it in her hands at the end is almost worth drowning for, but the part of her that wants to live disagrees enough to spur her onward in search of something she knows she can bring back correctly.

She runs down a spiral staircase faster than anyone ought to be able to manage in the heels she's wearing, and there's a freshly-packed suitcase (zebra-striped, amazingly tacky) waiting for her by the front door. She sighs, exasperated, and grabs it. At least a change of clothes will be useful.

"Fine. Whatever. Let's go before I melt."