Sayuri looked up to the ceiling, curious as to the bangings and crashes coming from Tlachta's room. The teenager had been acting strange since returning from wherever it was that the party went to rescue the other Simulacrum's. She had taken to locking herself away, and only emerged to eat or use the bathroom, and certainly wasnt talking to Sayuri..


Tlachta pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. She stared at the pile of what had once been a wooden chair, now it was a smouldering charred wreck. The floor was damp also. How had she done that really? The small storm she had managed to bring forth in her bedroom had issued a little bolt of lightning and a small shower of rain but then had dissipated, leaving her tired and drained. It was probably a good thing that it hadnt been more powerful. She couldnt imagine what Sayuri would say if she flooded or burnt down her room. Not that she was talking to the woman; she couldnt bring herself to, after all what could she understand about what was going on with Tlachta? Sayuri was just human after all. She piled up the blackened wood, pushing it into her closet and covering it over with a bag, she would dump it when Sayuri left the house. She used her towel and mopped up the rain, and then sat on her bed, looking out the window.
Ever since when she had felt that knowledge about when the storm would hit when they were on the boat, and an odd pulling sensation as if she could control the elements themselves she had felt that she should try and make it happen herself. But only when she'd gotten angry and frustrated had the small clouds formed. Now it felt like she had never made it happen. She sighed, flopping back on the sheets. Maybe if she left the house, spoke to others like herself, she could come to an understanding of what had happened. Tlachta nodded to herself; she would sleep a while and then go out.