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Out, out damned spot
Dec. 7th, 2014 04:09 pmThe onslaught of yet another long night of bad dreams is what finally snaps Laurel's patience, after holding it tenuously together with sticks, crazy glue, spit, and sheer determination and will. She's tired of closing her eyes and seeing blood. She's tired of her hands shaking every time she lets her quiet control slip long enough for them to start trembling, and she's kind of beyond tired of the fact that she can't even get home. Being a murderer is one thing, but being stuck and not knowing what's happening...
She checks her hands to make sure they're steady before she begins her exploration, wandering through the first floor of this crazy place. She's quietly searching to see if she can find some kind of psychologist or counsellor or anyone in this place she can talk to. At this rate, she'd even take a priest.
There has to be some advantage to this place. No one knows Annalise Keating, no one knows about the Lila scandal, so maybe, that gives her the chance to actually talk about this stuff before it can start festering and eating away at her. She'd just been trying to become a lawyer and ever since she took the internship with Annalise, it's like her entire life has spiralled into this thing she can't even recognize.
She pushes open another door, but there's no one here. Taking out her small notepad, she marks an 'X' over this room, then scribbles 'library' to fill up the space (joining other ones). This continues with her search until she figures out that they probably don't have counselling services at a fancy hotel and she turns to the next best thing -- alcohol.
"Can I get whatever you think is strongest behind that bar?" she requests of the bartender, leaning over to dig out a few bills from her pocket. When she straightens up, she physically jumps because she swears she sees Connor in the corner of her eye. This is really not a good time for her brain to completely go insane and start throwing hallucinations on her.
She really, really needs to get some sleep.
"Thanks," she says distractedly, when the bartender slides a Long Island Iced Tea towards her, which is already half gone in the blink of an eye, quenching thirst and doing absolutely nothing for her nerves.
She checks her hands to make sure they're steady before she begins her exploration, wandering through the first floor of this crazy place. She's quietly searching to see if she can find some kind of psychologist or counsellor or anyone in this place she can talk to. At this rate, she'd even take a priest.
There has to be some advantage to this place. No one knows Annalise Keating, no one knows about the Lila scandal, so maybe, that gives her the chance to actually talk about this stuff before it can start festering and eating away at her. She'd just been trying to become a lawyer and ever since she took the internship with Annalise, it's like her entire life has spiralled into this thing she can't even recognize.
She pushes open another door, but there's no one here. Taking out her small notepad, she marks an 'X' over this room, then scribbles 'library' to fill up the space (joining other ones). This continues with her search until she figures out that they probably don't have counselling services at a fancy hotel and she turns to the next best thing -- alcohol.
"Can I get whatever you think is strongest behind that bar?" she requests of the bartender, leaning over to dig out a few bills from her pocket. When she straightens up, she physically jumps because she swears she sees Connor in the corner of her eye. This is really not a good time for her brain to completely go insane and start throwing hallucinations on her.
She really, really needs to get some sleep.
"Thanks," she says distractedly, when the bartender slides a Long Island Iced Tea towards her, which is already half gone in the blink of an eye, quenching thirst and doing absolutely nothing for her nerves.