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((OOC: Hope this is okay for being chased.))

The inside of the house was dark but Twyla had a flashlight with her and its tiny light turned on as soon as she found what she thought were stairs. If it wasn't so creepy, the house would be kinda cool--maybe it was because the girl's palms were sweating and her heart was pounding in her chest that any interesting antiques or decor was lost on her. When she reached the landing she walked down a hallway and pushed open the door at the end of the hall.

That was then she heard them.

Footsteps, coming from the floor below. She was not alone in the house. The girl stopped and stood stock still in the doorway of the bedroom she had been about to enter. Oh my God... In her sudden panic the girl flew across the room and pressed her back against the far wall, sliding down it to curl herself into a ball, her eyes never leaving the door. Soon the footsteps trailed off into another part of the house and she heard no more. Twyla was afraid to move, and when she looked down she could see that her body had taken on the colors of the wallpapered wall behind her. It was ironic how similar the scene was to that night a few years ago when she'd first discovered her powers. For a moment she imagined that the noises that she heard downstairs were those of drunk football players, come to scare her after a game of Truth or Dare?. It's just Mike and Dan, they're coming to scare me because they're jerks.

After what seemed like an eternity of crouching there the girl heard the sound of a motor barreling down the street and then suddenly it stopped. A few moments later there were more footsteps that also faded off into another part of the house. In her hiding spot the girl shivered. What the hell am I doing here? I want to go home... She waited until she couldn't hear anymore noises from below and then she ventured from her spot. The girl had decided that she needed to get out--the only door she knew of was the front one. To get downstairs she'd have to be very quiet and very slow so that her powers could keep her camouflaged. She'd also have to be very brave in order to risk facing whoever or whatever was downstairs.

Coming up with the courage took a while. Twyla was just managing to get herself out the door when the lights flashed on and she heard the laughter. She was about to run when something cold and clammy touched her shoulder. Her heart felt like it was going to explode when she turned around to see--

"Twyla." The zombie in the football jersey moaned, its other hand reaching out to grab her. The girl screamed and pulled away, sending herself stumbling out into the hallway. The rotting, maggot covered arms reached out for her again and the girl scrambled away, bunching up the carpet that ran the length of the hall in her mad haste to get away from the sickeningly familiar monster. When she managed to get to her feet she began to run down the hallway and then she tripped on the carpet.

Of all the things to do when you're running away from zombie football players.

She landed hard on her hands and knees. There was a tug on her back and soon her backpack was torn away from her. "Twyla..." Her name was moaned again after the crash that signaled the zombie tumbling backward. The girl didn't turn around, just booked down the stairs three at a time--totally forgetting the footsteps she'd heard earlier and the possible danger on the ground floor.

The girl shook her head. "No, no one's ever said that to me before at least." Twyla was still giggling like mad, in disbelief that her friend had just uttered something so...so...whatever the word was that described someone making a joke about that was. She pondered the implications of the label 'best friend' before she spoke again. "I guess that's kinda true...although as your best friend I have to tell you that I didn't see that coming at all." Twyla stuck her tongue out and took another bite of her tortilla.

"I know right?" With each additional bite of her meal Twyla felt like she was getting that much closer to bursting. "I'm not sure if I could last through a movie, I think I'm going to die." She glared at the delicious take out and then she sighed, finally pushing it away from her. "I think it's food coma time now. Let's get out of here." The girl was planning on getting up but she made no move to remove her bottom from the chair. "Seriously, time to get up." Slowly, very slowly, Twyla pulled herself off the stool and stood up.

A moment later her arms were busy gathering her food mess. "I think that I saw 'He's just not that into you' in the living room, someone must have rented it. Are you in the mood for a chick flick?" As she boxed up the remnant's of the chips and salsa she asked.

It was kinda nice, laying on the carpet. It would have been an ideal place to crash if not for the fibers the tickled Twyla's nose or the fact that it was very, very dark in the living room. So dark that the girl imagines monsters circling her, their paws padding so quietly across the carpet that she couldn't hear them. Soon the girl was laying limp on the floor, afraid to move for fear of the imagined creatures that were obviously stalking her amidst the couches and end tables of the living room.

And then she heard the steps.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Twyla knew that she was making up the monsters. There was subconscious comfort in knowing that your imagination was getting the best of you. Any comfort the girl had felt was gone as soon as she heard the quiet steps on the carpet. Oh my God, I'm going to die. She could almost feel the chill of cold clay on her skin as she waited for the monster to find where she lay camouflaged on the floor.

And then it didn't.

Suddenly, a pressing weight landed on Twyla's limp frame, causing the girl to let out an "Ooof!" in surprise that was covered up by the noise the Thing made as it thudded onto her and the floor. Whatever the Thing was, it wasn't the icy cold clay that was Cthulhu--it was a warm Thing. A moment later the weight redistributed and there were two spots of pressure on her back. They felt like hands, not tentacles--no clay monster, just some Mansion student...hopefully.

A Mansion student with no sense of personal space. "Hey! Stop that!" The sudden decrease in fear left Twyla irritable as she was prodded and poked by some kid. "Watch the hands." She batted at the foes, barely visible in the dim light of the room. Twyla scooted on her back in order to get away from the kid and his/her searching hands (that had crossed a few of Twyla's boundaries, mind you). Her skin was still the same color of the carpet as she sat up and rested her head against the coffee table.

((OOC: ALright, thanks for letting me know. happy move!))

"Exactly. How am I supposed to talk about it? Is that just something you bring up in casual conversation or am I supposed to make a big deal about whatever--whatever is going on?" Some of Twyla's questions bubbled to the surface after Henri replied to her comment about limbo. "I just have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing..." Twyla heaped another chip with salsa con queso and then decided that she wanted the rest of her meal. Hers was simple, just a quesadilla and some rice--she figured she'd fill up on chips first. As she pulled the takeout box out of the plastic bag it inhabited with the other girl's meal she listened to what she was saying about halesbians.

"I should have guessed." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "He seems like a bit of a weirdo, no offense." As an after thought she added: "A nice weirdo though." Sure...a nice weirdo that took pictures of strangers and apparently called people things on the street. To quell any undesirable verbal responses, Twyla showed a big bit of tortilla in her mouth. The best defense against hurt feelings was definitely cheese. You can thank the Diary State, or Twyla Ashby--she'd take the credit in its absence.

Twyla worried her lip as she thought over what her friend was saying. "Maybe...I don't know...I think you're right, I just like Mirror's personality--it's like liking someone regardless of the shirt they're wearing or how they wear their hair..." This made sense, Twyla could run with this. it actually explained a lot. Girl Talk was good for making sense of things, decidedly good.

The block pit felt like home, but Twyla knew she had to get out of it or she'd start to cry. She pulled herself out in one fluid motion an soon she was standing on regular floor once again. "I wouldn't mind being treated like a VIP for once." Brown eyes rolled at the comment, showing she was kidding. "As soon as you get a band going, you let us know." She smiled, it could be interesting and it would be a very new experience seeing as not only had the girl never been to a show before but she'd never really listened to jrock either--she knew what it was through books and magazines but she'd never actually experienced that type of music.

She wasn't going to get anywhere if she just messed around, Twyla knew that much. "Maybe signing up for a class or something would have been a better route...?" The girl asked the question but it was directed at no one in particular. The image of the three of them in a pilates class was almost enough to make the girl burst out laughing. maybe a mutant pilates class would be better?

There was just one thing she wanted to do before hunkering down and running or lifting or....whatever it was one did to erase a pudge. Walking over to the bars she pulled herself up onto the smaller one. Her arms protested, but only slightly as she pulled her legs onto the bar so she was sitting in the splits on it. In a fluid motion she pulled herself up into a standing position and launched herself at the higher bar. Slowly, she pulled herself up so that her belly button was in line with the higher bar. The feeling in her arms and torso felt so good that Twyla was confident enough to attempt pulling herself all the way over the bar--sending her into a swing around the tube of covered metal. When her chest was again higher than the bar the blond pulled herself up faster and preformed what her coaches called a 'giant swing'. Her body was fully extended as she swung around the second time. Deciding to dismount she finished her little exercise and landed after doing a tuck in the air. The landing was a little shaky, but Twyla didn't take a full step so she felt pretty good about it. Instinctively, her arms came up in a 'stick it' position.

Dropping her arms, she turned to the other two people in the room. "So, how do you guys want to torture yourselves today?" Being on the bars had made Twyla momentarily brave--brave enough to pretend like she was familiar enough with Juka to label him as a 'guy' and put him in the same category as Henri.

It had been a long day, but that was the point. Twyla hoped that walking around the city all day would not only tire her out physically, but maybe over stimulating herself with all the sights, sounds, and people of New York would help her subconscious shape her dreams into something...less clay filled and much more pleasant. What she managed to do that day was make herself so tired that when she finally got back into her room at the Mansion she could barely change into her pajamas before she plopped onto her bed and fell asleep.

The nightmare started out like it always did. Twyla was always in the park but she looked different sometimes and sometimes the people were different. The only constants were the park and Cthulhu...

------

First there was nothing, and then there was a girl wearing a sequined dress. The girl had blond hair with pink highlights but it was messy and tangled up, making the highlights hard to see. She was standing on a hill in a muddy park filled with upside down trees. She couldn't quite remember what she was looking for, but she knew that she was looking for something. Her name was Twyla--she knew that too.

"C'mon, Twyla!" She could hear the voice but she didn't know which direction it came from, it seemed to come from everywhere. "I don't know where you are!" She called into the foggy expanse around the hill. "You'll find me, c'mon!" Slowly at first, and then faster as she started to slip the girl in the glittering dress climbed off of the hill. When she got to the bottom the scenery changed. The upside down trees became park benches and there was a bus that in the back of her Mind Twyla knew should be burning but instead it was emitting bubbles.

Carefully, she made her way to the hulking chunk of metal. A hand went out to tentatively grasp at a bubble. It was cold, like touching a chunk of ice and when it popped it popped with a bang that exploded into a tiny shower of sparks that resembled a firework. Soon she popped a few more, getting the same reaction each time. Maybe this place wasn't as bad as it seemed?

"C'mon, Shy-Twy! You're going to be late!" There was the voice again, and it still had no direction of origin. Not wanting to be late for whatever it was the voice was talking about the blond began to run and as she did there was a terrible noise behind her. Twyla didn't have to look back--it was obvious that the monster behind her was the giant clay beast from that night in the park.

It always was.

The problem with avoidance is that it takes two to tango. Twyla was off tangoing by herself it seemed, because Henri was not letting herself get overly distracted. The other girl had a decided point, it would be a good idea to talk about it--she had wanted to earlier, hadn't she? Did she? Everything kept getting jumbled in Twyla's head and she wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. She tried to organize her unruly thoughts as she listened to her friend answer her question.

"True..." It was easier to talk about someone else's boy issues and soon the blond was back on Henri and Van track. "It's totally legit that he didn't try to kiss you. I'd becreeped out if he'd tried to--Van is definitely just a super sensitive guy on the inside. Don't worry about it." She could read the worry as if the brunette had expressed it aloud. "It's like I was saying before, he was probably totally nervous the whole night. He didn't try to put his tongue down your throat because that's what gentlemen do--it has nothing to do with how much he likes you. Actually, he likes you so much that he didn't want to ruin the moment with spit." Twyla's mind went racing off to the media personifications of gentlemen and she smiled a reassuring smile at her friend. He's like Mr. Darcy... A mental image of the strange boy in period clothing popped into her head. Or not...He's like.......someone...

Smart...sometimes? Maybe, maybe not. It was really a toss up. Smart didn't blurt things out like Twyla when her friend put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I kissed Maya." The tone was matter-of-fact and there was strangely, no blush at all. There was however, a strange feeling in her stomach that made the girl want to smile and run and dance and cry all at the same time.She did none of these things, just waited for Henrietta's reaction.