Room 218, Tuesday Night
After her conversation with Roy yesterday, Karla had been...thinking about some things. specifically, thinking about the toy she'd picked up for Dean's class, now safely vanished away where no one could see it or know she still had it. But as much as she'd been able to ignore it since buying it for her assignment, talking to Roy had reminded her it was still there, waiting in all it's unopened glory.
He had seemed surprised--almost shocked, even--when she'd admitted she hadn't used it. And she knew that several of her friends had them and enjoyed them. It wasn't something that was, uhhh, intrusive, so it couldn't count against her Virgin Night, and she couldn't deny that she was curious. She'd come a long way from the cold, disinterested, frightened fifteen year old who'd arrived at Fandom last May. Disinterest hadn't been able to withstand the Fandom pretty, fear hadn't outlasted the Fandom safety, and as for cold...well, Karla was finding out just how hot her blood could run.
She called in the box and looked at it. Gabrielle was out of the room and likely would be for awhile. She could squirrel-proof the room so it wouldn't make it to radio. She was damn curious, that was true. So what was holding her back?
Settling in, she did a brief inventory of her feelings: nervousness, embarrassment, shame. But there was nothing to be nervous, embarrassed, or ashamed about, was there? She was a Black Widow and a Healer; she worked for the goddess of love. There was no question of the rightness, the normalcy, even the healthiness of what the little butterfly represented.
Taking a deep breath, and drawing the curtains shut for privacy, Karla opened the box.
[NFI, Gabrielle modded with permission. That Karla is spending the evening in her room is fine, actual activities are NFB, please]
He had seemed surprised--almost shocked, even--when she'd admitted she hadn't used it. And she knew that several of her friends had them and enjoyed them. It wasn't something that was, uhhh, intrusive, so it couldn't count against her Virgin Night, and she couldn't deny that she was curious. She'd come a long way from the cold, disinterested, frightened fifteen year old who'd arrived at Fandom last May. Disinterest hadn't been able to withstand the Fandom pretty, fear hadn't outlasted the Fandom safety, and as for cold...well, Karla was finding out just how hot her blood could run.
She called in the box and looked at it. Gabrielle was out of the room and likely would be for awhile. She could squirrel-proof the room so it wouldn't make it to radio. She was damn curious, that was true. So what was holding her back?
Settling in, she did a brief inventory of her feelings: nervousness, embarrassment, shame. But there was nothing to be nervous, embarrassed, or ashamed about, was there? She was a Black Widow and a Healer; she worked for the goddess of love. There was no question of the rightness, the normalcy, even the healthiness of what the little butterfly represented.
Taking a deep breath, and drawing the curtains shut for privacy, Karla opened the box.
[NFI, Gabrielle modded with permission. That Karla is spending the evening in her room is fine, actual activities are NFB, please]