fandomtownies | Atlas Gym, Monday (1/25)

So that was another weird-ass weekend done and in the books, huh? It had skipped Beau again, and she wasn't complaining; for one, she'd be showering for a week if she had ended up acting like exactly the kind of person her parents thought she should be, and hell no. For another, she'd much rather write it all down in her journal from an outside perspective anyway, and she'd already done that. Which meant that today, in her down time, she was sitting at the desk typing furiously, or at least as furiously as someone still trying to teach herself touch typing could.

Kind of literally furiously, actually -- she was having an argument with a guy in one of her classes who was a total mansplaining asshole, and it was a good thing that it was happening online or there would have been fisticuffs a while ago.

But it was happening online, and so the worst it got was her swearing at her computer while typing what sounded like paragraphs-long rants, from the amount of aggressive key clicking that was going on. And occasionally stopping to scratch the weird random itch on the back of her left hand. Not sure where that came from ~~[hysterical laughter]~~. It was annoying, though.

At least going through the parkour course or one of the heavy bags let her work some of it off a little bit.

Post open! I don't wanna have to go back into the office this week.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After a weekend of avoiding some overly sweet Fandom weirdness by staying at home watching entertainments, Seivarden was in desperate need of a workout. And to talk to someone who was their usual self.

Even if they had a lot of attitude. She could deal with that.

So she entered the gym in the morning, letting out a sigh.

"Sometimes I really like Mondays."

"Sometimes normal and boring isn't a bad thing?" guessed Beau. "Couldn't handle the last couple of days, huh?"

She couldn't help it sometimes.

"I stayed inside for two days and watched entertainments," Seivarden said. "My roommate had some kind of shoe obsession. At least the cat was normal."

She really felt like lifting something heavy.

Beau let out an obnoxious frat boy laugh, her expression hinting that she was laughing at Seivarden for hiding out for the weekend. (She wasn't really, but she also wasn't making an effort to clarify that.) "I think our dog was talking a little bit? It was weird. That shit skipped me, though."

She was not complaining about that. That whole deal was what her parents had wanted her to be like and nooooooooo thanks.

She hadn't been hiding! She had just done her best to ignore it.

"That's always something. And in situations like these I am so glad to be able to watch Radchaai entertainments."

She headed towards the weight section.

"Why specifically those?" Beau wanted to know.

"Because they make sense," Seivarden said.

And they reminded her of home.

"I get being partial to shit you're familiar with," Beau said, "but do you realize, or do you care, if that sounds like you're saying nothing else makes sense?"

The homesickness thing might make her a bit less skeptical, especially since she was starting to build an actual emotional connection back in Exandria herself. Not, of course, that she'd say so.

"I suppose I did get used to Earth ones last time I was here," Seivarden admitted. "But there is always something that doesn't make sense. Even if it's something small."

Yes, it made her more homesick.

"Doesn't make sense?" Beau crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "Or are you not, like, taking cultural differences into consideration? You have your thing about being more civilized than people here or whatever. You don't think that's affecting your view?"

Oh no. And they had almost been getting along.

Seivarden snorted. "Taking them into consideration doesn't mean they make sense."

Let's not get into the discussion about who was more civilised. It was a little more complicated these days, even if just a little.

And here Beau wasn't even trying to fall back on her old habit of deliberately pushing people away; she was genuinely curious, but not making an effort to be less abrasive about it.

"Okay but like... how exactly do you define making sense? Are there like set criteria for this?"

... okay, genuinely curious but also being a little bit of a brat.

"Don't you have an idea about what makes sense to you?" Seivarden countered, definitely suspecting that Beau was being a brat.

Atlas Gym, Monday (1/25)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject