Toronto, two weeks ago (or, Thursday):

She was in her dorm room. Scott came to visit.

"Whoa, what happened to all your crap, I mean stuff?"

"I'm trying to pare down a little."

Or a lot. Really, a lot. Her dorm room looked much more bare than it had until very recently.

"All your toys and anime and stuff?"

Things she'd ported over from her dorm room at Fandom? They'd been nice, but she wasn't going to miss them very much. There were still a few select pieces of fannish paraphernalia back at home. That was enough. "It was weird, they magically turned into cash," she quipped. "I got some new music and these wicked boots." In striking pink, and up to her knee. High heels. Like a brighter version of the ones Jim had gotten her way back when. "They cost $240."

It was reasonable, when you couldn't keep an image change just to a simple haircut.

Toronto, one week ago (or, Friday):

She was in bed with Scott. Things were heating up. In that fumbly, college dorm room kind of way. Shirtless makeouts.

"Mmm. Nat..."

Stop.

That had been striking the wrong cord for a while, now. It had been going round and round in her head for... months, probably, now. It was so hard to keep track of time sometimes.

"Um... Can you – can you start calling me Envy?"

Her voice came out softer, more tentative than she would have liked.

Ribeirão Preto, now:

She was back. She'd been back perhaps half an hour. Long enough to hang up some new clothes in the closet. Long enough to settle down and log on to the Hegemony networks to begin changing her name to from Natalie V. Adams to simply N.V. Adams everywhere she could.

It was a pretty simple change, and not too conspicuous considering that was how she'd signed all her correspondence for a long time. But it still felt so good. And she wasn't quite sure why.

[ooc: WE HAVE AN ENVY. NFB, but open for the usual. Dialogue lifted from Scott Pilgrim volume three.]