fandomhighdorms | Fifth floor common room, Sunday afternoon

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Fifth floor common room, Sunday afternoon

Nadia had felt like a ghost, walking through town on her way back from visiting Bel. She didn't feel connected to Fandom, for some reason, or to the various ~~NPC~~ people she'd passed on the walk. The feeling hadn't faded when she'd gone into the dorms, either.

She stopped by her room to get a few small things to eat and check her voicemail. Damn. It seemed like there were still a lot of people worried about her.

She'd have to start talking to them, eventually, she supposed.

She plopped herself down on the common room couch, in an attempt at being normal and social, and turned on the TV.

Surprise, surprise, Bitterwoman was on.

[ooc: open to whoever, for all your common room needs.]

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Nadia winced ever so slightly. "Um, something like that, yeah."

How the hell was she supposed to explain things to people? They'd probably lock her up, or something. They probably should, when she really thought about it.

"Do you know anything about dreams?"

Angela shrugged, accepting Nadia's explanation. It sometimes seemed like nobody at the school needed to work, and, anyhow, it wasn't really her business. "At least tell him, so he quits worrying," she said.

"And not really, other than that I sometimes have some strange ones. How come?"

Nadia took a deep breath. "I've been having weird ones, too. A lot of them. You've been in them, sometimes. With Marty, but last night. . . . You were married. To someone at the school. Not Marty."

Angela rubbed her forehead. "Okay, that's weird." Especially because she didn't ecven think she would be ready to marry Marty for at least five years. If they ever got married.

If she ever saw him again, and dear god, why was she thinking about marriage when that was still a question?

"Who was I married to?" she asked.

"I don't know him, I've just seen him around. You called him John?" Nadia shook her head.

"I don't really know why I'm dreaming things, but I think, sometimes, they're true? I dreamed about Parker's mom, and a music box, and Parker knew what I was talking about even though she'd never mentioned it to me, before." She shrugged and hugged herself. "Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this."

Angela snorted as the only John she was friendly with at school came to mind. "Not Crichton. Aeryn would kill me, literally."

She gave Nadia a thoughtful look. "And I'm interested in this stuff. But that's weird. She found the music box, when we were in Delaware."

"Has Bridge Carson ever done his -" Angela wiggled her fingers "-thing, to see if you have any special powers?"

Nadia smiled slightly. "No, not Crichton. I know him, he's in my shop class." Then the smile faded. "Bridge has . . . looked at me, before. When Angel was sick, he said I was a 'chosen one'. I'm going to ask him to look again, I guess. I need to find out what's going on with me."

Before it drove her completely insane. If it, you know, hadn't already.

"I'm glad Parker found the music box. It seemed like it was important."

"He's a good guy, but..." Angela shrugged. "Not really my type. Plus, Aeryn." She thought for a moment longer. "Wait, ex-Principal Connor's kid John? I've seen him around, a little. Brown hair, about yay tall?," she gestured.

"Bridge is a good guy. He told me I was psychic, a little." She looked at Nadia out of the corner of one eye, self-conscious. "And yeah, the music box seemed to be important to her. She found some other stuff, but it's kind of her story to tell, you know? Hers or Jarod's."

Nadia nodded and shrugged. "That sounds like him. John Connor, then. Maybe it didn't mean anything. I don't know.

"And that's okay, you don't have to tell me about Parker's business. Like I said, I'm just glad she found it, that's all."

"I've never even talked to him," Angela shrugged, then wondered if maybe she should. It wasn't every day she got married to someone in a dream.

"She found out a lot of stuff. I'm not even sure I could, like, do justice to it, explaining it? If that makes sense."

"About as much sense as anything does, these days." Nadia said. "Have you heard from Marty, recently?"

That got Angela's face to light up. "He emailed me Friday," she said. "He said he was safe. Oh, and he wanted to know whether FH was turning into a petting zoo."

"But the main thing is, he's safe. Somewhere."

The phrase "petting zoo" made Nadia think of the drumming-bunny Marty in her dream.

Weirdest. Image. Ever.

"With all the animals running around, I think I'd be wondering that, too. I'm glad he's safe. Did he say when he might be coming back?"

Oh, look. The light on Angela's face is dying a little. "As soon as it is safe," she said, as if by rote. "Which -- I don't know when he thinks that will be. But he'll probably tell me when he knows, right?"

"He told me to watch out for punquins, whatever those are.," she added, as an afterthought.

"Punquins? I've never heard of them. But this is Fandom." Nadia shrugged. "And I'm sure he'll let you know as soon as he can. He knows we're worried about him."

"Mmmm," Angela said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. She wanted to believe, especially after the email, but .... it was hard.

Time to change the subject.

"So, seriously, are you okay, other than the weird dreams?"

Nadia kind of wanted to change the subject back.

"I'm . . . working on it. I've had a pretty bad week. But I'll be okay."

"You can talk to me about -- whatever, if you want to." She managed a half-smile. "Unless you think we would just make each other sadder."

Nadia thought for a moment, about what, if anything, she wanted to tell Angela. "I think it probably would. And I think we've both had enough of being sad. Thank you, though."

"You're welcome, even though I did, like, nothing," Angela said. She stretched. "Do you want to go to Caritas sometime this week?" she suggested impulsively.

Caritas. That was normal. Just her, a friend, some drinks, maybe some singing . . . yeah, she could do that. Keep it low key.

"Yeah. That sounds good."

"Good," Angela smiled, because yay, normal!. "Say Tuesday? Or Thursday. Wednesday's my birthday, but ~~my mun has a class and won't be around~~ I'm not sure what I'm doing."

"Tuesday. We'll go have fun for your birthday. Just a little bit early."

"Hooray for an early birthday," Angela said. "See you then, if not before."

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Fifth floor common room, Sunday afternoon

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