[Erika's room isn't a very decorated one. Half of it is Futayo's, so, well, uh, hmm. The personal touches to the other half are tightly contained - ornaments from New Aspen laid out in a row on the desk, pillow creatures guarding the end of the bed, Hudie-logo hoodie hanging like a flag on the wall.
She's the messiest thing in here right now, running a fever and still wearing pajamas and feeling poorly equipped to be awake. Sleep came and went and left her groggy and clumsy and bored, and left her butterflies strewn limply around the room, lying out like someone tripped and spilled them across the bed and the floor.
She's pouring her discontent into messily dissecting a Potatostation when noise arrives at the door, and putting it down and getting there is slow, achy business that etches a grouchy frown onto her face.
(Not that you can see it behind the surgical mask. Sick she may be, but a disease vector? No way.)]
two days before the dance i guess...?
She's the messiest thing in here right now, running a fever and still wearing pajamas and feeling poorly equipped to be awake. Sleep came and went and left her groggy and clumsy and bored, and left her butterflies strewn limply around the room, lying out like someone tripped and spilled them across the bed and the floor.
She's pouring her discontent into messily dissecting a Potatostation when noise arrives at the door, and putting it down and getting there is slow, achy business that etches a grouchy frown onto her face.
(Not that you can see it behind the surgical mask. Sick she may be, but a disease vector? No way.)]