Willow Rosenberg (
guiltapalooza) wrote in
animus_network2012-03-15 12:00 am
Entry tags:
[004 ★ text]
You know what, I am so sick of this. Completely sick of this!! And look at me, repeating myself and using multiple exclamation points (two!) like a rebel. Because I am a rebel!
I'm tired of all these embarrassing personal incidents. When they aren't embarrassing, they're deeply horrifying and disturbing. I just want regular old test taking anxiety again! I want worrying about whether Anya is going to ask Giles if he has a new orgasm friend yet in public! And all that demon stuff, even that was familiar.
But here it's like, oh, here's that troll kid I'm friends with and he got his arm torn off. Here's me turning myself into a troll and going creepy stalker over Aradia. (Which by the way, oh Goddess am I sorry for and eternally mortified about.) Or here's me picking up the bloody scraps of the clothes of the double of someone I'm friends with!
And don't tell me I'm using too many of's there, I told you I'm a rebel today! I just want my test taking anxiety back, darn it. I'd even take worrying over when I'm going back to college, and that was a lot of worrying.
... Okay, whining done. End whining. In other news, who's still having wacky collar-induced sickness and power-tampering shenanigans? Cause frankly I'm finding this really worrying and I want to get to the bottom of this.
I'm tired of all these embarrassing personal incidents. When they aren't embarrassing, they're deeply horrifying and disturbing. I just want regular old test taking anxiety again! I want worrying about whether Anya is going to ask Giles if he has a new orgasm friend yet in public! And all that demon stuff, even that was familiar.
But here it's like, oh, here's that troll kid I'm friends with and he got his arm torn off. Here's me turning myself into a troll and going creepy stalker over Aradia. (Which by the way, oh Goddess am I sorry for and eternally mortified about.) Or here's me picking up the bloody scraps of the clothes of the double of someone I'm friends with!
And don't tell me I'm using too many of's there, I told you I'm a rebel today! I just want my test taking anxiety back, darn it. I'd even take worrying over when I'm going back to college, and that was a lot of worrying.
... Okay, whining done. End whining. In other news, who's still having wacky collar-induced sickness and power-tampering shenanigans? Cause frankly I'm finding this really worrying and I want to get to the bottom of this.

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Yours is already a bit quieter though. Now if only I could make everyone else in the tower shut up, I'd be fine.
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Oh, well... good? I try not to let the freak outs last too long. Does physical distance help at all? Maybe you could sit on the steps of that floor with the endless space around it or something.
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Is there anything else that might help?
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...Or earplugs. Earplugs might work.
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Or some kind of soundproofing, if that would really be helpful.
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And I certainly wouldn't complain if you were serious about wanting to try something like that. You're probably the one person who can actually help out with this issue in this tower anyway.
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I'll be right down?
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The door's open, actually, if you just want to come in. It's probably easier that way. [In the meanwhile, Stein's halfway between her bed and the door, more of her soul stitches tying her feet to the floor. She's just going to make herself busy by dealing with this little problem first.]
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Um. Stein...? What is that? [A wary look around the floor.]
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[Willow dutifully does as requested, kneeling on the ground to creak open the trunk. She's careful and meticulous as she locates the scalpel, not the least bit squeamish, and before long has it in hand to pass over to Stein, blunt end first.] Here you go. What are those, exactly?
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"Those" would be strands of my soul. Incredibly useful in battle for a variety of applications, incredibly annoying when I can't control them. [She pockets the scalpel instead of putting it back in the trunk. Just in case she needs it again.] Don't worry, it's not that the floor is attacking me.
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This thing is really hitting you pretty hard, huh? Those are cool, though. Nifty when they aren't sewing you to the floor.
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But thank you, I think they're pretty nifty as well. If I had my weapon with me I'd be able to do even more with it too. When she and I are resonating, we can stitch someone to themselves, using cells and tissue and the like. [Why yes, that is some serious smugness coming through her voice.]
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So how do you want to do this? Like soundproofing the room or like putting ear plugs in?
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[She settles cross-legged right there on the carpet, and pats the spot across from her.] Sit. We need to get our meditation on either way.
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But if it doesn't work, you're not allowed to blame me for my poor meditation skill. Deal?
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if you want anything to go wrong, feel free XD
awkward's pretty wrong, right?
yes but Willow's not going to realize it's awkward until afterward xD
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