>>I am wide awake [Open]
Who; zerosuitjill and open to anyone passing by
What; Christmas decorating. Some post-Wesker angst moodiness.
Where; Residential area, outside her place.
When; Friday, December 23rd
Rating; Starting with G, may go up.
Status; Open; ongoing
Jill wasn't sure if the onset of snowfall was more comforting or unnerving. It was another small semblance of normalcy, but the fact that it was falling in a cave just served to remind her of how well-constructed and controlled everything here was. Every time she thought she might have gotten used to the idea, something else popped up to prove her wrong.
Standing on the walkway in front of her apartment, shielded from the snow by the overhang, she stripped open the package she'd purchased earlier that morning: a box of Christmas lights. A little late, maybe even a little pointless, but it couldn't hurt to do something for the holiday; it'd been too long since she properly celebrated it, anyway. Jill leaned against the railing as she worked, a cup of coffee balanced beside her and her motions partly automatic as she stared distractedly along the street, lost in thought.
Wesker was gone. It was as simple as that. There and gone, just like last time -- not exactly like last time, but close enough -- and that said, it was time to move on with her life and sweep her anger and her memories under the rug like always.
Easier said than done.
She'd have thought it became easier with time, not harder, but either Wesker was a particular sore spot of hers or Jill just didn't play the "jaded" role very well. Whatever the case, here she was, still lingering and a little bitter over the fact that nothing had changed, after all. Some things, yes -- her freedom, her place, the aftereffects -- but between her and Wesker personally? It was the same. She was the same, and he'd known it, exploited it, torn into her sensitive areas and ripped out what few insecurities she possessed -- just as he always had and always would. The fact that he still could, that she'd let him, irritated her more than it probably should have.
But life went on. It was almost Christmas and she'd at least put lights outside her apartment -- and with a neutral face, at that.
What; Christmas decorating. Some post-Wesker angst moodiness.
Where; Residential area, outside her place.
When; Friday, December 23rd
Rating; Starting with G, may go up.
Status; Open; ongoing
Jill wasn't sure if the onset of snowfall was more comforting or unnerving. It was another small semblance of normalcy, but the fact that it was falling in a cave just served to remind her of how well-constructed and controlled everything here was. Every time she thought she might have gotten used to the idea, something else popped up to prove her wrong.
Standing on the walkway in front of her apartment, shielded from the snow by the overhang, she stripped open the package she'd purchased earlier that morning: a box of Christmas lights. A little late, maybe even a little pointless, but it couldn't hurt to do something for the holiday; it'd been too long since she properly celebrated it, anyway. Jill leaned against the railing as she worked, a cup of coffee balanced beside her and her motions partly automatic as she stared distractedly along the street, lost in thought.
Wesker was gone. It was as simple as that. There and gone, just like last time -- not exactly like last time, but close enough -- and that said, it was time to move on with her life and sweep her anger and her memories under the rug like always.
Easier said than done.
She'd have thought it became easier with time, not harder, but either Wesker was a particular sore spot of hers or Jill just didn't play the "jaded" role very well. Whatever the case, here she was, still lingering and a little bitter over the fact that nothing had changed, after all. Some things, yes -- her freedom, her place, the aftereffects -- but between her and Wesker personally? It was the same. She was the same, and he'd known it, exploited it, torn into her sensitive areas and ripped out what few insecurities she possessed -- just as he always had and always would. The fact that he still could, that she'd let him, irritated her more than it probably should have.
But life went on. It was almost Christmas and she'd at least put lights outside her apartment -- and with a neutral face, at that.