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After a solid five days of texting with no reply, only to receive something before she could have sent it on the sixth, Abbi finally received her reply.



In the ultimate form of combined retaliation and obedience, Abbi didn't.
She set her phone down on her bed, changed into what she had deemed her exercise gear, and took a jog on the beach. Perhaps it was in poor judgement to neglect her phone when that was the major mode of communication between Deus higher up's and those who worked below them, but she was the kind of girl to take things to heart. If the person she had bothered to pester wanted her to ignore them, since the text had been harsh enough in its wording to want some distance, she would do her best to oblige.
Upon her return to her room, the teen found that her phone had a fair number of notifications, all of which she initially ignored. There were times to record of her run, as well as various other little tasks to see to first. So perhaps she was being negligent in her replies, it felt owed to the girl. After all the harsh words and curt responses, both verbal and textually, it felt within her right to make him wait.

{ I canna say whether'll notice or nah... But ye have little few friends as is-- }
A popular, exceptionally catchy song that the girl had heard in her recent travels back to actual society when she had ventured to the mall for a movie with friends, was immediately sung out in an attempt to shut up her headmate. Abbi wanted absolutely nothing to do with Viveca's thoughts on the matter, mostly because she could pick them out, if she really wanted, with a simple concentration of thought and careful mental musing of imaginary fingertips. But there was also the idea that she was lonely for friends, for anyone to notice her beyond the person attached to her brain who had gripped on so tight as to forget who chose the other first.

Nearly a whole day later the teen remembered she had ought to reply when she picked her phone up and saw the little bubble over her messages that indicated she had never read them past the previews.
With a frown Abbi sat down on her bed, brought her knees up to her chest and opened the messages.
"Tch! How unpleasant..." She mused at each text, initially for the vulgar language and then for for the promise of not being personally prejudiced against. There were a lot of things she wanted to say, but none of them she voiced. Viveca already knew all of them, so what was the point? The one who didn't know was the person at the other end of her phone and if he didn't care, then neither should she.















So maybe it reeked of bitterness, Abbi still laughed to herself as she plugged up her phone to charge and headed to bed. He would never get the Dupin or the House reference, and she could be satisfied in that at least. It was small, but she was used to little victories, they were all she had any more.

There would be no reply until the next morning as Abbi had found herself the lucky recipient of an easy night's sleep, a rare occurrence when she was much more used to lying in her bed to wait for unconsciousness. This was something she had had to deal with before her acceptance to Deus, but the things she had encountered on, as well as off, The Island certainly hadn't helped matters.
When she woke there were messages on her phone and the teen could not help but blearily wonder if this was what it was like to be popular.
Only, well, they were all from one person so she supposed that they didn't count after all. Abbi didn't really care, instead propped her phone up on her chest to reply before she bothered to get out of bed.









B it would be funny to see the growly puppy actually obey someone. Caught up in the idea of what it would be like for Leslie to actually do something nice for her, only to realize that of what she knew of the boy she didn't want to hinder him doing nice things for himself, Abbi drifted for a few moments. An idea occurred to her that brought her back around and she grabbed up her phone again.

There was a good span of time before the last text arrived, a solid twenty minutes where Abbi pouted and looked in her closet to see if she had anything that looked more adult.

After the last text had been sent off, Abbi found it prudent to prepare herself for the day. A run to the bathroom for a good hairbrush (the longer she stayed on the Island, the more her hair began to curl at the ends, unsettlingly like the ends of a ghost's wispy body), a thorough brush of teeth, and a careful washing of her face. Then there came getting dressed, today felt like a fuku day and thus Abbi chose her recently acquired stardust patterned sailor uniform from her closet that she happily tossed her jacket over. She was not expected to report to the Infirmary until that afternoon and had a few hours to herself. Training would be smart, but since she had been speaking to Jack more, the library felt more appropriate.
By the time she'd reached it, he had replied several times and the teen had to sit down at a chair before she'd grabbed a single book to process his texts.



There was a lot of seat wiggling and hushed squealing as Abbi found herself the recipient of the highest praise ever: Being called a Disney Princess by a jealous Jack.

For over an hour Jack only received one message.

In between the grammar nazi moment and her next flurry of texts, Jack spent his time alternating between a face that would make the : | emote look downright pleased and checking the containment cell systems. The small lab, unlike the rest of the base, had a few layers of dust.


It was hard to tell if he was being serious or sarcastic.


Only because the shrimp had sometimes mentioned her through specific derogatory terms, but close enough.