you're the fairy bomberman

The trip was over, and Natalie was feeling it. She'd retrieved Mr. Moxy, she'd unpacked her things, she'd looked over her stuff in the common room kitchen and made a list of what she needed to get from Turtle and Canary soon. She was back in her usual attire of hoodie and jeans, and the dress she'd bought and worn in Turkey was already hanging in the closet. She wasn't sure she'd ever wear it again.

She'd even already called her parents to check in about mundane things. (Her mother had asked about graduation for scheduling purposes; her father had asked whether she'd bought any music in Turkey.) Everything was back to normal, and she didn't feel like the trip had left her feeling particularly refreshed or recharged. She mostly just felt like she needed a hug.

But Mr. Moxy curling up next to her on the bed when she sat down to read her Japanese textbook was going to have to do.

[ooc: Open door/post.]

As it was the morning of the first day of Spring Break, Natalie was packing. No, she hadn't left things at the very last minute, even if she'd spent most of the previous day just vegging out and enjoying the ability to just be still instead of constantly feeling restless. Nope, she'd still found time to compile a list of the things she needed to pack, and was now gathering her stuff according to said list, crossing things over once she'd placed them in her bag.

Hey, it made the whole thing go smoother.

The only thing that was giving her any trouble were her clothes. She was from Montreal, she didn't know how to dress for Rio de Janeiro, and then there was the question of the roommate. Who happened to be her boyfriend.

She picked up a shortish skirt which she could barely remember buying and tilted her head at it. Hmmm.

[ooc: Open door, open post! Some SP imminent once I have to switch modes of transportation but other than that I'll be arooound.]