Natalie's Apartment, Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, Monday

The weekend had been unexpected. (That was a word for it, sure.) Clearly Natalie had been a little dumb and optimistic when she'd thought Fandom couldn't get her way out here. And clearly, she needed some kind of system in place for these things. Like a notebook on how not to draw too much attention to yourself while inhabiting Natalie's body.

Not that tiny Natalie had had much of a problem with that. She'd been much too preoccupied with taking care of Moxy to cause a commotion apart from letting security downstairs know Jim had been coming.

But still. Ugh. Waking up, she felt like there was a reopened wound somewhere in her mind or her heart, a kind of a hole that was always there but was harder to ignore right now. And she was still going to. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand and got to checking her emails. Back to work. No one minded that she was going to stay in bed for that, right? It was going to be her one last sliver of immaturity. And maybe a need for comfort, too.

[ooc: NFB, but open for calls and texts and visits and anyone who might have stayed over idk I'm too lazy to check in with people.]