Newt Geiszler | Pacific Rim (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ximilialog2021-12-02 01:29 pm
groupiedrifter) wrote in ximilialog2021-12-02 01:29 pm
[MOSTLY OPEN] December Catch-All
CHARACTERS: Newton and You!
LOCATION: See Each Prompt
DATE: Dec 1st onward
CONTENT: Newton faces the consequences of his own secrecy - and gets help for it! Alt title: A dumb bitch in action.
WARNINGS: Medical issues, including an alien-induced seizure in one prompt.
I. Back to the Station | [OPEN] | Locations: Kitchen, Infirmary, and Others!
[Returning back to the station doesn't quite... feel as victorious as usual for him. For one thing, he's got a friend who is for some reason still under some weird effect of the dream — and on top of friends also getting hurt, there's that unspoken elephant in the room for a lot of them: the dreams that were shared, those vulnerable moments that leaves a lot of the orbers feeling too seen. But it's more than that. It's... like something's missing. He's got this awful itch he can't mentally scratch, this feeling that he's missing something important, carelessly lost track of an important thing he should be addressing.
But when he thinks about the dreams, he sees the people he'd visited, and he sees himself as a child, himself at a concert and being attacked by kaiju... Nah, man. It's stupid. It's a stupid feeling, and he's just tired.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making himself a huge, unwieldy cup of coffee in a pot in the kitchen, he makes enough to offer those around him. Anyone familiar he's quick to wander over to, smiling a bit more genuinely; after all, he's relieved to see people awake and alert. And of course, don't think for a second he's not gonna check up on his crew in the medical wing. You'd better be resting in that damn infirmary, so help him...!
He still feels off... exhausted.
But it'll probably go away, so whatever.]
II. Morning After Meme (But Not a Meme) | [OPEN] | All Over the Station
[It does not go away.
Some part of him thinks 'I need to plan a post-mission party or sleepover or usual thing, something we can all relax to', but most parts of him just thinks about how nice it would be to sleep some more. Coffee doesn't really cut it, and as the days tick by, he finds himself more and more unable to focus on his projects, or get himself to perk up with caffeine. What the hell, right? Spend a month stuck in and out of dreaming, and now his stupid insomniac brain has decided insomnia is out of style.
So he sorta starts having weird sleeping patterns.
It starts mostly with falling asleep at the desk he's got set up in the lab; slumped over his papers, he snores softly, but it's mostly drowned out by the loud rock music on his phone that can't seem to keep him alert. On occasion he ends up asleep at the mess hall cafeteria table, his spoon still in his hand and a soggy bowl of overly sugary cereal to his left. The sunlight room also leaves the opportunity to find Newton, sleeping on his back with a comic book called The Space Warriors of Zar draped over his face (what a generic-looking manga, looks like one of those big robo shows with the combining mechas...).
It becomes a real problem when he gets so sleepy and ready to hit the bed that he stumbles into the wrong room and crawls under some other poor sap's sheets. So very sorry if you either walk in to find a snoozing, snoring lump under your blankets or open your eyes to Newton sleeping a foot away from you.
Typical Ximilia nights, am I right?]
INTERLUDE PART 1 | What Happens When He Sleeps | [CLOSED]
[In Newton's waking hours, he has no memory of the aliens in his head. But when he's dreaming, he remembers everything — every. little. thing. The precursors that linger in his sad eroding brain tinker and tanker with his free will, but Newt remembers here. He remembers Clara and Peter, Hermann and Yzak, Sabriel and Elthree, Raleigh and the Doctor... They had been in this dream world for a moment. They may not remember, but he saw what they tried to do for him.
It fills him with determination.
And, more importantly: bitchy pettiness.]
NEWTON GEISZLER, YOU ARE TESTING OUR PATIENCE—!
[The precursors all squirm in outrage, but their crescendoed voices are just barely audible over the sound of the music blaring from the speaker Newton has put between them; he sits with his chin on the top of the machine, biting his lip as it nearly trembles into a manic, victorious smile.]
♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪
TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT-!
♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪
DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO THIS FOREVER-
♪ Pissin' the night away, pissin' the night away ♪
III. i'm gonna writhe & shake my body | [CLOSED to Daisy, Blue, and maybe Bones?]
[The mental war wages and rages on in the coming days, but it all kind of goes tits up on December 10th. Not that he'd know he was pissing off aliens in his head. He wakes up from his memoryless nightmares this day as he does any time sleep abandons him, but it's something worse. It's something wrong. His head hurts worse than he thinks it ever has, so much so that he can't think straight; the colors that dance in front of his eyes scream medical science at him: symptoms can include temporary visual or other disturbances, ones that strike before other migraine symptoms: intense head pain, sensitivity to light and sound, and —
Nausea!
Ah, yes, that's the one that makes him stumble into his bathroom.
He's pale and sweaty but a little more put together as he steps out of his room; don't ask him how he's managed to button his shirt or put on his shoes. He couldn't tell you. He mumbles to himself:]
... Migraine aura usually occurs within an hour before head pain begins... and generally lasts less than 60 minutes... Scotomas, shimmering spots, check and check... numbness, check... muscle weakness, yessir... Speech, er, mmmyeah, yeah...
[He looks down at the drops of blood on the floor, blinks. Looks back at the drops of blood that lead from his bedroom door to where he's standing. Then looks at the red spots on his dress shirt.
... Huh.]
... Nosebleed, check.
[Oh no, he finally thinks, Maybe I should've just admitted something's wrong. There in the hall, his eyes roll up in their sockets before they snap shut, and he falls backward like his strings were unceremoniously snipped. The occiput of his skull bounces uncomfortably against the hard ground as his arms and legs begin to twitch and seize, muscles spasming, chest heaving, all while he's caught up in the flashing images of long teeth and serpentine eyes and bio sludge stewing monsters in its depths-
It's an unpleasant thing to run into, the convulsing figure on the floor, but someone's got to, right?
Sorry, Daisy and Blue.]
IV. Whoops? | Location: Infirmary (December 10th) | [OPEN]
[Ah, if it isn't the consequences of my actions.
In a very short, very unpleasant dream, he's lying on the floor of the endless white expanse, crumpled into a very still pile with his arms and legs splayed out. He breathes in deep. Holds it. Breathes out. He doesn't open his eyes here, but he can hear the precursors chattering. We pushed too hard. But he was getting on our last nerve, what else were we supposed to do to shut him up? Great, we've broken him; how are we going to use him if we break him? Humans are so frail. How were we supposed to know just how frail? Like bugs! Like fleas and ticks!
Newton slurs, ... Fleas and ticks are hard to kill...
And in reality, as he lays in an infirmary bed, he wakes up grumbling:]
Fleas and ticks are hard to kill.
[Oh. Oh, shit, right. He's resting in the infirmary. He remembers waking up from it at some point, getting looked over — bedrest, his mind supplies. He's only been here for a couple of hours, but he feels like it's been days for how little of it he's actually spent awake. Concern and guilt and panic hit him like a hammer; is he gonna have to actually admit it all now? That something's horribly wrong?
Duh, of course you are.
He's not allowed to leave for the next few days, just until tests are done and he's certifiably safe to walk out on his own and be left to his own devices, but it doesn't mean he's gonna like being stationary. Like... yes, he did absolutely have a medical crisis happen recently, but he's supposed to go on his routine jog! And work on his stuff in the lab! And plan dumb movie nights!
You deserve this, you lied all this time.
Sure, but it doesn't mean he has to accept his punishment like a good person should.
By now, Daisy might've already let people know. Or maybe they felt Blue's sudden burst of despairing energy when he'd tried to enter Newt's head during the seizure (spoilers: it sucked for Blue, not that Newton even remembers him being there; too busy seizing and all).
Or, y'know, they would've just poked their heads in and saw that he was in here.
This ship is too damn nosy for it's own good.
It's because they care, stupid.
When did his inner monologue get so mean?
Uncalled for.
............
Said to the wall ahead of him, he mumbles wearily:]
Fuck, I'm craving chips and salsa like crazy.
V. WILDCARD?
[This is a catch-all for December, so feel free to throw me a prompt or do a starter here!]
LOCATION: See Each Prompt
DATE: Dec 1st onward
CONTENT: Newton faces the consequences of his own secrecy - and gets help for it! Alt title: A dumb bitch in action.
WARNINGS: Medical issues, including an alien-induced seizure in one prompt.
I. Back to the Station | [OPEN] | Locations: Kitchen, Infirmary, and Others!
[Returning back to the station doesn't quite... feel as victorious as usual for him. For one thing, he's got a friend who is for some reason still under some weird effect of the dream — and on top of friends also getting hurt, there's that unspoken elephant in the room for a lot of them: the dreams that were shared, those vulnerable moments that leaves a lot of the orbers feeling too seen. But it's more than that. It's... like something's missing. He's got this awful itch he can't mentally scratch, this feeling that he's missing something important, carelessly lost track of an important thing he should be addressing.
But when he thinks about the dreams, he sees the people he'd visited, and he sees himself as a child, himself at a concert and being attacked by kaiju... Nah, man. It's stupid. It's a stupid feeling, and he's just tired.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making himself a huge, unwieldy cup of coffee in a pot in the kitchen, he makes enough to offer those around him. Anyone familiar he's quick to wander over to, smiling a bit more genuinely; after all, he's relieved to see people awake and alert. And of course, don't think for a second he's not gonna check up on his crew in the medical wing. You'd better be resting in that damn infirmary, so help him...!
He still feels off... exhausted.
But it'll probably go away, so whatever.]
II. Morning After Meme (But Not a Meme) | [OPEN] | All Over the Station
[It does not go away.
Some part of him thinks 'I need to plan a post-mission party or sleepover or usual thing, something we can all relax to', but most parts of him just thinks about how nice it would be to sleep some more. Coffee doesn't really cut it, and as the days tick by, he finds himself more and more unable to focus on his projects, or get himself to perk up with caffeine. What the hell, right? Spend a month stuck in and out of dreaming, and now his stupid insomniac brain has decided insomnia is out of style.
So he sorta starts having weird sleeping patterns.
It starts mostly with falling asleep at the desk he's got set up in the lab; slumped over his papers, he snores softly, but it's mostly drowned out by the loud rock music on his phone that can't seem to keep him alert. On occasion he ends up asleep at the mess hall cafeteria table, his spoon still in his hand and a soggy bowl of overly sugary cereal to his left. The sunlight room also leaves the opportunity to find Newton, sleeping on his back with a comic book called The Space Warriors of Zar draped over his face (what a generic-looking manga, looks like one of those big robo shows with the combining mechas...).
It becomes a real problem when he gets so sleepy and ready to hit the bed that he stumbles into the wrong room and crawls under some other poor sap's sheets. So very sorry if you either walk in to find a snoozing, snoring lump under your blankets or open your eyes to Newton sleeping a foot away from you.
Typical Ximilia nights, am I right?]
INTERLUDE PART 1 | What Happens When He Sleeps | [CLOSED]
[In Newton's waking hours, he has no memory of the aliens in his head. But when he's dreaming, he remembers everything — every. little. thing. The precursors that linger in his sad eroding brain tinker and tanker with his free will, but Newt remembers here. He remembers Clara and Peter, Hermann and Yzak, Sabriel and Elthree, Raleigh and the Doctor... They had been in this dream world for a moment. They may not remember, but he saw what they tried to do for him.
It fills him with determination.
And, more importantly: bitchy pettiness.]
NEWTON GEISZLER, YOU ARE TESTING OUR PATIENCE—!
[The precursors all squirm in outrage, but their crescendoed voices are just barely audible over the sound of the music blaring from the speaker Newton has put between them; he sits with his chin on the top of the machine, biting his lip as it nearly trembles into a manic, victorious smile.]
♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪
TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT-!
♪ I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down ♪
DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO THIS FOREVER-
♪ Pissin' the night away, pissin' the night away ♪
III. i'm gonna writhe & shake my body | [CLOSED to Daisy, Blue, and maybe Bones?]
[The mental war wages and rages on in the coming days, but it all kind of goes tits up on December 10th. Not that he'd know he was pissing off aliens in his head. He wakes up from his memoryless nightmares this day as he does any time sleep abandons him, but it's something worse. It's something wrong. His head hurts worse than he thinks it ever has, so much so that he can't think straight; the colors that dance in front of his eyes scream medical science at him: symptoms can include temporary visual or other disturbances, ones that strike before other migraine symptoms: intense head pain, sensitivity to light and sound, and —
Nausea!
Ah, yes, that's the one that makes him stumble into his bathroom.
He's pale and sweaty but a little more put together as he steps out of his room; don't ask him how he's managed to button his shirt or put on his shoes. He couldn't tell you. He mumbles to himself:]
... Migraine aura usually occurs within an hour before head pain begins... and generally lasts less than 60 minutes... Scotomas, shimmering spots, check and check... numbness, check... muscle weakness, yessir... Speech, er, mmmyeah, yeah...
[He looks down at the drops of blood on the floor, blinks. Looks back at the drops of blood that lead from his bedroom door to where he's standing. Then looks at the red spots on his dress shirt.
... Huh.]
... Nosebleed, check.
[Oh no, he finally thinks, Maybe I should've just admitted something's wrong. There in the hall, his eyes roll up in their sockets before they snap shut, and he falls backward like his strings were unceremoniously snipped. The occiput of his skull bounces uncomfortably against the hard ground as his arms and legs begin to twitch and seize, muscles spasming, chest heaving, all while he's caught up in the flashing images of long teeth and serpentine eyes and bio sludge stewing monsters in its depths-
It's an unpleasant thing to run into, the convulsing figure on the floor, but someone's got to, right?
Sorry, Daisy and Blue.]
IV. Whoops? | Location: Infirmary (December 10th) | [OPEN]
[Ah, if it isn't the consequences of my actions.
In a very short, very unpleasant dream, he's lying on the floor of the endless white expanse, crumpled into a very still pile with his arms and legs splayed out. He breathes in deep. Holds it. Breathes out. He doesn't open his eyes here, but he can hear the precursors chattering. We pushed too hard. But he was getting on our last nerve, what else were we supposed to do to shut him up? Great, we've broken him; how are we going to use him if we break him? Humans are so frail. How were we supposed to know just how frail? Like bugs! Like fleas and ticks!
Newton slurs, ... Fleas and ticks are hard to kill...
And in reality, as he lays in an infirmary bed, he wakes up grumbling:]
Fleas and ticks are hard to kill.
[Oh. Oh, shit, right. He's resting in the infirmary. He remembers waking up from it at some point, getting looked over — bedrest, his mind supplies. He's only been here for a couple of hours, but he feels like it's been days for how little of it he's actually spent awake. Concern and guilt and panic hit him like a hammer; is he gonna have to actually admit it all now? That something's horribly wrong?
Duh, of course you are.
He's not allowed to leave for the next few days, just until tests are done and he's certifiably safe to walk out on his own and be left to his own devices, but it doesn't mean he's gonna like being stationary. Like... yes, he did absolutely have a medical crisis happen recently, but he's supposed to go on his routine jog! And work on his stuff in the lab! And plan dumb movie nights!
You deserve this, you lied all this time.
Sure, but it doesn't mean he has to accept his punishment like a good person should.
By now, Daisy might've already let people know. Or maybe they felt Blue's sudden burst of despairing energy when he'd tried to enter Newt's head during the seizure (spoilers: it sucked for Blue, not that Newton even remembers him being there; too busy seizing and all).
Or, y'know, they would've just poked their heads in and saw that he was in here.
This ship is too damn nosy for it's own good.
It's because they care, stupid.
When did his inner monologue get so mean?
Uncalled for.
............
Said to the wall ahead of him, he mumbles wearily:]
Fuck, I'm craving chips and salsa like crazy.
V. WILDCARD?
[This is a catch-all for December, so feel free to throw me a prompt or do a starter here!]
no subject
... I'm just sorry I wasn't there to stop it from happening.
[It's a genuine little answer, before she moves to drag herself up. It's easy enough to slide himself so that his head ends up on her thigh instead of the pillow near her. Sapping up her heat like always, even though he runs warm himself.]
You really can't remember, huh?
... Must've been a real nasty nightmare.
no subject
Must've been. So it's probably best I don't remember.
[Vague thoughts of her last hours with the Doctor back on Gallifrey play through her mind then. Declarations that her past is her own, and those memories belong to her. Only for her to wind up erasing his memories of her without his knowledge or consent.
Her hand stills in his hair as she thinks on all that, coupled with the slightly uneasy feeling that's growing in the pit of her stomach as she sits here with him. She has no idea why it's there or what could be causing it. It's likely just because she woke up from her nap early and is still feeling out of sorts.]
With how close we are, I'm surprised we didn't manage to find one another in our dreams. I don't think our paths crossed at all this mission, actually.
[Which makes her feel incredibly guilty. She's a terrible friend.]
no subject
Ooooh, that's the spooot, Clara "Magic Fingers" Oswald.
[Obnoxiousness aside, he glances up at her.]
I'm kind of glad you didn't end up in my dreams. I mean... some of them were a little rough? I was a kid in some, and, like, the awesome concert I went to was fun — but... yeah. Some people got a sneak peek into some of the worst nights of my life.
So that was. Something.
no subject
I wish I had been there for you. I should've been.
[In many ways, it feels like they've slipped further and further apart since her return. And maybe it's because she doesn't want to tell him that she's died and she's going through a crisis because of it. She doesn't want him to feel like he needs to save her, because he's obviously going through something himself. Something that she wants to save him from. But she feels like it isn't her place, no matter how loud he moans when she runs her fingers through his hair.
She has no idea why, but tears start to fall. She curls inward a little, hoping he won't notice. But they slide down her cheeks and land right on his forehead, and she has to use her good hand to wipe them away.]
1/2
What's wrong? Stargirl, c'mon...
Did I say something stupid? Hey, hey, it was kind of rough, but it wasn't so bad! Look, just a crappy break-up and the whole kaiju thing. I promise, you didn't have to be there. And — and I wouldn't have wanted you there. What if you broke your other arm?
no subject
I-it's been a long month! But we're gonna be fine now, right?
[Oh my god, he thinks, Newton, you weepy bitch.]
no subject
He starts crying and she just cries more, curling downward until her forehead is pressed against his and they're a crying mess. ]
I don't know why I'm crying.
[She finally gets out, lifting her head so she can wipe at her eyes with her non broken hand.]
I just don't want to lose you.
[And right now, something inside her is making her feel like it's a real possibility. She doesn't understand the fear and anxiety she's feeling about that. Or why it's even a thing at all. But apparently they just need to create an echo chamber of tears and get out these things they're feeling.]
no subject
Y-you're not! You're not gonna lose me!
[An epiphany strikes him, and he thinks about Yzak and Peter and Kirk and Finn — so many people who had very specific and concerned reactions not very long ago to bloody pillowcases. He urgently rolls over onto his knees and shimmies closer to her, grabbing her hand.]
Listen, I don't — whatever you heard, I'm okay! Okay?
So don't worry, 'cus you're not.
no subject
Okay.
[The word is choked out, and she very literally has to force herself to try and compose herself. She doesn't know why she feels uneasy, or what's going on. But she and Newt should be joking around about how ridiculous it is she managed to break a bone before he did.]
It's okay, I just -
[She takes in a shaky breath, then releases it slowly.]
It must be the arm. And the medication.
[She's only taking basic painkillers. But she can act like it's making her off like this.]
no subject
Totally just a lot happening at once.
[He sniffs, wipes at his face with the edge of her blanket before he offers to wipe hers with it next.]
Maybe it's like Sam told me once. Sometimes things just set people off, you know? There's, uh. There's nothing to be ashamed about when it happens, but emotions can just pour out, and it's healthy and good, so don't worry!
[He sure sounds like he's fervently trying to make her feel better.
Is it working?????]
no subject
I'm not sure anything about this was healthy, Newt.
[She eventually gets out, giving him a long look.]
But you're right. There's just a lot happening at once. I'm fine. This is...fine. Just a bit of an emotional hiccup, is all.
[The uneasy feeling isn't clawing at her any longer. But she has no idea why she even felt it in the first place. She gives Newt a side glance before leaning forward to embrace him in a hug. She's mindful of her hurt arm, careful not to crush it between them.]
no subject
Two people saw a really messy break-up, so that's gonna be awkward to address later. And the amount of sad stuff I ended up seeing? I'll be crying for days when I least expect it, totally.
[He smiles sympathetically as he dabs away her tears, trying not to mess up any mascara she might have. As an ex wearer of eyeliner in his teen years, he knows the woes of smearing make-up on your face. And — oh, yeah, here, let him fix your bangs a little.
Once he's done, he elects to sit there and fidget with the now soggy edge of the blanket. It's a relief that she goes in for the hug first, because he'd already been contemplating it and the nature of his neediness.
Sighing softly into her shoulder, he settles into it comfortably.
He's so tired, he might just fall asleep like this if he stays too long.
But it's so worth it.]
Can't believe you cried about not being there for me one time out of a hundred.
You're always there for me. Cut yourself some slack.
no subject
I can imagine it was a lot to handle, having people see those things. But it could also bring you closer to them. I know it did with Kovacs.
[She won't get into what she saw in his dream, but it had been intense. So had things with the Doctor, but she still is unsure if that had truly brought them closer or only accented the fact they're now further apart than ever.
She and Newt though, they don't have to be. Everything's just fine between them.
She pulls back out of the hug, so he can see the smile on her face. See? She's just fine. Everything's fine, forget that they were just crying.]
Do you remember who all you saw in your dreams?
no subject
[Hard to say if that was a total nightmare for Kovacs or not. But it sure beat the place they'd both been in before. Kovacs' life kind of sucked, huh? Like, wow. He sniffs as he pulls back from the embrace, but seems to have managed to dry up those weird, sudden waterworks himself. Not that it stops his eyes from being red-rimmed, nor the exhaustion to be even more obvious, but. Eh.]
But... yeah, pretty much. Yzak and this droid named, uh. Roger? Yanli, Sam... Beanie Boy. [We all know that's Shinjiro Aragaki when he says it.] Oh, and Finn got a front-row seat to the time a kaiju almost picked me up out of a bunker and ate me.
[He laughs, sheepish.]
That really sucked to relive.
no subject
[That...is incredibly precious. Her head tips to the side as she imagines Kovacs with a seven year old Newt, and the image is so endearing she can't help but smile a goofy little smile.]
I'm glad you had at least one decent thing to remember.
[He deserves more non-traumatic memories.]
Do you still like to go fishing? Or are music and monsters your only love now?
[Because the wheels in her head are turning, trying to piece together a way to get them some R&R this month.]
no subject
He had absolutely no power over eight-year-old Newt. Nine? Okay, I admit, I can't even remember what age I was. The dream stuff where I'm practically a toddler is understandably kind of a nightmare to navigate. I was super smart back then, but child smart; working with a less developed brain was weird.
[The weirdness of being dropped from 35-years-old to a little kid...
So, so weird. Anyway!]
I still totally enjoy fishing! As long as there's some good tunes. Sure, I'm bad at sitting still half the time, but... it's kind of peaceful. Besides, fish are one of the first creatures I got a fascination for.
...
Them and dinosaurs. What kid didn't love dinosaurs?
no subject
[She says almost flatly, like it's a traumatic memory that pains her to bring up.]
Right after the Doctor regenerated, he almost flew his Tardis right into the mouth of a T-Rex. It wasn't as fun as it sounds.
[Because Newt is as reckless as she is and she knows he thinks that would be amazing. And so it's with a mock exasperated look on her face that she guides him to lay back down so his head is in her lap.]
Fishing, though. I'm sure we could squeeze some quiet time in the sunlight room.
[He really needs to just relax!!]
no subject
That's close enough, right?
[Ha ha, joking about traumatic situations, we love it. He can't help but reach up and squeeze her cheek.]
D'aw. Look at my little dino hunter, though. So proud!
... Does that mean you're gonna go fishing with me and Kovacs now?
no subject
[She gives him an exasperated look, like she can't believe she has to explain it to him.]
No one else. Just you.
[He's one of her closest friends, and she wants to spend more time doing things that are just relaxing. They're always caught up in drama or suffering. It's about time they just had a quiet day doing something simple.]
no subject
But then he's grinning like an idiot all over again.]
With those goofy fishihg hats covered in lures? And khaki vests?
no subject
what has she gotten herself into.]
Absolutely not.