25 Unicorn Street, Friday Evening

Her pacing was starting to become a bad habit. It was either that or silence; Kerrigan wished she had a heavy bag or something, something to occupy herself with (something to hit-- maybe she should find that Tyler guy again), something that wasn't simply mindlessly rolling in her own anger and confusion.

Putting Lee on a wall--? Not as fun, and yet more fun than it had been the last time. It was confusing, maddeningly so, and it made her teeth grit.

She was making sure her pacing kept her far away from her old closet, though: all her old pants had turned into Bermuda shorts, and only Jimmy would wear anything that atrocious.

[ mostly for one, but open before him chronologically if anyone has any reason to come by ]