one | text/video ( backdated to august 4th ) | open to both courts

[mdma]

text;

ok so
fuck. wait.

[the text function switches over to video, which takes a bit longer than expected, because effy has never touched something so high-tech. she learns quickly, though, and doesn't have any trouble fixing up the feed so it shows her face. her face, thin and dusted with freckles and a button of a nose, is unimpressed. in fact, there's hardly much emotion showing besides a small twitch of her brow when she speaks up. around her, it is quiet. her voice is soft with a hint of a rasp. she is smoking.]

Right then. Don't really know where I am, but I don't think I'm awake. You know, how in dreams, it feels like you've been doing something for hours and hours, but when you wake up, it's just been fifteen minutes?

[she glances down, straight hair sweeping in front of her face as she takes a drag from her cigarette. when she looks up, she exhales, smoke dissipating into the air around her.]

Feels like that.

[she gives a sly smile,]

But it isn't a dream, is it?

[with one last flicker of mischievousness in her eyes, she shuts the locket.]

(ooc: effy is also wandering around the castle of caer scima, so if you want to do an action thread and have your character stumble upon her, feel free! i'm up for anything c:)

Comments

yES

[mdma]

[effy doesn't react at first, even though she knows that she's the only girl in the room. she waits, staring back at him. exhaling smoke from a spliff she's just lit, she tilts her chin at him in partial greeting.]

No.

[she takes a few steps towards thomas, intrigued, but her face is completely neutral aside from the slight interest in her eyes. she's wondering if he'll explain, or perhaps leave. he looks a tad too shocked -- no, damaged -- to leave, though. maybe she looks like a long lost girlfriend of his, or something. maybe she died.]

Why?

[greenies]

[ why did she lie to me, he thinks, is she smoking? but then, then she denies him, and thomas is left standing there looking confused. this girl is just...a dead ringer for teresa, like stiles had been for him. another "clone".

he looks for all the world like a kicked puppy for a moment as he tries to compartmentalize and calm his crazily beating heart, tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders as he scrambles for some sort of explanation for the girl he just burst in on.]

I'm sorry, you--really look like someone I know. [ heartbreak, that's obvious in his voice. but at least teresa didn't lie--they really are far away from each other. ]

[mdma]

[all of a sudden the information in her mind comes together. she nods, understanding flickering over her features. this must be the boy that teresa was talking about.]

I get it. You're the one.

[she studies him him briefly without another word, the only sound being the scuff of her boot against the floor when she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. he looks so conflicted, it's a bit saddening. teresa must really mean something to him.]

You have one too, don't you? Someone that looks like you.

[greenies]

You've met her? [ it's still hard to shake--she looks like teresa, sounds like teresa (except her accent is like newt's) but isn't teresa. he doesn't think he can get used to it, has to draw his attention to her scuffing her boot on the ground, because it's so much easier than looking in her face, getting his hopes up again.

he nods his head, though, because this place is so strange. of course it's him and her with the clones. it's kind of ironically fitting in the end, isn't it? ] ...yeah. I'm Thomas. Sorry, I didn't mean to come in with no warning.

[mdma]

Yeah. We spoke, she told me about you.

[she doesn't mind that he's not making eye contact with her (a lot of boys have done that to her, so it's nothing new) but she continues to look at him, however unnerving that may be-- she's fully aware of his discomfort.]

Hi Thomas. I'm Effy.

[she glances over her shoulder before looking back to thomas.]

Don't really care. I was just taking a look-- this isn't anybody's room, anyways.