control yourself; take only what you need from it

[psychoenough]

While Annie might claim that she's become accustomed, more or less, to the way of life on Tabula Rasa, this is typically an outright lie. What she fails to understand - or simply chooses not to acknowledge - is that there's a distinct difference between acceptance and tolerance, and as it stands, she's been just barely tolerating life on the island

Comments

[fakejaded]

The truth is, Britta actually wasn't so bad about waking up early back in Greendale. She had far less reason to be up late or to oversleep, she generally got her classes out of the way pretty early, she worked. It was a life a bit too conventional for comfort, but that's the kind of thing she's good at hiding and anyway, it was never early in the way someone like Annie wakes up early.

It was just a lot earlier than she wakes up hereMaybe this is the kind of thing she should have expected when she said Annie could stay with her, that eventually she'd wake up to the teen screaming bloody murder, but the first thing she thinks, as she drags herself out of bed and bolts out to where Annie is, is that it is entirely possible Annie is either dying or has killed someone. She doesn't think through the who - some kind of intruder possibly - but either way, death is involved. Instead she finds Annie standing there with her pretty face contorted into an expression that says maybe her first thought won't prove too far off. At the moment, though

[psychoenough]

Huffing rather than inhaling like anyone normal, it's some time yet before Annie registers that Britta has surfaced from sleep. Too flustered and breathless to answer the question, she glares accusingly at the blonde, her expression wordlessly declaring, "You," as if there would be any one else about the hut, especially at this hour. At the moment, she isn't all that concerned with logic; reason has no business amidst a mess like this, and that's precisely the problem.

With an exaggerated gulp, Annie kneels down to retrieve the offending boot, then rising to present it before Britta so that she can see what she's done. "I tried," she informs the other woman, nodding furiously now. "I did, I tried to put up with all the disorder and the chaos but I, I just can't anymore! Why do you even need these? We're on a tropical island! Are you biased against sandals? What is wrong with sandals? In fact, what's wrong with picking up after yourself and not living like a perpetually stoned 30-something professional gamer inhabiting his parents'

[fakejaded]

"Okay, I am twenty-nine," Britta says, sharp, "and I am not stoned, so your comparison isn't holding up any water, now is it?" She isn't really doing herself any favors, but it's early and she can't quite understand why Annie is so angry. After all, at least Britta asked her to stay here so she doesn't have to live in the Compound or on her own, and it's entirely in her own power to decide to leave. Stepping forward, she makes a grab for the boot (the pair of which took a long time to rescue from the clothes box, thank you). "And I don't see what's wrong with my boots or how I live, Annie. No one said you had to live here, making your little hmming noises of indignation and judgment like you think I can't hear you, but you want me to hear you, I know you do, don't pretend."

[psychoenough]

"I said like," Annie is quick to point out, wagging a finger in Britta's direction. "I likened you to a pathetic, aging stoner, I didn't say that you were one." (Somewhere in the back of her mind, some small part of Annie acknowledges that that was harsh, but the rest of her is too busy being worked up to correct herself and apologize.) Gasping in the wake of Britta's accusations, she shakes her head wildly, making a show of stepping back defensively. "I do not make any noises of indignation! If anything, I make noises of utter frustration with what you call -" Break for air quotes. "- A lifestyle."