[Vriska should have been awarded a medal for lasting as long as she did just watching Eridan build his hive. Really, could anything have been more boring? Of course she tried giving the stubbornly stupid seatroll some helpful pointers on how to build, but he preferred being stupid and ignorant to her beautiful and amazing carpentry genius.

It was just as well. She grew bored of being ignored watching and so she left him. How someone with a cast on their ankle and no crutches could get away and not be noticed is anyone's guess, but Vriska managed well.

So now she was in Sector 2 - specifically the pet cafe. Back home Vriska never put herself around many cute and fuzzy beasts, there wasn't much point. That was Nepeta's area of interest, not hers. Yet here she was and surrounded by cute fuzzy furbeasts. Vriska took a seat on a nearby bench, her ankle flaring up from her walking. She'd never admit it but it wasn't so bad in here. It was quiet and while she was alone she didn't feel alone and that was...

A fuzzy beast began to rub up against her good leg. She stared down at the offending cat not really feeling up to pushing it away just yet. A few minutes of silence broken by soft purrs coming from her leg past before the huge spiderbitch looked away and reached a hand down to hesitantly pet the cat's head with an index finger. Oh man what the everloving fucking Hell was this.]

( Ramble under here. )

[Naoya, walking unsteadily with alcohol on his breath, wanders down to the beach, carrying a bag with him. He sits down, and starts digging a hole in the sand. He pulls out some branches he collected from the park and sticks them in there, and then pulls out some books from his bag.]

[They're bibles, and there's three of them, covered in notes. He starts ripping out the pages and tossing them in the pit he's building, before pulling out a rock and a dull kitchen knife. He strikes the rock with the knife, trying to make a spark, and finally manages it, setting the paper aflame.]

[He sits back and watches the words burn, before curling up in the sand next to the pit.]

[Ashura was fairly certain that no one had missed Wolfram's outspokenness about Conrad's condition over the communicators, and Ashura could tell what was going to come after - more than likely a bought of rage taken out on inanimate objects and then a bought of depression for his lack of thought for the things he had said in that emotional moment.

But he did not go to see him right away. Instead he let him cool off and rose early the next morning. He dressed and headed out, going to Wolfram's home and with perfect confidence rapped on the door.]

[ Hermione has never been great with stress, and it shows. The exam-period look about her has only been exacerbated with the artificial sun and pens and mini-Harry and his tiny, green voice. Hermione is tired, but her eyes are still glaring determination. Though, they'd be glaring anyway. Hermione has never been great with stress, and it shows.

So she's retreated, as will be visible, to the greatest sanctuary Marina has to offer her: the library. Added bonus, she won't have the nerve to snap at people in it. ]

I don't know if this little event serves as a distraction or a compensation for yesterday. [ her pen fits neatly in the indent of her bottom lip, and she's less scornful. ] Valentines day. Honestly.

Oh, Edgeworth. I hope your chat went better than mine. [ With that, the feed blacks out. She slots her forehead back in to her hand and goes back to writing ]