Paddra Nsu-Yeul

Really, it was her own fault for even having entertained the hope that Caius's suppositions were correct.

That was what Yeul told herself after picking herself up off the ground, feeling shaky and weak for the first time in this life.

She'd been brushing her hair out, not that in really needed it, while getting ready to leave for her afternoon class, Ender's class, when the visions had hit. They'd bowled her over, all the worse due her lack of anticipation, and her hairbrush had fallen to the floor while her whole body stiffened, her pupils turning to hourglasses.

The visions were, as always, a jumbled mess of events. Impressions, disasters, seconds where change had/hadn't/hasn't yet happened/might not happen/is happening right now before--she collapsed, knees hitting the ground hard, and breathing heavily, feeling dizzy and sick and her head pounding as she pressed her palms over her eyelids and reviewed the past. Or the future.

She wasn't sure. Someone was changing it in ways that they weren't supposed to.

She had to contact Caius. It was already too late to stop them--Serah and Noel, her new/old/twisted memories supplied the names--because they were already gone, time had already started, was already bent where they'd passed through the timelines without concern for the waves they left behind.

Slowly, Yeul got to her feet.

Caius had been wrong. Being here did nothing to stop her visions. She didn't blame him--that would be ridiculous--but she, well, didn't know what to think about it.

She'd been a fool to hope, she realized now. The problem, as she took something for her head, and sat on the edge of her bed, was that she didn't even remember when she'd started to hope.

That felt like something she should remember, and yet…

[Mostly establishy, but open sure!]

After her classes, Yeul made her way back to her room. Once there, though, she fidgeted. Picking up a book and reading a few pages before setting it down and then looking at her beads to wonder if she should paint them only to decide that she did not feel like it.

She didn't want to leave her room but nothing in it appealed to her.

Eventually she left her door open, that seemed to help with the worst of the restlessness, and began a letter to Caius.

She could phone him. It was faster. Yeul didn't want to, not when she was still as unsettled as she ever got.

The beginning was, as always, simple: reassurance that she'd not had a vision, reiteration that she missed him, and a query about how he was doing.

After that… the words came slower as she tried to put her thoughts in order.

[Open door and post!]

It was the sort of day where, while there was nothing really to do in her room, she had not particularly felt like leaving it and her one concession to being social was to leave her door open as she sat on her floor, back against the side of her bed and dug her paints out from her pockets.

They were not for painting pictures, she had no talent for that, but rather they were for repainting her beaded accessories as the colors tended to fade.

It wasn’t the most exciting of work to be engrossed in but it was pleasing all the same and Yeul had never been one to seek out excitement anyway.

Perhaps she’d fetch a cup of tea in a bit? Yeul mulled over that as she carefully recolored a blue bead.

[Door & post open!]