(no subject)
For all that this place often seemed to be boring, it certainly had a way of making everything happen at once. Rahne, who had on more than one occasion complained of having so little to do here, had found the past couple of weeks moving so fast that she hardly knew what to do with it. The trip she'd taken to the second island with Moira and Jamie and Ishiah was meant to be a change of pace, something as close to exciting as it was possible to get without island magic playing a part, but then there'd been the hurricane, for which she didn't think anyone was prepared. It was easy to see how that could have been the intention, to have something off-putting, a storm just on the heels of a month-long monsoon season, but it left even her just the slightest bit thrown. At least she had been minimally affected by it, in the long run, not when compared to so many others.
It left her more time to dwell on what seemed, perhaps, even stranger than the rest of it. Of course, George's asking her on a date wasn't anything remotely like a hurricane, one being a good thing and the other being not at all, but it had been a week and a half and she still was having trouble wrapping her head around it. After so long spent convinced that he wasn't interested like that - and not letting herself be, for that very reason - it seemed so out of nowhere that she didn't know quite what to make of it. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been on anything resembling a real date. If she was at all nervous for it, she absolutely wasn't going to admit to it, but it wasn't like she had any real idea of what she was doing. She just knew that it felt right, which, as it turned out, was what really mattered in the first place.
What she didn't know - didn't have the first idea about, in fact - was what she was supposed to wear. It was a stupid, stupid thing to get hung up on, but Rahne wasn't someone given to dressing up except when absolutely necessary, and to go out to dinner, she could probably do better than jeans and a t-shirt. And that meant having to deal with the clothes box. Crouched in front of the clothes box, she was already bracing herself for what horrors she was bound to find before she reached into it. Nothing, though, could have prepared her for the shirt she pulled out, with the faces of three wolves howling at the moon on it. "Oh, ye've got to be kidding me," she sighed, holding it up and staring at it, both disgusted and incredulous, too much of the latter to throw it back into the box yet. "Figures."
[Timed to Friday afternoon, all manner of tags welcome!]
It left her more time to dwell on what seemed, perhaps, even stranger than the rest of it. Of course, George's asking her on a date wasn't anything remotely like a hurricane, one being a good thing and the other being not at all, but it had been a week and a half and she still was having trouble wrapping her head around it. After so long spent convinced that he wasn't interested like that - and not letting herself be, for that very reason - it seemed so out of nowhere that she didn't know quite what to make of it. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been on anything resembling a real date. If she was at all nervous for it, she absolutely wasn't going to admit to it, but it wasn't like she had any real idea of what she was doing. She just knew that it felt right, which, as it turned out, was what really mattered in the first place.
What she didn't know - didn't have the first idea about, in fact - was what she was supposed to wear. It was a stupid, stupid thing to get hung up on, but Rahne wasn't someone given to dressing up except when absolutely necessary, and to go out to dinner, she could probably do better than jeans and a t-shirt. And that meant having to deal with the clothes box. Crouched in front of the clothes box, she was already bracing herself for what horrors she was bound to find before she reached into it. Nothing, though, could have prepared her for the shirt she pulled out, with the faces of three wolves howling at the moon on it. "Oh, ye've got to be kidding me," she sighed, holding it up and staring at it, both disgusted and incredulous, too much of the latter to throw it back into the box yet. "Figures."
[Timed to Friday afternoon, all manner of tags welcome!]