Sorry that I haven’t been writing anything other than short updates. Life, if you can believe it, hasn’t been very eventful recently, and that’s probably the most believable thing I’ve said so far on here. Anyways, we picked apples today at a park for a community service thing, and Maxine almost completely went ham on Constance today. She hasn’t been feeling mentally well the past few days, and it’s been a delicate balance between giving her enough alone time to sort out her thoughts and keeping her busy enough that her thoughts don’t completely consume her. Maxine was trying to be busy with the crazy long apple picker, and Constance had only screwed up a little bit, accidentally putting one rotten apple into the good apples bag, and Maxine just… exploded over every little perceived misjudgment that Constance had made over the past few months. And after she was done with her unnecessary rant, she calmed back down into the generally collected and quiet person that she is, made a pitiful attempt at excusing herself, and took off flying back to the hospital. (Nobody on this gol-durned planet cares who can and cannot fly. That’s just a normal thing here, probably from all the stories circulating of what happens in that Soona Bris place.) From what Constance tells me, Maxine’s now going to be seeing a psychiatrist every day.
Emma’s been making improvements with regaining control over her limbs and learning to see with the floating sphere thing, but when someone tries to get her to talk to them about what Allaketo did to her, she either shuts down and doesn’t respond to any questions or keeps derailing the conversation to talk about how numb she’s feeling inside. If I were in her place, I’d be pretty numb too if that was the alternative to having to deal with whatever stress and nightmares came from having those… experiences? Is that the right word for torture nowadays, since apparently we have to sugarcoat everything for the weaker-minded audiences?