[Action: 1763 Beaver Street]

[It wasn't often that Claire found herself waking up in an unfamiliar place. It seemed that lately in her life, waking up under such circumstances meant immediate danger, and she decided to react to it accordingly.

She jumped out of the bed--practically fell out, really--and put her back up against the wall. Whose clothes were these, anyway? She would never have worn these awful yellow pajamas. She scanned the utterly unassuming room once over before she finally noticed someone else shared the room with her. It was some man she had never seen in her life, she was sure. He had been sharing the bed with her and was still asleep.]

What?

[In full panic mode now, Claire had little interest in staying in the room any longer. Not even stopping to examine closely the house she had found herself in, she began a search for the exit. She stopped once to grab a plain black umbrella in the hall and wielded it like a club as she made her way out the front door.

She stopped at the front step, holding up one hand to block the incoming sun. Claire found herself gawking at the suburban environment that surrounded her]

Just what the hell is going on around here?

[Phone]

[There's a bit of a sigh on Claire's end. She's really trying not to sound too frustrated] I really have no idea what's going on. Well, I do, but- [A pause]

... Okay. I'm trying not to freak out. I'm accomplishing that so far, I think.

[She clears her throat] Anyway.

My name is Claire Redfield. If that name sounds familiar to anybody, then please, please, can you try to reach me? I'm trying to look for some people and it's possible they ended up here as well. Or at least, I hope so. [She's about to add 'or maybe not', because really, did she want them to be kidnapped as well? Especially in some place as nonsensical as this? She decides to just put the phone down, fearing that anything else she had to say would just sound strained]