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: (☾ on the bed)
Effy, being the discerning sort, had avoided getting caught up in the freak storm of mis-communication yesterday. She didn't talk enough to bother leaving people hundreds of messages, and that had really worked in her favour. The message she'd been left yesterday got to stay on her voicemail. It amused her.

True to this trait, she was busy texting back and forth with Panda this afternoon, trying to solve her friend's relationship issues. Effy found it particularly ironic that Pandora chose her of all people for all these questions. Like she had a brilliant track record with this shit.

Lounging sideways on her bed with her head dangling half off the edge as she look particularly comfortable, but left her with the option to glance out her open door and keep an eye on whatever the fuck her cross-hallway neighbor was doing wandering to apparently just stare into the hallway periodically.

Maybe she'd go ask later. When she could be bothered.

[[Door and post open, I completely failed at playing with phones yesterday, so I LINKDROP TODAY, DAMN IT.]]
comeoutwrong: (☁ wallowing in emo)
Yeah, even if class hadn't been canceled the last couple days, there was no fucking way that Effy was going out there. The last time things had gone this haywire and it'd hit her was still far too fresh in her mind, and even looking out the window at the changing island was making her feel beyond twitchy.

No. Staying in, curled up on her bed with her arms around her knees, smoking, and listening. Not to anything anyone else could hear (well unless they were the sort who could eavesdrop on internal chatter), but-- Listening.

Maybe she should be trying to block all that out, go out and help with... Whatever was going on. But at moments like this, when things were going wrong around her, it became that little bit too much effort to do anything and, well, this use of time did give her a masochistic sort of entertainment.

[[Door's closed, but the post can be open. Effy, as usual, is all messed up.]]
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.]

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Elizabeth Stonem

October 2012

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