ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Repeating the Future

Vignette - Repeating the Future
Dramatis Personae Anette
In Absentia	2016-12-22 '
Location <BOM> The Nightfort - Ascension Island
A comfortable three-bedroom cabin, sturdily built if inelegant. The front door opens up into a cozy sitting room, sparsely furnished as yet. A futon, a coffeetable, a bookshelf (largely stacked with programming books). The sitting room is adjoined by an equally simple kitchenette with room for small table. The three bedrooms here -- two off the sitting room, one on the other side of the kitchen -- are not uniform in size nor layout, with the considerably smaller kitchen-adjacent room having its own screened-in porch. The one bathroom off the living room has an extremely large claw-foot tub that takes up much of its space. Anette is pacing across the living room. Back and forth, zigzagging between and around furniture. Feathers pressed as tight as she can have then against her back. Every few seconds she pauses, glances towards the bathroom, quickly shakes her head, and returns to her pacing. She's been here before. This is nothing new. Previous times had been a lot more casual, a lot more relaxed. But previously, there hadn't been constant bouts of nausea, waking up in the morning and immediately running to the bathroom to vomit, even when completely sober. Previously, there hadn't been an aversion to the smell of spicy foods or bananas. There hadn't been an insatiable craving for all things cheese flavored. There hadn't been...this feeling. She glances towards the TV, on mute with an old Addams Family episode airing. She tried but she's never been able to sit still while panicking. She considers her phone, laying on the couch next to the remote, but there's nothing to say yet. An egg timer goes off, muffled slightly by the bathroom door, and Anette runs for it, flinging the door open. She ignores the buzzing as it runs its course and she picks up the pregnancy stick sitting on the edge of the sink. A quick glance and her face pales. She doesn't move, eyes scanning the screen once, twice, five, twelve times. As if she could will a different reading. Realizing it says what it does and it's not changing, Anette immediately shoves it in the garbage, along with all boxes and instructions, any trace it. Overcome with a wave of nausea, she drops to the ground and, with a few heaves, empties her stomach into the toliet for a third time that day. Once she's dabbed her mouth clean with toliet paper, she slowly rises, flushing it down as she turns to look out towards the living room. The panic has died down and been replaced more with a dazed look. She steps out into the living room, looking around. Without thinking, her feet carry her to the kitchen. She opens a cabinet and reaches for a glass and bottle of vodka. She fills the glass and lifts it to her lips before she realizes what she's doing with horror. She doesn't so much empty the glass as drop it in the sink, the vodka splashing up and onto the counter before most of it goes down the drain. She turns around, her breathing quick and heavy, on the verge of hyperventilating as her yellow eyes scan the room for...she doesn't even know. She makes her way to the living room and picks up the phone. She types in A-K-I-H before pausing. She moves her thumb, deleting the letters before throwing her phone on the couch again. With nothing in the cabin to distract her mind, she turns for the door and hurries through it, not bothering with warmer clothes. Just barely free of the porch, she stretches her wings and takes off, prioritizing height over distance.