[Contacting other people on the Vine? Asking for help? That is a loser thing that only losers do! Which is why the New Kid here has elected to wander off and occupy herself in making a flower crown and then exploring. She's scaling a statue in the memorial garden when the Vine, annoyed at the neglect, starts broadcasting. There are a few moments of unexciting and self-absorbed childhood innocence before she notices that she's on candid camera, at which point her expression darkens with annoyance.]

What're you lookin' at?

[video]

[She is lying down in the grass, in that white dress, staring up at the sky with a contemplative look. How to explain this? How to understand it? She only recalled the water, the stench and lack of presence of those soulless beings, and that fire in her veins, the hate and attraction and multi faceted lust singing through her blood. To be so wrenched from that was laces suddenly tightened, a swift end to a once functional limb. Pain, sharp and utterly uncalled for. Frustrating, for she could still feel a burn in her, ebbing away so slowly it might not even be doing so.

Grell tilts her head to the side to see the mirror, a smile on her lips to distract from the warring emotions. She looks back up to the sky, but begins to speak a bit of her mind.]

Where exactly in time do we fall? With it, or without it? In it, or outside it? Months are compressed into two lives, one with the absolute and one where everything can happen. One with a chill, and one with warmth.

...Don't mind my vague ramblings. I've just got to sort out a few things.