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not a rookie

May 2011



In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game [info]fandomhigh, for the sole purpose of entertainment, without intending to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud either the person who created the fictional person, or any reader of this content. The author does not purport to be the creator of the fictional person, or to be affiliated with the creator, or with any person or entity with an interest in the fictional person. The author does not claim to be the person who is being used as the graphical representation of that fictional person, nor intend to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud that person by use of their image.

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May. 31st, 2011

chin thoughtful sweater

Elena's Apartment, Junon, Tuesday Evening (NFB)

Elena had the night off. Which was a rarity, especially now that they were down to two Turks, but maybe Tseng was finally learning to let go. Or maybe catching up on the paperwork and getting Tseng back into the field was putting things back to rights. Or maybe the boss was sweet on her and had let her take the night off, to play with her cat and curl up on her couch.

Her phone was nearby, in case anybody wanted to call. And if not, she was going to cuddle Rookie and savor having the night to herself.

Jan. 31st, 2011

listening smiling coat

Elena's Apartment, Junon, Not Edge, Monday Night (NFB)

Okay, there had been some bumps -- huge understatement, that -- but the move to Junon had happened, and Elena, for one, could not be happier about it.

Her apartment had actual, real water pressure. There was fresh fruit at the grocer's. And it was a company town, which meant fewer eyes caught on the suit with any real objection.

Elena was sprawled out on her bed with a book. Okay, so maybe it was a history of Wutaian culture. It wasn't stalkerish if you were actually dating the guy in question, was it?

(open for calls / texts!)

Dec. 28th, 2010

happy content glow

Tseng's Apartment, No, Really, Edge

It was never going to be normal, those mornings when Elena woke up at Tseng's apartment instead of her own. But there were perks. Like the fact that he made much better coffee than she did. Or how much nicer the water pressure was, in his shower.

It meant they got into the office a little later than his usual -- that being dawn if not before -- but maybe Tseng was finally realizing that the world wasn't going to end if he slept in every now and then. Stranger things had happened.

Elena was brushing her teeth and wondering, idly, where her tie was.

(for TWO Turks -- one who lives here, and one who is going to drop in for a visit and might be scarred for life. Which amuses me, muahahahaha.)

Oct. 27th, 2010

listening smiling coat

Elena's Apartment, Edge, Wednesday Night Fandom Time (NFB-distance)

Elena was having a good week, thank you very much. The dance had been great, although she was worried that Rose hadn't gotten back to her about tying up loose ends in Russia. And her sister had worn a gorgeous orange dress. That was nothing short of astonishing.

Plus she'd been out late last night for her birthday, thanks to a certain Wutaian gentleman who'd made time inbetween finishing up paperwork for the big move. Which should be soon, now, which was yet another reason the week was going so well.

Now seemed like a good time to curl up on her couch, with Rookie, and make some phone calls. Especially since she'd missed a birthday message from her sister, last night. She should start there.

(if you think Elena would call, she probably did!)

Oct. 3rd, 2010

art thoughtful turn

Arms Hotel, Outside Room 412, Before Dawn Sunday Morning

Elena couldn't sleep. It was late, and then it was later, and then it was early, and she still couldn't sleep. She kept catching it in bits, but it wouldn't stick around. Maybe it knew her too well and was running for it.

The weekend had gone pretty well. It wasn't that. Maybe it was? Maybe she was holding her breath waiting for it to go badly. Maybe it was seeing younger-her again. She wanted to keep that Elena safe. Not let her grow up without a sister. The one whose death was all her fault, anyway, and that's when the guilt strains of her thought cycle kicked around again. Add that to worrying about Rose because of Dimitri (not dead, just evil, how fucking wrong could life be, that you might have to take out your SO for his own sake?) and the ache she got from seeing Rosalind again and wondering if Rosalind still disapproved and ... yeah. Sleep wasn't going to happen.

Rude was at Reno's, but Tseng was in the hotel, and Tseng was -- sort of maybe dating her, kinda? They had held hands a couple of times? She wasn't any good at this. But if he was, then that meant she got to bother him at times like this. Didn't it?

She knocked on the door to room 412, several panicky thought still flying around her head. Added to the list: what if this was the wrong Tseng? He'd get entirely the wrong idea and that would be mortifying. And what if Tseng had actually managed to sleep, for once in his life, and she was interrupting?

(for one. the tseng that is not the wrong tseng.)

Sep. 15th, 2010

impressed despite myself

Streets of Edge, Wednesday Night (NFB-Distance)

Elena wasn't nervous. Actually, that was the weird part. She wasn't.

She had left work, showered, and changed into a dress that felt like it was appropriate, but not Trying Too Hard. And then, she and Tseng had gone to dinner, at one of the few nice restaurants Edge had.

Okay, 'nice' was subjective, but it had good food and passable atmosphere, and that made it better than most places in Edge right there.

And they had talked. About everything, about nothing, and she had just ... relaxed and enjoyed the evening.

And now, he was walking her home. She reached down to brush her hand against his while they walked. Just a suggestion.

"I bet you twenty gil that once you drop me off, you're going right back to the office," she teased.

Sep. 12th, 2010

old school

Tseng's Office, Edge, Sunday Midday (NFB-Distance)

Elena was screwing up her courage and standing in front of Tseng's door. Okay. She could do this. She was awesome, and she was a Turk, and that meant she could bitch out her boss. When he was being ridiculously stubborn about something. And, well, he was.

So she'd gone behind his back and made arrangements, because he was never going to, and now it was just a matter of confronting him, and winning.

The last part was going to be hard. Mrs. Sheffield was currently engaged in a land war with him, herself. Tseng did not admit defeat easily. Or ever.

She had a file folder in her hands, and it had all the necessary details. Junon. Seriously. Because they needed to get the hell out of Edge, and that came first.

Even before ... er ... figuring out if they were actually possibly dating or not.

One thing at a time. She rapped on Tseng's door and sucked in one last breath.

Aug. 26th, 2010

be free

The Causeway, Thursday Evening

It had been a long year. Elena had come here with little more than the idea of getting away from it all for a short time, and had found pieces of herself she hadn't known she was missing.

She'd found the sky. She'd found friends. She'd found an older sister, now three years her junior, and she promised herself that this time, things would be different.

And she'd found Rookie, now asleep in her cat carrier.

Elena had said her good-byes last night, at Karla's slumber party, and an especially tearful one this afternoon, to Rosalind. Rose was already gone. Reno knew where to find her. Rude was waiting. So was Tseng.

So Elena took one last look before lifting up her luggage, memorizing the sky, and stepping off the Causeway.

(Elena's gone with this post -- somehow, she resisted the idea of a good-bye post, so this is it. She'll be an alum. Broadcast is fine, and OOC is love.)

Aug. 21st, 2010


Outside Tseng's Office, Saturday Midday, Edge (NFB-distance)

Elena wasn't nervous. Seriously.

There were about nine hundred reasons why she should be nervous. For one, she hadn't told Tseng she was coming here. For two, she had this really distressing tendency to turn into a kitten lately, like, twice in the past month, and what if that happened right while she was talking to Tseng? She would never live that down. Ever.

Three, she hadn't told him about the other guest, and Tseng didn't like surprises. Four, he still wasn't talking to Reno, and Reno wasn't talking to him, and now she got to navigate that particular landmine. And five, she had to give him an update he might not like at all. He might try to talk her out of it. He might try to stop her. And that would ...

"At-hmmmmm," huffed the woman next to her.

Fine. That could be six: the fact that the other guest was really fucking aggravating when you took more than three seconds to get your thoughts together and knock on someone's door, like, hello, lady, you're not on the clock yet.

(for the boss-man. NFB-distance. Elena handwavily un-kittied yesterday. Woo, back!)

Aug. 5th, 2010

gun pose waiting

Zagnut A3, Thursday Evening

Elena was on edge. She wasn't psychic in the least, but she knew everyone else was on edge, and people kept disappearing. Places, too.

So Elena had gotten her gun and one slim knife out from the weapons locker. She was still a Turk, and tonight? Tonight, she was going to patrol. It was what Turks did.

(Just for the big-little sibling, as Elena's plans are about to go to hell. Again, I'm going to be AFK starting midday tomorrow, so my pups will be out for the BDE. Booo.)

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