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The torrent of interview and comment requests had died down some. Enough that Envy wasn't contantly annoyed by them, but not so much as to have her worried no one was going to care what she said once she got back to her universe.
(An instinctive business-like thinking had been kicking back in as the initial shock of it all wore off. She knew she was going to have to issue some kind of statement to someone just so they didn't write her off.)
She still wasn't sure what she was going to be doing from here on out. She wasn't even sure what her feelings on it all were. Did she hate Todd now? No –– it was more complicated than that. Complicated and altogether confusing. Just like being here. And she was dealing with it the best way she knew how. By sitting at the piano, playing at something that might one day become a song. Or it might not. It was the first time she'd played anything since Toronto. It was the first time she'd thought about music at all, as something other than her career and a business.
She wished she'd had a guitar. Seemed like the song would benefit from that. But there was a familiar comfort to working at the piano, too. And so she did, letting herself lost in it.
Until her phone buzzed again. She picked it up, checked her messages, waiting to see more of the same.
But no. It was from Gideon Graves.
Huh.
[ooc: NFB but open for all the usual, although I am SP-y as hell.]
(An instinctive business-like thinking had been kicking back in as the initial shock of it all wore off. She knew she was going to have to issue some kind of statement to someone just so they didn't write her off.)
She still wasn't sure what she was going to be doing from here on out. She wasn't even sure what her feelings on it all were. Did she hate Todd now? No –– it was more complicated than that. Complicated and altogether confusing. Just like being here. And she was dealing with it the best way she knew how. By sitting at the piano, playing at something that might one day become a song. Or it might not. It was the first time she'd played anything since Toronto. It was the first time she'd thought about music at all, as something other than her career and a business.
She wished she'd had a guitar. Seemed like the song would benefit from that. But there was a familiar comfort to working at the piano, too. And so she did, letting herself lost in it.
Until her phone buzzed again. She picked it up, checked her messages, waiting to see more of the same.
But no. It was from Gideon Graves.
Huh.
[ooc: NFB but open for all the usual, although I am SP-y as hell.]
