i'm pure at heart, it repels the dirt

Isabelle's room was a mess. Of course, Isabelle's room was always a mess, but tonight it was a particular kind of mess. The usual mess was still there, comprising mostly of clothes and related accessories strewn all around the room, but there was another mess on top of it. Subtle things, mostly. Like the shoe scuff mark on her door, at around waist-height, far too high to have been an accidental kick or anything of the sort. No, she'd been throwing things around after she'd made it back to her room from Wonka's this afternoon.

And for an extra melodramatic kick, all of Flick's things were in a box by the door. (Inside the room, though, so there was that.) T-shirts, some of his gifts, a few random minor items he'd left behind, all stuffed in a box which she'd also kicked for good measure.

Maybe next time she'd know better than to try and attack a relationship issue when she was tired. She had these things all backwards. This thing she was doing right now, trying to make a cocoon out of her blankets? This was what she should have done first. Maybe that would have prevented at least fifty percent of the absolute crap that had happened today.

But maybe not. After all, she was not very smart when it came to her emotions.

[ooc: Door closed, but post can be open!]

Isabelle hadn't been sleeping a whole lot this past week. Her brain had a bad habit of trying to process the whole ordeal while she was out of it, which meant she seemed to spend a lot of her nights back in Edom. Sometimes, the Endarkened had the faces of people she actually knew and loved. And there were demons, and near-death, and Asmodeus, and losing Simon, over and over and over again, followed by waking up with a start.

But at least Flick had stuck around so she wasn't alone. As much as it pained her to admit to anyone that she was having nightmares and might need the comfort.

This past night, however, had been relatively calm. Maybe she'd exhausted herself in the week leading up to it, because now that she was waking up, she found she'd finally slept through the whole night. It felt like a miracle, even though she was sure she'd still tossed and turned during the night. But as she woke up, she was sprawled over Flick and everything was quiet and calm.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her face to just watch him for a while.

[ooc: For the boooy who was modded with permission.]

After a couple of days of actual sleep and food, Isabelle was starting to feel (and look) a little better. She was almost feeling normal. Soon she'd get back to her usual training, and everything would be as it was supposed to.

But she was still feeling the island-induced itch. No matter how many times she got rid of it, it always came back. And so, she was trying to divert that energy into some other things. Today, that thing was cleaning her room. Like, really cleaning it. Not Jace-level cleaning, but close enough to it by her standards. She'd gone through the piles of clothes that usually littered her floor and the chair at her desk, and sorted them and put them where they belonged, whether it was the laundry basket or the closet. She'd thrown out bottles of dried nail polish. She'd even pulled her bed apart, back into two beds, so she could clean the floor underneath it.

Sexual frustration was what it took for her to actually clean her room properly. Who knew?

[ooc: Door/post open!]

Isabelle was exhausted. And yet almost more than that, she was frustrated. They'd patrolled and searched almost non-stop all weekend, to no avail. No one had found even a trace of either Jace or Sebastian. Nothing apart from the blood and the shards of shattered glass on the roof on Friday evening. And that was simply not good enough.

Alec had all but shoved his sister through a portal to Fandom. Something about forcing her to take a break she knew he wasn't going to be giving himself. She wasn't intending to stay long, either. Just the night, maybe class tomorrow, and then she'd return to New York to rejoin the search party.

But right now? She was flopping face down on to her bed.

[ooc: Open post, half-open door!]

Isabelle had been away all weekend. The best thing to do when you couldn't deal with feelings (and other people didn't know how to deal with your feelings, either) was to run away and go home. Isabelle wasn't sure Jace had been very thrilled with her sudden arrival and demands of training, but he'd gone along with it, and for that she was thankful. As well as for his stories of his Thanksgiving with Clary at Luke's. He'd gone at the turkey with a sword, apparently it had been quite the spectacle.

But Isabelle was back in Fandom now, and feeling uneasy about it. This was why running away had not been the best decision: if you did that, you had to either keep running, or come back and deal with the consequences. She wasn't sure she was up for that yet.

So she was just going to flop down on her bed with a mundie fashion magazine right now, and catch up on gossip about unfamiliar people she didn't care about. That was much safer.

[ooc: Open door, open post.]

Isabelle was all set for a sleepover. She was wearing some really cute pajamas, she had her laptop for movies, her vanity table decked out for a makeover, and she'd placed an order with the Chinese place in town and was expecting a delivery any time now.

Now all she needed was her sleepover buddy. Or whatever the hell mundies called the participants of a sleepover. Maybe Flick could enlighten her.

[ooc: For the boooy. And probable SP because homework.]

Isabelle was having trouble focusing.

She didn't even have anything in particular that needed her undivided attention, so it shouldn't have been a problem. But it was annoying. She didn't like moods like this. What was the point of not being able to get lost in doing anything? Ugh. And she'd already been down at the gym training, too. And both her closets were as organized as they were going to get. And she didn't feel like shopping.

So, this was how you ended up pacing around the room like a caged animal. It was not a good look on her.

Maybe she needed to go for a run or something.

[ooc: Open post, open door!]

Today was the day they were laying Max's body to rest in the necropolis in Idris.

And Isabelle was exactly where she'd been for the last two days. In her room, wrestling with her guilt and her sorrow. She hadn't eaten a whole lot. Or slept a whole lot. But enough not to be a complete wreck. No, the crying had taken care of that.

She knew she needed to pull herself back together because the quiet in Idris wouldn't last forever and she would do no one any good by wallowing in self-loathing, but she hadn't quite gotten to there yet. She would, but until then... She'd sit on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes and feeling wretched, yet somehow not wretched enough.

[ooc: Primarily for one, but can be open if you feel like dealing with the angst. Ghostly Jude's ghostly visit NFB due to ghostliness, the rest is fair game.]

The call had finally come. The Clave was calling all active members who could be spared back to Idris for a massive Council meeting. Isabelle was going to portal out to New York on Friday after her class, to catch another portal to Idris with her family. She was already packing, both to feel like she was being properly productive now that things were moving ahead again, and just because she liked packing. At least when it involved going to Idris and knowing she could wear as many sleeveless things as she wanted because everyone was like her. So, that was what she was doing. Picking clothes and carefully folding them to put in her bag.

And then, suddenly, she screamed.

Because that was what you did when you got what seemed like a bucketful of icy cold water dumped on you seemingly out of nowhere, and you were suddenly drenched and cold. And also ––

"My dress!"

Goddammit, the fabric was very delicate!

[ooc: Open door/post! Also the last time to talk to Izzy before some horrible canon happens to her and ruins her mood for a while.]

Isabelle figured she should have stuck around the carnival to help see things through. But, she trusted other people to handle that. So she'd made a different choice, and was currently ushering Flick in through her door at the dorms.

"Here we are."

[ooc: For the guy!]