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Elisabeth Braddock (locked_on) wrote in academy_x, @ 2010-04-05 01:11:00

Who: Betsy, OTA
When: Sunday night
Where: By the pool
What: The crowded club had left Betsy with a headache that still lingered the following day. Maybe reading outside away from where most of the people were would help? Not like she needed light to read in the dark anyway.


The night before had gone well enough, at least from what Betsy could tell. She was not horrified by the fact that not one, but two of their teachers had shown up at the club, mostly because Betsy was still oblivious as to what the auras of Emma Frost and Raven Darkholme felt like. She would probably learn soon enough- and then the next time something similar happened have a panic attack- but today she was focused more on the headache that had resulted from being surrounded by so many emotions and thoughts at one time.

Apparently long term exposure to large crowds meant long term headaches. Betsy almost wished she had more to drink than she had- at least then she would be able to blame the headache on the alcohol and not her own stubbornness.

Not to mention, a hangover would have been better than this.

So, here she was, sitting in the dark about as far away as she dared to stray from the school she was still a bit unfamiliar with- the only reason she dared to even go this far was thanks to that sweetheart, Sam, who had shown her around pretty much the entire campus at the expense of his voice- and holding a book.

Reading in the dark.

To anyone else this would be odd... but when it's always dark, day and night make little difference. And her brothers had apparently assumed Betsy had not taken enough of her stuff with her and sent a huge package filled with braille books and some more clothes- much to Betsy's embarrassment, as she did not want to clutter her room with unnecessary items when Rahne had been trying so hard to keep it clean and organized for her.

But running her fingers across the page was very soothing, and the distance from the school was relieving her headache. She had already been out her about an hour and found that the lack of noise had reduced the pounding to a mere agitation that could be ignored if Betsy focused on something else, namely her book. Another hour would probably cure her entirely and then she could stop being a recluse and return to her room, if she didn't find something else to occupy her time, that is.