comeoutwrong: (☾ quiet and innocent (or not).)
What are you thinking about? )

[[Most dialogue taken from Skins 4x07 "Effy". In my head, Foster's involvement ends here... Yes.]]
comeoutwrong: (☾ looking back)
For all that they tried to be cutesy and non-threatening, there was something about this place that incited a certain distinct unease. )

[[NFI and NFB cause of distance, and as usual warnings for Effy and her issues. Welcome to the Skins idea of psychological care.]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ wallowing in emo)
Effy'd never been much of a talker. This time, she didn't think she'd need to say much.

It was more a show than a tell. It'd gone way further than she should've let it go, and somewhere inside she knew it. Looking at her walls now, with her mum at her side, she knew that. It'd been a long time, too long, just staring, and it was when Anthea started using the door frame for support that Effy finally broke the silence.

"Mum." She swallowed, watching her take everything in. "... Mum."

Anthea didn't seem like she was in the place to respond, so Effy shut up again, and waited. Eventually they'd talk. Or she'd be talked at, more likely. Until then, she was just going to have to wait.

[[Establishy, and vaguely adapted from canon. She'll be popping home for a bit, but will be back.]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ regaining control)
Peter was gone, and his side of the room was now bare and empty. Effy's mum, however, had landed, and supposedly was on the island. At least, there were several texts implying it and asking where she was. Effy hadn't bothered to go find her.

Daughter of the Year award was not going to find a home here. )

[[Again, door is closed, but should anyone want to disturb her they can. The usual warnings apply. Improvement is on the horizon, I promise.]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ little bit mental.)
Everyone has their ways of dealing. )

[[ Warning for mental instability and mentions of substance abuse. The door is closed, but the post can be open if anyone particularly wants to deal with her. ]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ little bit mental.)
Most days, Effy found issues could be pretty easily buried. She was practiced, good at it, and spending time away had helped. Skiing wasn't her, snowboarding, hot tubbing, relaxing. It wasn't really her. Actually it was easier not being her.

But. Reality had slowly leaked back in, and there were days like today, when she let her guard down and dreams of other places slithered in and got comfortable and brought friends, and bothered her. A lot.

Without class today to take her mind off things, she had to make her own entertainment. Shift her focus away from whatever shit was taking up space in her mind. No, today she had a... project.

Effy could be surprisingly productive when she was thrown into the right -- or possibly wrong, mental state. She should probably be considering what Peter would think of her new decorative impulses. Whatever. It was a little marker pen, and on her side of the room at least.

[[Door and post are open, Effy is... weird.]
comeoutwrong: (☁ by the bed.)
Sleep, still not the easiest thing to come by, and when it finally did, the timing was all off, leaving Effy crawling her way to consciousness in the early afternoon. Not that it mattered, really, since it was a weekend anyway.

There was the surfacing of the realisation she should probably get up, get dressed, go out, do something... But not really the inclination. Too many other things spinning around in her head. A brief investigation down the side of her bed revealed the bottle she kept there was empty. Well. There went that solution. Shit.

Eventually, she made the effort to slip out of bed and turn up her music loud enough to almost drown out most of the snippets of conversation in the back of her head making her twitchy, and slid down to sit on the floor, back against her bed and head dropped back against the mattress. Picking up bad, floor-sitting habits. Wonder whose fault that was.

[[Door is closed, post can be open with the warning the girl is extra messy and broken. ETA: aaand I should probably tack on an extra WARNING for delicate subject matters ahead: discussion of alcohol abuse, mental health issues, etc.]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ under the bed.)
Effy's head was still full of the fogged up confusion as she ran back to the dorms, and her mind was barely starting to wrangle the stray thoughts and overriding fear into something manageable by the time she reached her room.

There was trippy and there was wrong, and that had been all wrong. Under her hands had been a person, and in her head there was a misshapen monster, and there was blood and fear. But bits and pieces were starting to slip back into reality through the haze, and she almost didn't want that. Someone got hurt.

Desperately needing something safe, she firmly closed her door and dropped flat on her stomach, scooting into the enclosed space under her bed while she tried to gather her thoughts and recover her control. She might be there for a while.

[[The Fog might've worn off, but she's still a little unstable. It can be open should anyone have a reason to stop in. Following this once it's played out.]]

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Elizabeth Stonem

October 2012

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