Willow Rosenberg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guiltapalooza) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
carriero_logs2012-06-17 06:32 pm
guiltapalooza) wrote in carriero_logs2012-06-17 06:32 pm
Entry tags:
02 ★ open
WHO: Willow and you!
WHAT: Failing at meditating, and then scavenging for bandages.
WHERE: The multi-faith room and the petting zoo.
WHEN: Now? Whenever.
WARNING(S): Mention of addiction recovery.
MULTI-FAITH ROOM.
As much as her meltdowns tend to be exceedingly public, Willow actually does not enjoy them being public. Her problems have been smeared all over the forefront of the Scoobies' group for the past couple years, and she's more than tired of it. So although finding herself in Carriero had left her with one, overwhelming, looming issue, she doesn't want to advertise it. Hardly anyone here even understands what magic is, much less her history with it. Willow doesn't know how to explain, and doesn't want to explain, what it means to her.
Especially because sometimes she's not sure herself.
The multi-faith room is a little Christian for her tastes, but there was obviously some kind of attempt made to be welcoming to Jews and Wiccans, of which Willow manages to be both at the same time, somehow. It's comforting enough in the way that quiet religious rooms tend to be, and it's private, at least. Her room still unnerves her a little; she really feels like a patient in there more than anywhere else, and she's not a patient.
She finds herself gravitating into the chapel, and slowly finding a seat. She gets comfortable, closes her eyes, and meditates. From the outside it looks like she's praying, probably-- but as time goes on she's not doing too well at being peaceful. She's getting frustrated, and upset. Meditation was meant to relax her, to keep her from going dark again, but she can't even go light now. Willow can feel a faint, vague sense of magic, but it's a single rain drop compared to what is usually a torrent, and every time she thinks about it, it's a thorn digging deeper into her. She feels jittery, helpless, and desperate. She feels simultaneously on the verge of tears and like she wants to suck the life force out of someone just to feel the rush.
In short, she's feeling withdrawal.
"This isn't working," she complains out loud suddenly, and gets to her feet to rush out of the room, distraught.
PETTING ZOO.
A while later, she's trying to distract herself and keep busy doing something she'd meant to do anyway: find waterproof bandages for Gamzee. This leads her eventually into the petting zoo, which might have medical supplies for the long-gone animals, right?
It's worth a try, moreso than anywhere else has been so far. Willow rummages through the closets, a bit jerky and upset still, but calming down as she keeps busy and focuses on something else. You might hear her talking to herself occasionally, and generally making a mess as she empties things out, though she does intend to clean it up afterward. The room might be a rather creepy wreck with the bones and cages everywhere, but she can't quite restrain her own inclination toward respectfulness.
WHAT: Failing at meditating, and then scavenging for bandages.
WHERE: The multi-faith room and the petting zoo.
WHEN: Now? Whenever.
WARNING(S): Mention of addiction recovery.
MULTI-FAITH ROOM.
As much as her meltdowns tend to be exceedingly public, Willow actually does not enjoy them being public. Her problems have been smeared all over the forefront of the Scoobies' group for the past couple years, and she's more than tired of it. So although finding herself in Carriero had left her with one, overwhelming, looming issue, she doesn't want to advertise it. Hardly anyone here even understands what magic is, much less her history with it. Willow doesn't know how to explain, and doesn't want to explain, what it means to her.
Especially because sometimes she's not sure herself.
The multi-faith room is a little Christian for her tastes, but there was obviously some kind of attempt made to be welcoming to Jews and Wiccans, of which Willow manages to be both at the same time, somehow. It's comforting enough in the way that quiet religious rooms tend to be, and it's private, at least. Her room still unnerves her a little; she really feels like a patient in there more than anywhere else, and she's not a patient.
She finds herself gravitating into the chapel, and slowly finding a seat. She gets comfortable, closes her eyes, and meditates. From the outside it looks like she's praying, probably-- but as time goes on she's not doing too well at being peaceful. She's getting frustrated, and upset. Meditation was meant to relax her, to keep her from going dark again, but she can't even go light now. Willow can feel a faint, vague sense of magic, but it's a single rain drop compared to what is usually a torrent, and every time she thinks about it, it's a thorn digging deeper into her. She feels jittery, helpless, and desperate. She feels simultaneously on the verge of tears and like she wants to suck the life force out of someone just to feel the rush.
In short, she's feeling withdrawal.
"This isn't working," she complains out loud suddenly, and gets to her feet to rush out of the room, distraught.
PETTING ZOO.
A while later, she's trying to distract herself and keep busy doing something she'd meant to do anyway: find waterproof bandages for Gamzee. This leads her eventually into the petting zoo, which might have medical supplies for the long-gone animals, right?
It's worth a try, moreso than anywhere else has been so far. Willow rummages through the closets, a bit jerky and upset still, but calming down as she keeps busy and focuses on something else. You might hear her talking to herself occasionally, and generally making a mess as she empties things out, though she does intend to clean it up afterward. The room might be a rather creepy wreck with the bones and cages everywhere, but she can't quite restrain her own inclination toward respectfulness.