The House of the Arch

Funny how what had seemed like more than a year's accumulation of stuff when Door moved into and out of the cabins isn't taking very long to pack tonight, even with Chimney fluttering about making questionably helpful suggestions in Pigeon.

Then again, it's not that she doesn't have a boatload of books and clothing and random recipes for pie. It's just that most of it isn't going into the couple of bags she can safely carry with her, since she can't just take it all home. Home isn't safe.

But... even though she's sorting slowly, taking more time to decide whether something goes or stays than she probably needs to, Door can't help breaking into a smile every so often. Home isn't safe, but after last night, for the first time since she came here a year ago, there's a chance that home is... home.

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[OOC: Open for anyone who wants to say goodbye; if you think she'd have left a handwavy call or e-mail to let you know she's leaving, then she did. Door's heading home for good tonight, though there's likely to be a few pigeon-mails back to Fandom and possibly a further adventure or two, so feel free to keep her journal friended if you like.]

Door's lying on her bed reading. Not for classes, though she supposes there's that list of piecrust recipes she could be reviewing. She's just reading for fun. You know. That story about the witchy kids at boarding school.

No, the other one. The one there was no one in line for. Magic Month.
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[OOC: For grenfelzer, but open as well. Though I flee for 15 minutes or so. *flees*]

Door?

Still waiting around in her room.

If anyone cared.

Little less pleased now, though.

After two days.
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[Establishy only, la.]

Door's decided to try a different way of arranging her journal, just for variety.

( Cut for linkdrop, as you do )

And now she's lying on her bed reading Dickens and wondering if Tiny Tim could get any more disgustingly cute. And she likes children.

[Door's ...uh. The door's open. As is the post.]

Door is writing a letter. Of sorts.

( de Carabas: )
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....yeah, right. Door snickers, trying to imagine him caring about that sort of thing, then writes on a small slip of paper.

( de Carabas: )

She shuts the piece of paper inside the compartment, slips a short, cryptic message about how to open it into the silver tube on the bird's leg, then opens the window. Opens the window, rather, reaching for the city-smell high above London instead of the salty air of Fandom Island. It's only a smaller door, after all; an opening is an opening, and it's certainly a big enough door for a pigeon to pass through.

//de Carabas// she says to it, cooing softly and stroking the top of its head from old habit, despite a mechanical bird presumably not caring about that sort of thing.

//Chimney!// it chirps in a tone half enthusiastic, half impatient, and flutters off into the air.

Door rather hopes that was a yes, as she closes the window again, then on a whim, opens it the regular way, letting in the fresh, cool island breeze.

[The door's closed, but the post's open!]

As much as she likes to explore and meet new people, Door found herself a bit worn out from talking to so very many of them in Constant Vigilance on Friday. Thus after her shopping trip to town with people she was at least a bit more familiar with, a weekend spent mostly in her room (aside from Saturday evening, when she'd handwavily taken a wander up to the roof to read in order to let Seely have his movie night with... someone she hasn't met yet) had proved a relaxing change.

Having not quite got as far as learning how to find the World Wide Web by herself in internet class on Wednesday, and with her meeting for Sunday tea with Walter temporarily cancelled, Door spent quite a bit of said weekend poking at the computer on her own -- in between studying for the first real lesson in Cross-Species Communication, and enjoying the fruits of having finally discovered the library. She's not entirely sure about her chances of being chosen as a library aide considering the next-to-nothing she knows about the way this library is arranged, but hopefully the fact that she's trying to learn more will help with that. And even if it doesn't, it should help her find things for herself, so there's really no bad there.

Now, though, Door's getting a bit restless. She's lying on her bed with the laptop, already dressed in some of the new clothes she bought on Friday, and still diligently trying to hunt, peck and click her way past the school website without getting lost on the ever-branching number of paths the internet seems to offer, but she's left the door to the room open, glancing up every so often to see if anyone's wandering past, and pondering the idea of taking a wander herself. Possibly back to London to see if de Carabas has sent some sort of reply, but she's not sure how safe that is, so she might wait a few more days to try that one.

[OOC: The door is.... oh come on. I refuse to say it. The post, however, is totally ajar.]