After several days of increasingly less subtle hints from the squirrels (which given their general lack of subtly to begin with...), various checks of the calendar, and what was definitely not any kind of panic attack, Cara had made plans for the evening. Very good, not overly complex plans.

However she had failed to account for the fact the island hated her. Personally.

"Seriously?"

[For the girl!]

The advantage of having your own place was that you could ensure the morning sun never got in your eyes, but that didn't stop Cara from pulling the blankets over her head when the room got far too bright, far too early.

"Make it go away," she whined, ever the height of maturity.

[For the girl.]

Cara was not having a good day. Yesterday had been...unpleasant, the incident at the Onsen being followed by fleeting, yet vivid apparitions of things she'd done, things done to her, and more appearances of that other version of herself, ready with a cutting comment, a quick fist, or a quicker agiel, the embodiment of an ideal Mord'Sith. Of course, that wasn't the worst of it, it wasn't like she hadn't learnt to endure either physical or verbal blows long before. The other other her, the nine year old who who didn't say a word but just stood there looking at her, that she'd had little defence against.

Then she'd woken up, and, well, given she'd spent years beating down and repressing every single scrap of her natural inclinations towards empathy and compassion as a survival tactic, it wasn't entirely a surprise that she'd ended up pressed defensively in a corner, back to the wall, hands against her temples in a futile attempt to keep some, any of it out.

The thing about not being able to cook bake worth a damn, was that when you got a craving for the nutcakes your girlfriend liked and there weren't any left, you had to go out and buy them. Naturally, there'd also been a sudden glut of customers, so she'd had to wait even longer, since she wasn't allowed to scare them off if she wanted to actually get served.

Still, she'd gotten what she'd gone out for, and now Cara was triumphantly closing the apartment door behind her, content in the knowledge she likely wouldn't have to deal with any more idiots in the near future.

[For she who knows who she is]

Chaperoning that dance last night had been a waste of her time in Cara's opinion, but given she hadn't been expected to do anything but watch, she was willing to concede it hadn't been entirely terrible. Now, having spend the day without any unwelcome interruptions, she sat sprawled out on the couch, flicking idly thorough take-out menus.

[For she that knows who she is]

Cara had had no interest in going on the camping trip, because frankly, choosing to go out into the wilderness without any of the luxuries they had in this place for fun was mad. Richard would probably love the idea.

Still, she could appreciate the impulse to get off the island, and when Surreal had shown up unexpectedly, she'd wasted very little time dragging her off deciding they needed to go on a trip of their own. Only she'd picked somewhere with running water, and beds, and electricity, and walls.

She looked around the rooms they'd gotten. "The view's pretty." Someone was never going to make it as a hotel critic.

[For she who is with her.]

Of all of Cara's favourite days of the year, today was most definitively not one of them, even without the added joy of sneezing every few minutes while wanting to all but tear her skin off.

Thankfully, with the power back on, she'd been able to take an extremely cold shower without worrying about freezing to death afterwards. Not that the icy spray had done much to soothe the heat and twitchiness under her skin, but at least it'd damped down the air enough that she hadn't sneezed in a full quarter hour.

Then she'd opened her door to find flowers outside it.

The yellow ones had gone out onto the balcony where they couldn't harm anyone in the time it'd taken to read the attached note, the roses on the other hand...

Letting out a (metaphorical) breath she wasn't sure hole long she'd been holding, Cara stomped into the kitchen to find a jug large enough to hold them, stomped over to the sink to fill it, then, glaring, carefully placed the flowers in it and put the whole thing down on the bench, before retreating over to the couch, the card still in her hands.

She was sneezing again. Well, it'd been nice while it lasted.

[Establishy, unless you have a reason to poke the grumpy. Not dirty.]

It had taken most of the afternoon, but Cara was finally glitter-free, and her likewise glitter-free leathers were carefully hung away.

After wrestling with the fastening on her dress (which had taken the non-glitter-removing part of her afternoon to find), and rescuing her hair after it got caught in the fastening, she sat down at the table to wait. Immediately she started drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

Within five minutes she was up and pacing, occasionally readjusting her cleavage.

So really, it was like any other random evening of hers. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Nothing.

[For the girl.]

Cara bustled around the kitchen, the part of her that was still just a wide-eyed, innocent country girl marvelling at the all the best modern appliances that money (passed over and accepted with no questions) could buy.

Putting the finishing touches on supper, she brought the plates over to the table, where various maps and blueprints were rolled out, held down at various corners with violin cases and lock-picks. This mightn't have been exactly the big city dream she'd back in Stowecroft, but it was the one she had now.

[For the partner in crime.]

It hadn't been a complete waste of her time, but Cara had been glad to leave the picnic behind her, in favour of actually going to the apartment she'd be staying in the next few months.

Which was on the top floor of the building.

Admittedly there were still less stairs than in the average Mord'Sith temple, and one of those elevator contraptions, but this is what happened when you didn't specify details when renting a place, Cara.

After absolutely no fumbling with the keys, she pushed the door open. "It's bigger than I expected."

[For the girl.]