vanillajello: (Never again thanks.)
The day before yesterday, Kate had gotten a call and it hd become official: she was going to Japan! She was going to go to Japan and teach English. And she'd been fucking thrilled. No, seriously. She'd been thrilled about it when she'd given everyone the news, she'd been thrilled when she'd gone to bed, she'd been thrilled when she'd woken up yesterday, and she'd still been thrilled when she'd bounced her way across the front yard to go to her parents' house.

And then a letter messes with her boundless excitement. )

[ooc: NFB and mostly establishy, but can be open if you really want to deal with the weird, weird mood.]
vanillajello: (Using my brain.)
Fire. There's someone on fire. But Kate can't see who it is until the figure turns around and it's her but not her but her and she's standing there and the flames lick up her arms and she's on fire but then it's Mitchell, wild-eyed with a fire inside, and it's Hannibal and the flames go from hot to cold from hot to cold in time with his eyes, and then it's Jack and Emma and Karla and Sebastien and David and Bod and Marshall and Max and Tara --

And then it's Annie, serene calm beautiful Annie like that time in the cellar, and everything stops for a single awful second as she smiles.

And then the flames swallow her up and there's nothing but the fire.


-----


Kate had been very, very glad to not wake up screaming. She had been very glad to wake up, period. Her subconscious was not the place to be right now, her dreams had made that abundantly clear. She'd had no trouble getting out of bed since she'd craved a cold shower to fully wake her up and make sure nothing lingered on.

After the shower, she'd changed her clothes, put on some music, opened the door, made her bed and then flopped down on it with a notebook to make plans for a third floor welcome she wasn't sure she'd even organize.

Saturday wasn't shaping up to be a day to be bubbly and welcoming.

[ooc: Open post, open door. ETA: I would like to call all Mitchell stuff NFB, please and thank you!]
vanillajello: (Attack of the numb.)
Having put up her posters, Kate had returned to her room to continue her good day with further party planning. But that was sadly not to be: her phone had been charging while she'd been away and she'd finally gotten around to seeing she had a voicemail. So she listened to it.

Bad idea.

Her first thought was that it was a sick joke, that Nathan really was pushing things too far in an effort to be excused for his radio silence since leaving, but she couldn't hold onto that bit of disbelief for long. The woman – Nathan's mom – was far too shaken, the quivering of her voice far too real. It was all real. On the second listen Kate had to sit down on the edge of her bed because the room had started to spin, but it took about four times before it all started really sinking in.

Forcing herself to skip listening a fifth time, her brain instead switched on to practical matters, the first of which was leaving a voicemail of her own. And the second... Was staring dully into the middle distance.

She'd maybe get to something a little more useful later.

[ooc: Post and door open, if you wish to deal with the upset.]
vanillajello: (Darkness and light.)
Thanks to her dreams, Kate had woken up today to the completely crushing thought that there'd be no more lazy mornings of waking up happy and clinging and sprawling, and having the familiar smell of pale graveyard boy be the first thing to register with her about a new day.

Taking that into account, it was really no surprise she'd been feeling a little on the quiet and brooding side of things after getting up. Apparently things were really starting to sink in, and maybe she was starting to sink with them.

She'd be harassing Mitchell for a night at the pub today, she was sure. Or a tiny house party. Or something. Anything to get her out of this mood.

But right now she was looking through the music collection on the shelves in the living room. That was a distraction, at least, if only a tiny one.

[ooc: NFB, open to bristolians and/or people with telephones!]
vanillajello: (On the computer.)
After everything that had happened over the last week, and what little had happened today, Kate was just so very glad to have a completely unrelated thing to focus on.

And right now, that thing was the thought of getting a new fake little sibling tomorrow. So, she'd been putting together a little welcome kit with some useful items. It felt a little dorky, but it was pretty fun, actually, doing that. And distracting, which was the important thing.

She'd even considered baking a batch of cookies, but then decided against it both because there'd be enough food at the welcome picnic, and she wasn't really feeling the idea of standing in the common room baking right now. She'd just offer to bake the kid something at a later date.

So now, Kate was just sprawled on her bed, making a refresher list of all the things a newbie to fair Fandom island should be told on their first day.

And she was eating chocolate. Chocolate was a good thing.

[ooc: Open door, open post!]
vanillajello: (Sitting.)
Two weeks and a day ago, on New Year's Eve, around this time, Kate had been dancing with Jason, teasing him and smiling at him, having just apologized to him for being a bitch the day before.

Two weeks and a day ago, around this time, Kate had been feeling like maybe Jason was actually a pretty decent guy to be around.

Exactly a week ago, and now. )

She kept trying to tell herself that it made no sense, the amount of pain she was in. She didn't really even know all that much about Jason! And hadn't she gone on a date with Warren within the last two weeks, and didn't she still want to go out with him again? Wasn't all this pain and overpowering sadness overdoing it a little for a guy she'd only known for, like, five minutes?

But the thing was that she hadn't had a chance to process anything about what was going on with her and Jason until it was over. It had been somehow violent, the way he'd gotten so close so fast, and it was a lot to take in. She needed to figure out what it actually was that had ended so quickly, before she could let it go. She needed to close herself off. To deal. To hurt.

To stare off into space and pity herself.

[ooc: Establishy, as she won’t open the door for anyone yet, and I need to be in bed soon. Also wow, this came out a lot longer than I expected.]

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Kate Gregson

January 2017

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