you ever get so sad that you just... clean?
solo seasonal
Professor
02-20-2024, 04:51 PM
Every part of her aches. Hurts. Feels like it's on fire. Jael knew that the day would probably come, she knew that it would find her. It doesn't make it hurt any less. A car crash in slow motion, driving her damn near out of her mind. Rejection sensitivity... it'll fuck you up, okay? It had fucked her up. It had fucked Jael up pretty badly this time around. Throwing her for a loop harder than she could really understand or put words to. Feeling like she was going to be sick every fucking time she dragged herself through the door of what could have otherwise been a comfortable home. Jael hates that she hates it. It's perfectly nice. Erish and Urtur had done a good job moving everything gently, putting things where it looked like they should go. No one had treated her badly here, other than the whole um. The whole thing with Modesty and the coyotes and the whole... that. Jael's stomach churned at the not-so-distant memory. The things she still saw in her nightmares. The nightmares that she pretended she wasn't having anymore, for what it's worth. Jael is fine. She's coping. That's all that matters, right? Ever get so upset that you just need to clean? Something about needing her enclosure to be properly set up for enrichment, or whatever. The wolfdog sets about, scowling at every cobwebbed corner. Intently, she scrubs at them with a brush of dried palms. Knocking down the dust and debris, all things that collect in the time her bungalow has sat empty. Coughing as some of it falls on her face, stepping back, sneezing. Fuck, Jael had to be more careful. Stepping out onto the rickety porch, the girl shakes her coat to free it of dirt before continuing. Then again, there were weak, bouncy spots on the floor of the porch, too. She may as well make a list. She could just about see the chickens from here, and if she cleared away some of the dense brush between here and there... yeah. Work smarter and harder. What part of border collie mix were they misunderstanding? It's fine. She's allowed to be obsessive. Right now, for as long as Jael can obsess on cleaning, on making her living space as comfortable as possible, she doesn't have to feel. She doesn't have to hurt. She can keep busy, and she can keep running from it. Jael isn't sorry. Diligent as she is, Jael latches onto the project full force. She clings to it. Has to have it. It's the only thing that keeps her upright. Knock down the cobwebs. Brush away the dust from the rafters. Sweep the floors, and every other hard surface in the little space. If she's going to live here, it's going to be comfortable, she's going to like it. Grabbing another chunk of dried palm frond and shredding it, using it to scrub away at what was left of the grimy windows. Careful not to cut herself on the cracks in the glass-- some of the panes would need to go entirely, but that was a problem for another day. With some natural light filtering into the space that Jael supposed was probably clean enough now, it wasn't too bad. She hates it. It's not her bedroom in the house. It feels... exposed. Lonesome, all the way out here. Yes, for as cute as the little home is, Jael feels increasingly nauseous as she paces the floor. A caged animal, despite the fact she can just as easily walk outdoors. It's not what she means. She knows what she means. Everything hurts. Setting her sights on another project that would hopefully make it feel at least a little more livable, she clears away the grimy old mattress. With a great huffing and puffing, some tugging, lots of pulling, and even more cursing, Jael goes ass over teakettle-- but gets the nasty old thing outside. She'd have someone help her drag it to the burn pile later. It joins the other broken bits and bobs, a trash heap that would only keep growing as Jael tried to make herself at home. Fuck, she's trying, okay. She was doing her best, even if she's fighting tears. Left with the bare platform of the bed, she meticulously spreads the things that made up her bed inside. It's a bit more comfortable than the basket she'd been sleeping in, she'd give it that. If the whole thing was hers, then she may as well feel like it. Soft things on the very bottom, creating a nest with a crater in the middle. Lining around the edges carefully, and tucking in the softer and more comfortable things she'd been sleeping with. The fur she'd taken from Gil's side of the bed weeks ago, the last thing Jael hides away, tucking it carefully under her pillow. Taking a step back to survey her work... it's not bad. She needs a bath and a nap, but it's not bad. At least it feels more livable now. |
As her keepers, Gilgamesh and Modesty may join any of Jael’s threads if they deem necessary.
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| 1. | you ever get so sad that you just... clean? | Daager Isle | 04:51 PM, 02-20-2024 | 06:21 AM, 03-15-2024 |
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