[For Thor] Truth Plot
Jane's verbal restraint is generally questionable on the best of days, but there is something very off about how forthcoming she's been on this particular morning. For instance, she very much doubts that she'd normally have publicly maligned the lack of chocolate pastries at the bakery quite so effusively. (The side tirade about needing to find a substitute for sex as soon as humanly possible had been especially troubling, although the upshot was that she was promised pain au chocolat for breakfast tomorrow.)
The most unsettling thing about what she'd said hadn't so much been that she'd said it in the first place (Although Jane likes to think she has a bit more impulse control than that), but rather the way in which she felt so wholly outside of herself as it happened, as if she were standing just to the side and watching helplessly as her word vomit spilled all over muffins and scones and startled bakers. Whatever filter that had existed between her brain and mouth seemed to have been removed without her being aware of it. Had she been less flustered she'd have stayed to test the theory, but as it was, her sorely underused sense of self-preservation had kicked in, sending her scrambling for a piece of banana bread and a hasty exit.
That Jane spends a large part of her time working alone is both fortunate and not, as she's avoided any further embarrassing interaction but can't keep her mind from the anomaly. Could this be one of the island's fabled phenomenon or is her psyche more strained than she'd previously believed? The only way to make a determination would be to collect more data, but the idea of what she might blurt out has kept her at home instead, trying to talk herself into doing something more productive with the rest of her day.
The most unsettling thing about what she'd said hadn't so much been that she'd said it in the first place (Although Jane likes to think she has a bit more impulse control than that), but rather the way in which she felt so wholly outside of herself as it happened, as if she were standing just to the side and watching helplessly as her word vomit spilled all over muffins and scones and startled bakers. Whatever filter that had existed between her brain and mouth seemed to have been removed without her being aware of it. Had she been less flustered she'd have stayed to test the theory, but as it was, her sorely underused sense of self-preservation had kicked in, sending her scrambling for a piece of banana bread and a hasty exit.
That Jane spends a large part of her time working alone is both fortunate and not, as she's avoided any further embarrassing interaction but can't keep her mind from the anomaly. Could this be one of the island's fabled phenomenon or is her psyche more strained than she'd previously believed? The only way to make a determination would be to collect more data, but the idea of what she might blurt out has kept her at home instead, trying to talk herself into doing something more productive with the rest of her day.