fandomhigh | Lunch - Wednesday 5/30

Annette got seled and a s'mure and sat down at the furthest away from everyone table she could find. You'd think she was feeling better by noon, but she wasn't. She wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there.

Unfortunately she was hungry.

Henry approached Annette carefully. He was sure he'd sat down once before when she wanted to be left alone, and he was taking no chances on being impolite today.
"Hullo, Annette."

Oh no. Wait. She recognized that voice. Peering up slowly, she blinked and said a small, "Hello." There was always the slim possibility that he didn't listen to the radio.

Henry's radio batteries had, in fact, gone dead. He had no idea what was wrong with it, and thus also had no idea what was wrong with Annette. He'd been fully out of the loop for the last few days. "Do you mind if I sit here, or did yuo wish to be alone?"

"No, please," she said softly. "I would like you to sit here. I haven't visited with you in some time." So far, so good. If he was willing to sit with her then obviously he hadn't heard the radio.

Annette was assuming anyone who had heard it, would hate her.

Henry did howeve note that something was wrong. He set down his tray and sat in the seat next to Annette, a little worried.
"You don't look well," he began, sticking his foot in his mouth right at the start. "Ah! What I mean is that your mood seems somewhat lacking, not that you personally don't look lovely- of course, with that, I'm not attempting-" he stopped and took a breath. The poor girl was downcast, and Henry would not be any help to her if he continued to trip over his words like that.
"Would you like to talk about what is bothering you? Or would you rather discuss something else?"

Uh-oh. It would only take one person being nice to her to make the tears flow. She didn't even notice Henry tripping over his words, she just noticed his being kind in concern for her.

Looking down at her food, she blinked rapidly and sniffed, and murmured, "I got kicked yesterday." That certainly wasn't all, but it was a start.

Henry saw the oncoming signs of tears. "Kicked?" He looked shocked, and even a little angry. "Why would anyone choose to kick you?"

Annette swiped at a lone tear, "They hate me. They hate me really really bad and I don't know why. I was just standing there, smiling, and next thing I knew I was getting kicked in the shin. It's ugly."

Henry couldn't understand how someone could hate Annette.
Deep in his conscious, Edward gave a loud cough.
Henry couldn't understand how someone who wasn't pure evil could hate Annette.
He gave the problem a try, anyway. "Perhaps it's just one of Fandom's oddities," he attempted to console, "people tend to act weirdly, we've both experienced similar circumstances. I'm sure that they don't really hate you. It must be circumstantial."

She looked at him and blinked, "But...three times circumstantial? And...and...there were things said about me, by this person, for everyone...to hear...it's disgraceful. I can't show my face around here. People will laugh at me. They probably already are laughing at me."

Henry shook his head. "If it happened more often, I think that it's greater proof that something strange was afoot. I've been keeping track. Events tend to change masses of people for short periods of time. As a matter of fact, if this occurred yesterday, there's a high probability that it's over by now." Henry's logic was sound, but in his rush to help Annette, he'd completely overlooked the most likely reasoning: that Annette had done something odd.

And Annette was very thankful that he had overlooked that reasoning. She would hate to have to explain why she was kicked. Even though she was kicked for not a very good reason at all. In her opinion.

"I hope you are right, Henry. This is not your normal shin kicker type of person. I would hate to be kicked again. I'll probably die next time." She was a little dramatic, but she was over emotional here.

Henry knew that it was a figure of speech, and chalked it up to acute hysteria (blame his Victorian roots for the slightly sexist diagnosis!). "Well, I'm sure that they'll feel terrible about what they did, and the important thing to remember is that if it was a Fandom Oddity, you'll have to forgive them. No one can be held completely responsible for their actions, here. Sometimes it's outside of our own control. Yet, friendships are strong enough here that people can eventually look past these kinds of things, no matter how terrible they seem at the time."

Annette was shaking her head. She'd be delusional if she ever thought that Turtle was going to be her friend. It wasn't a Fandom Oddity. Turtle liked kicking people. She wasn't the only one.

"I wish I could believe you, Henry. Sadly though, I think this is something that is just never going to go away or get better. Maybe I should dye my hair and pierce my nose. Hide myself as best I can."

"It isn't possible to make amends? It would be very sad to allow one bad day to ruin your social life." He grimaces. "And it would be awful for you to allow one bad day to ruin your appearance, as well." He gave her an encouraging look. "You're a very brave person." Brave enough to throw objects at Edward. "Someone I wouldn't expect to just back down."

She blinked at Henry. He was right, of course. She wasn't one to just back down and she knew there was no way he could know about her plan this evening with John. Annette planned on getting even.

Still, she wasn't feeling very good about herself now.

"It isn't possible, Henry. She's made herself clear to me on several different occassions just how she feels about me. She hates me. And I have to learn to live with that."

Henry nodded. "That does change things, but only for that one person. If you are content to live with mutual coldness, then it sometimes must be done. I won't lie and say that there aren't a few people home in London with whom I wouldn't mind having a good solid row." He had a bit of a glare on his face, thinking of Simon Stride. "I will never consent to be his friend, and the sentiment is very much returned. However, you cannot allow this to rend apart your real friendships. One person is understandable. Giving up on everyone is not by any means."

Annette raised her brow at that glare on his face, wondering just who he was thinking of, not that she would know them. But she would hate to be on the recieving end of such a look.

Of course, she could glare pretty good herself.

"I'm not giving up on everyone," she didn't think. "I just thought it would be best if I...showed a lot less of myself today." Because she was a chicken.

He could understand that. "As long as you aren't going to make a habit of it. I've little of you lately as it is. Should you make yourself even less available, I fear you'd disappear completely." He gave her a small smile and took a sip of his milk.

She smiled and looked down again, feeling almost silly now for wanting to hide away. But of course the moment he was gone and lunch was over, she knew all those feelings of being belittled at the mouth of Turtle, would come creeping back.

"You're very kind, Henry. I hope you know that."

Henry shook his head. "No more than anyone else. The only difference is that I make an effort to be so." He looked at her, trying to tell if she'd be all right. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm trying," she said honestly. "It's hard just to push away things that people say sometimes but I'm trying." She didn't want to admit that she possibly hurt people too, yesterday, by her actions. Of course she was just loving, but still, she was forceful in her wanting people to love her. And she wasn't herself. She wasn't sure how it happened, but she wasn't herself yesterday.

If she told Henry, he would've completely understanded what it was like to wake up and find that you aren't yourself.
He'd understand it very well.
"If you ever need to talk again, I'd be more than happy to help you in any way that I can."

She smiled, looking at him, "Thank you, Henry. You have made me feel better. And I'll remember what you have said."

Henry gave her an assuring smile back. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me-" he picked up his tray and got up- "I ought to get to practice. I would wish you a good day, but I'm sure that it will be looking up soon, so I won't bother." His smile was a bit cheerier now. If you couldn't hope for the best, where would it leave you? "Good afternoon, Annette."

Lunch - Wednesday 5/30

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject