["You and I could've been good friends, you know? But right now, it is time for me to let go."
"You're a clever girl, Susan...but the sadness has poisoned you for too long. There is no coming back from it."
In the kitchen this morning, Susan's hands are unsteady as she brews her coffee. She doesn't seem to quite notice when it's ready. She's just staring at the knives in the butcher block, as if her mind is elsewhere.
Even after, she sits there drinking for a long while, long enough that the coffee goes cold. Her knuckles are white around the mug's handle.
But there's nothing to be done about it now. The person she's angry at - the things that happened - it feels like so much more than a dream, but either way none of it is real here and now. She has to keep on moving. Having apparently received a bunch of coins, she takes them all to the vending machine to deposit. You can find her kneeling on the ground amid a pile of random rubbish, either sizing up the black wedding gown or poking, hesitantly, at the animatronic miner thing.]
Why would anyone want this hunk of garbage...? And how did it fit?
[Later, she's in the infirmary, plainly taking stock of what's in there. This time, Susan doesn't try to hide it when she returns a little later with one of the little toolboxes from the storage closet and starts loading it with first-aid supplies. Simple things, really - basic medicines, bandages and a suture kit, gloves. If something happens, it's probably better to just have supplies on hand.]
no subject
"You're a clever girl, Susan...but the sadness has poisoned you for too long. There is no coming back from it."
In the kitchen this morning, Susan's hands are unsteady as she brews her coffee. She doesn't seem to quite notice when it's ready. She's just staring at the knives in the butcher block, as if her mind is elsewhere.
Even after, she sits there drinking for a long while, long enough that the coffee goes cold. Her knuckles are white around the mug's handle.
But there's nothing to be done about it now. The person she's angry at - the things that happened - it feels like so much more than a dream, but either way none of it is real here and now. She has to keep on moving. Having apparently received a bunch of coins, she takes them all to the vending machine to deposit. You can find her kneeling on the ground amid a pile of random rubbish, either sizing up the black wedding gown or poking, hesitantly, at the animatronic miner thing.]
Why would anyone want this hunk of garbage...? And how did it fit?
[Later, she's in the infirmary, plainly taking stock of what's in there. This time, Susan doesn't try to hide it when she returns a little later with one of the little toolboxes from the storage closet and starts loading it with first-aid supplies. Simple things, really - basic medicines, bandages and a suture kit, gloves. If something happens, it's probably better to just have supplies on hand.]