Not Good at Nice

If there's any weird emo happening- and it really is- there's actually a reason for it. Aeryn knows they'll be leaving Fandom soon, and then it'll be a matter of trying to acclimate to the real world where everything is normal and she can't even shoot anything when she just needs to. She's known it was coming for a year, definitely, but still, it feels really soon now. Because it is.

After yesterday's weirdness and actually voicing the thought that she might not be able to bring the Prowler with her, Aeryn just wanted to be by herself. When it gets dark, she finally heads back inside and into the room, taking her shoes off at the door.

Aeryn comes back from the Perk with two cups in her hand, a smaller bag of some sort of baked good or another (one day she'll learn to order another way besides pointing at something randomly) held onto by two fingers on one hand. And because she's not going to put any of this down, she kicks at the door for John to let her in.

Aeryn's learned one really important lesson in the last year or so, namely that there is a big difference between random emo and dealing with the fallout of being under a lot of stress. And despite yesterday's talk, she's okay with taking some extra time to do her usual run around the preserve a second time. She'd had a lot of energy she just needed to burn off.

So she's in a better mood when she comes back to the room, though she's not sure how long that will last, if today's anything like yesterday.


[For John.]

You know it's bad when Aeryn doesn't see the point in the gym.

She knows she's been all over the place emotionally lately. Saturday was a bit of a breaking point and that was good. She needed it. By Monday she was considering things she never ever would have even thought of possibly considering even in the unforeseeable future. By Wednesday reality had sunk in again and today... Not so great.

Basic fact of the matter is if it hadn't been for Monday and the possibility of things and John's constant insistance that it could work... She doesn't know exactly. Or she knows and doesn't want to admit it. There. He knew once she was gone she couldn't come back. She'd needed him to know that. Except when the person who stays optimistic about all of this figures out it isn't going to work, then what's the point?

She's not doing anything drastic, though. With the way she's been going she knows better. She's just going to clean the ink off her wall.