Welcome to Gaia! ::

After leaving Lawr's room she went up to the second floor and found Taym's room devoid of the actual man. Instead of simply leaving, the rifled through his belongings much as she had at the house. There was less of a mess in her wake, but more the odd turning and adjustment of items, enough to say someone had been there, someone had changed things. One his headboard she left a sticky note telling him that standing her up hadn't been cute.

She took a few books at random because she knew he liked them. She took several of the pens he preferred. She took a file, a random, useless one about the wiki he'd worked on. In it's place she left a sticky note saying nobody cared anyway.

There was a child's drawings, paused over for several minutes where she couldn't understand their importance while knowing exactly why they were important. There is a rustle from the minipet cage and this distracts her. She takes them out to play and then forgets about them until they start crying, and hour later and she thoughtlessly puts them back as punishment for being annoying. Later she'll remember she should have kept them out if she was going to hurt him.

She takes very bit of shampoo and conditioner from his bathroom and leaves a sticky note saying he doesn't need them anyway.

His shower has been obviously used.

His bed has been rolled around on.

And then suddenly she is bored entirely and decides to go home.

Barefoot and humming, her arms cradling books and bottles and a baggie of weed, America gazed at the figure on her porch and her smiled widened. "Well I wasn't expectin' you to take me up on it, but I've no objections, hun."

"Just open the door, if you please?" Came her cheerful reply. "I don't trust you my lamp. He said once the thing you were most upset about was the lamp," she tsked. "Gotta watch out for you, now don't I?"

"You already know I used to and why, hun," America passed by with a smirk. She dumped everything she'd taken from Taym on the floor without a thought, instead focusing on the lamp as she stepped over and around the mess that had become of her house.

"Do you want to take a bath first?"

"Because he makes sense, right now," she explained, an echo of her earlier words to Lawr. Reaching up she pulled the tie of her dress, letting it drop to the floor as she passed by on her way to the kitchen.

"Are you sure?" The girl called out. "About the ********? Don't want to try and find out what I've got that you don't?"

"We talk about you, sometimes. And human nature." She has a fistful of flav-or-ice sticks, and held the bunch out for him to grab one in an odd display of manners. "We talk about me a lot 'cause I'm his favorite subject."

She considered the idea for a moment and then nodded agreeably, "Oh them too, but him as well. You should be glad, he'll like you better if you're angry. 'Specially if you dig real hard into that shield of his. Likes being hurt just as much as hurting, you know."

"That would have made you happy, though," she pointed out with exaggerated patience. "He doesn't treat the things he likes very kindly."

She began to saunter toward the stairs, back to him, when the question has her pause. Tipping her head back, she gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling, black eyes beyond Horace's view.

"She's tired. She tried, real real hard, to help people and make this place a home."

Blinking she dropped her hazel gaze to Horace and smirked, "Why not? The ******** have you ever done for me, Horace? You've always acted like I'm some horrible person, now you'll have proof."