Room 302 [Monday afternoon]

[pasunereveuse]

It was miserable to be angry and upset and heartbroken, under totally normal circumstances. It was even more miserable, somehow, to be angry and upset and heartbroken when school was out for break. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Celia had found the incriminating letter in Ichabod's room the very day before she was to take her last exam, and

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[not_a_moonie]

Alana had gotten some vague sense things were Not Right with Celia, but her own post-possession fog was still thick enough that she wasn't dwelling on other people's feelings.

Tonight, she padded into the room barefoot, with hair still damp from the shower, and frowned at the flickering light bulb in consternation. She might not be particularly skilled at dealing with emotions -- her own or anyone else's -- but a burnt-out light bulb was the kind of problem that was just about Alana's speed.

"Should I go figure out where they keep the spares before that thing goes out?" she asked.

[OOC: SP from me too!]

[pasunereveuse]

Celia glanced up, just noticing the flickering for the first time. (Again, possibly a strong indication of her mental state, all things considered.) "Oh, um. No, I think that's my fault," she admitted softly, taking a deep breath and focusing on calming herself until the light steadied. "...though it's not a bad idea to know where the spares are. I don't have the foggiest idea how to go about replacing it, though."

Simple problems were a wonderful distraction for everyone, it turned out.

[not_a_moonie]

Alana watched the bulb stop flickering, a faint smile crossing her face as she did. No matter how often it happened, it was always interesting to see Celia use magic.

"Well, um, thanks. And in case you ever need to know? It's easy to fix. You just unscrew the bulb and screw a fresh one back in," she explained, with a hand gesture she realized looked a little dirty as soon as it was made. "I'll show you sometime. Finding the extra's probably going to be a hard part."

She sat down on her bed, frowning briefly. "Why are you making lights flicker, anyhow?"

[pasunereveuse]

You know what were even better than simple problems? Dirty hand gestures, and Celia actually stifled a giggle for the first time in days.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, nodding, before her smile faded a little. "And I'm not doing it on purpose, sorry -- it's a magic thing. If I'm angry or upset or anything, my magic interferes with the air around me and does things like break glass or flicker lights."

And really, this was progress, considering the broken teacups.

"But how are you doing?" she asked, eager to not go into why she was upset, if she could avoid it. "A couple weeks away from ghostiness, and all."

[nobloodymessiah]

Eleanor wasn't entirely sure what one did, with the back half of December. Should she go to see Grace and Louise, out in St. Louis? Travel home with Joker to meet his family? Stay here, in the dorms? Other times of the year, the gap between semesters seemed far shorter.

Perhaps Celia might have some advice. She hesitated before knocking on the door.

(rocking a cold, so much SP up in herrre)

[pasunereveuse]

Under normal circumstances, Celia would have just called for whoever it was to come in without looking up from her book. But, these were not normal circumstances, and if it was Ichabod, she should like the opportunity to shut the door in his face, just now, and thus glanced up to check, first.

Perhaps it was for the best that it wasn't actually Ichabod.

Celia offered Eleanor a tired smile when she saw who it was, and beckoned her in. "Afternoon, Eleanor. How're you?" she asked, eager to focus on her friend over really anything else in her own life, just now.

[nobloodymessiah]

"I'm ... well, I suppose," Eleanor said, hesitantly. "But you aren't."

Eleanor was still terrible at other people, but this was fairly obvious, from the way she couldn't quite make her smile into something convincing.

"What happened?" she asked, all thoughts of her own troubles disappearing.

[pasunereveuse]

And for a moment, Celia was tempted to say that nothing was wrong, that everything was fine, and what did Eleanor even mean, because obviously she was all right.

But it was exhausting to act like she was fine all the time, when she very much wasn't, and she'd already spent the weekend mending porcelain and trying to keep lightbulbs from shattering. If there was anyone she could confess to -- anyone with whom she could unburden herself -- it was Eleanor.

Celia glanced at the door, and it swung shut. As soon as she heard the lock click, she spoke.

"Ichabod's engaged."

And somehow, saying it aloud to Eleanor made it real, in a way that commiserating with Alana hadn't quite -- it had still felt like a joke, like gossip about boys, when the truth was that it was so painful that Celia felt as though her heart was breaking anew with every breath. She dropped her face into her hands, feeling the tears coming before she could stop them.