Post by CLAIRE LYON on May 15, 2016 20:17:16 GMT -5
► oh it eats us alive  Yes there's a scream inside That we all try to hide We hold on so tight But I don't wanna die |
solo JAIME > soooo... what's been going on? > u ok? > none of us have seen you for a while so uh... we were wondering if everything was good with you > u work too hard > all of us are going out sunday night... you in? The June afternoon was humid. Claire was laying on her bed, blonde hair let down and sticking to her forehead at the hairline. On her back, phone was held above her head, staring at the messages. They had actually been sent quite some time apart, some of them by a few days. There were others as well, some read, some left untouched or forgotten, most of them unreplied to. She sighed, letting her arm flop back and hit the pillow above her head, eyes closing. Hot. She didn't feel like thinking, and instead just allowed her chest to rise and fall, the room around her silent except for the sounds of the city outside, cars and people passing by. The ordinary felt so out of place these days. Her little studio flat felt foreign, as if it were a permanent hotel room rental and not her real home, the one she came back to at the end of most nights. Her clothes too, were of course not what she typically wore in the Digital World- a loose tank top and distinct lack of bottoms, just her underwear. The woman she played every day would have laughed at how out of character she looked, if it weren't so embarrassing. Odd now, that she felt awkward in the city she grew up in. Going out and buying milk, going to work, eating dinner with friends- all more strange than combat with massive and fantastical monsters. "You're not going to answer that?" Walter was on the other pillow, staring at her phone- the display was still lit and apparently he'd been reading her messages. With a short groan, the woman turned away, shutting the display off. None of his business- he could be so intrusive. The Lopmon sighed, stretching out a bit. His ears were sweating, at least that's what it felt like. "You haven't gone out with them in forever. It sounds like they're missing you." Irritation rose in her stomach. Perhaps she would respond eventually, but hearing him say that somehow made her want to turn her phone off and not look at it for the rest of the night. It seemed like all Walter did these days was nag her. He used to be so much fun, and so compliant, perfectly happy to do whatever she wished. Ah, but things were so different now. "... Maybe. Don't be so dramatic," she mumbled after a moment, shutting her eyes. Ironic words, coming from her. "It's just an outing, not a big deal." He frowned, short muzzle wrinkling a bit. "You say that, but when was the last time you rested? Really rested and caught up with your responsibilities here?" A small paw tapped the woman's bare shoulder, which caused Claire to promptly pull away, shaking him off. Responsibilities. How many of those did she keep up with nowadays? Probably... work, was the major one. At the very least, she had to make enough to keep her apartment, pay bills... But did she really? Would it really be so awful for her to disappear from the real world? Pretend she's moving away somewhere, and take up residence in the Digital World? People did it, she knew. Some children had been living exclusively in the Digital World for longer than she'd even been a tamer. It wouldn't take much- she already had the stock of bits needed to make the switch, and abandon this lazy, dull life in London in this boring, safe world where eventually her life would end up just like everybody else's. She looked at her phone, flipping through the different unread texts. DANIEL > call me? KRIS > How are you feeling? Are you going to make it to work tomorrow, or are you still sick? DAD > We tried to call you. > Can we talk? > Call me as soon as possible. Silently, she shut off the display, then reached over and placed her phone on the top of the nightstand. Eyes closed again, and all she could hear was the ticking of her clock and Walter's soft breathing. She chose to focus on the clock, hoping the rhythmic ticks would help her sleep, finally. There had been no such luck last night. If it yet again failed, she would head to the North to cool off. "Claire speech." "Walter speech." |
