Lulu wandered the streets of Staten Island looking disturbed. While one could argue that Lulu always looked disturbed there was an unmistakable element of wistfulness present in her scowl today. 

She was struck with this unshakable idea that something was missing from the world.  An ancestral memory of some omnipresent source of joy. 

The pang was most felt when she thought of animals (she'd been rehousing guard dogs from Hetfield's HQ and was petitioning Numbers4Glory for a kitten) and when she was dancing (which she did for hours whenever possible, although she'd cast something right nasty on anyone who found her out with the civilians at the clubs) but what exactly was missing she couldn't work out.  She just knew the world was surely worse for lack of it.  She felt just trying to manage her options in general had been impaired.  There was some box she just couldn't check. 

But what?