RP:Gemma Who: Gemma Where: The base When: September 29, 2011 Summary: The weather has been variable and so has been Gemma's mood
Gemma was a survivor. She'd always rolled with the punches, sometimes figuratively and sometimes quite literally, although she was usually the one doing the punching, or hitting, or shooting. She had dealt with a cheating husband, with his attempted defection (and if she had to arrange his death with the help of his best friend, she couldn't be blamed), she'd dealt with the death of a son, discovery of her husband's bastard child, her son and new husband's time in jail. Oh, Gemma could make a list of things she'd survived, and she would like to say that she'd handled all of those times with grace and detachment, but the truth was that she could also be very passionate and hotheaded.
This new situation wasn't any different. Some days were better than others, there were the pros (like carrying a gun and not getting arrested or Clay not needing his injections as much) and the cons (like missing her son and grandchildren). Her moods fluctuated as well, and that didn't even take into account her menapause that was giving her hot flashes and more mood swings than when she was pregnant. Sometimes within hours of each other. The worse part?
THE FUCKING WEATHER.
It was as moody as she was. True, California didn't have four seasons, but New York seemed to have all four within days, jumping from winter to summer to spirng to fall within days. Today, it had been absolutely crazy. Everytime her mood improved the sun was out and when she wasn't happy there was wind and rain. During that fight with Clay in the afternoon, there had been hail. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her or the weather, but it'd better stop soon or who the hell knew what would happen next.