Room 506, Saturday Afternoon
Ringo had never been great at dealing with her emotions at the best of times. Before Fandom she'd mostly just suppressed them, so she hadn't had a lot of practice. The nightmares that had been waking her up in the middle of the night hadn't done much for her mood, and whatever it was that had happened yesterday had pretty much shredded what control she had left.
So as the day had worn on, with emotions that she didn't think were hers kept washing over her, overwhelming her ability to cope, Ringo had began to fall back onto old habits. Fandom had been good to her, so she hadn't really had much cause to practice suppression over the past half a year, and that meant that those old skills surfaced slowly. Part of that was how long it had been, but part of it was because Ringo had been fighting it. After all, those skills were more Crazy Apple's than hers, and she was still scared of that other her other persona. Even more scared than usual with the reminder from yesterday.
Sometime after lunch, though, she gave in. The emotions pulling her this way and that were too much as she swung from crying to shivering and back again.
So the girl who threw off the covers and climbed out of Ringo's bed looked like Ringo, but something was off. The graceful movements as she walked to the closet were right, but there wasn't any bounce to them. Flat, controlled, and perfectly efficient. A large metal briefcase was extracted from the back of the closet and then set on the desk. A long series of numbers was punched into the keypad, causing a red light to begin blinking. "Designation Crazy Apple," Ringo's voice intoned calmly at the prompt. The light turned green and the case clicked open. "It's been a while," she murmured, a smile touching her lips as she gently extracted a pair of ATs that hadn't seen the light of day since that case had gone into the back of the closet the day Ringo moved in.
She sat on the bed to put on the elaborately-designed ATs, then she stood up. She shifted her weight back and forth, feeling out the bruises and little cuts she'd picked up walking back to the dorms last night in just a pair of socks and adjusting her stance to compensate.
There. She nodded to herself firmly and headed for the door. She'd left a pair of AirTrek somewhere out on the streets last night, and needed to go pick them up. There was an easy smile on her lips, but it didn't touch her eyes.
Welcome to Fandom, Crazy Apple, Queen of the Thorn Road.
[ooc: Open if anyone wants to run into Ringo's much crueler persona.]
So as the day had worn on, with emotions that she didn't think were hers kept washing over her, overwhelming her ability to cope, Ringo had began to fall back onto old habits. Fandom had been good to her, so she hadn't really had much cause to practice suppression over the past half a year, and that meant that those old skills surfaced slowly. Part of that was how long it had been, but part of it was because Ringo had been fighting it. After all, those skills were more Crazy Apple's than hers, and she was still scared of that other her other persona. Even more scared than usual with the reminder from yesterday.
Sometime after lunch, though, she gave in. The emotions pulling her this way and that were too much as she swung from crying to shivering and back again.
So the girl who threw off the covers and climbed out of Ringo's bed looked like Ringo, but something was off. The graceful movements as she walked to the closet were right, but there wasn't any bounce to them. Flat, controlled, and perfectly efficient. A large metal briefcase was extracted from the back of the closet and then set on the desk. A long series of numbers was punched into the keypad, causing a red light to begin blinking. "Designation Crazy Apple," Ringo's voice intoned calmly at the prompt. The light turned green and the case clicked open. "It's been a while," she murmured, a smile touching her lips as she gently extracted a pair of ATs that hadn't seen the light of day since that case had gone into the back of the closet the day Ringo moved in.
She sat on the bed to put on the elaborately-designed ATs, then she stood up. She shifted her weight back and forth, feeling out the bruises and little cuts she'd picked up walking back to the dorms last night in just a pair of socks and adjusting her stance to compensate.
There. She nodded to herself firmly and headed for the door. She'd left a pair of AirTrek somewhere out on the streets last night, and needed to go pick them up. There was an easy smile on her lips, but it didn't touch her eyes.
Welcome to Fandom, Crazy Apple, Queen of the Thorn Road.
[ooc: Open if anyone wants to run into Ringo's much crueler persona.]