Bette is chewing on the end of a pen, looking at a year long calendar.

In one color of highlighter, she has marked out her volunteer shifts at the hospital as far out as she knows them - all of these are marked so they look all candy cane striped. In another, she has marked out her tennis tournaments (if she's in playing shape) and her charity tennis events - these are marked in a nice light blue, a little darker than sky blue. Marked out in yet another color (a nice canary yellow) she has put a box around the days that she knows, from her agent, she has commitments for. There are very few of those, to her regret but there is one appearance on some gameshow or another sometime in March.

Chewing on the end of the pen (a very nice shade of flame orange) she contemplates the days that don't have any colors at all yet. There is something she's missing. She knows there is something she has to be missing on this. Should she put in birthdays? The computer here has to have everyone's birthdays, right? In a tangential way, that makes her think of Vic. She needs to talk to him again about a few more things. There is always something, isn't there?

She has to stop putting things off. That's why she's getting organized. She'd like to get out a metallic pen and mark days off for Vic but it doesn't work like that just yet. There is another day or two she'd like to mark off but she doesn't know if they're going to happen at all.

Bette shakes her head. She has no idea why she makes one of these every year. It isn't like it ever really helps her be more organized. It just helps her feel like, maybe, she might be more organized than she really ever is or might ever be. It doesn't help her planning that she keeps getting distracted into daydreaming - little snippets of that dream she had the other night grabbing her attention.

I've never been normal.

And I've never wanted to be.

Bette makes her way through the Titans locker room, smiling a bit at her logo (I have my own logo...) painted on the locker. It causes her to smile just a bit and it also sends her right back into the spin of thoughts in her head.
( Why is it all so confusing? )

"Yes... I know."

Bette holds her cell phone to her ear as she continues to walk through the park. This is her third circuit around the park on the phone with her aunt. She isn't at all sure how long she's been here. She's just glad that she was here and not at the Tower. This hasn't been the most pleasant of conversations.

"Aunt Kathy..." Bette pauses and listens to her aunt go off on another tangent. Raising a hand to her forehead, she lets out a small sigh. It always happens this time of year. Almost like clockwork, her aunt gets more concerned about her welfare and what is happening in her life.

It isn't really surprise, all things considered. It makes sense but it is annoying.

"Look, I'll come down and visit... I.. Yes. No." Bette pauses, "Just pick a date and I'll be there." She already knows what date her aunt will pick. As she starts to think about dates, she realizes that it is almost February.

Valentine's Day. She runs her hand through her hair again. She has no idea what to get Vic. She's so horrible at this whole gift /thing/. "Fine." Pause. "No. Really. It is fine. I'll be there. I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be there. You too. Bye."

Bette finds a park bench and sits down as she tucks her cellphone away, looking up at the sky.

There are bits of sky peeking through the clouds but it is still rather grey and cloudy here today. I wonder what it is like in LA.

I'm still trying to figure all of this out. I have no idea what was wrong with me coming back from Bludhaven. I don't normally talk to myself... not like that and what if I wasn't talking to myself? Who was talking to me?

I'm freaking out about that a bit. I'm not sure how to bring it up because... well.. There was a voice that suggested I try to sleep with Nightwing and it wasn't just me? Yeah. That's going to go over well. Sure.

Vic and I are going to go see a movie. It feels really... mundane. Of course, how mundane can it be with a guy who is mostly metal?

Left a messge for Guy. He's probably off flying through the stars or something interesting like that.

I need a girl friend to talk about this stuff with.

Flamebird made her way away from the kitchen and all of the people in there.

Normally, she's be trying to make connections, trying to get to know people, hobnob, but today that just feels wrong.

She's made her way out to a window and has been staring down at the planet. It's more like staring straight out at it. Down isn't really down here.

Sitting down in front of the window, she leans forward putting her hands against the glass and stares in silence.

She's not sure how long it has been since she saw the ring.

What she does know is that she's been here and doing this long enough that she's not going to be able to do it much longer.

To be honest, she never should have gotten up onto the uneven bars without a spotter in the first place but she does this stuff all the time out in the cities tens of stories above the ground. And that's /definately/ without a spotter.

Spin, spin, spin, release...... catch, spin, pause, spin, split, spin, spin, press to a handstand, spin, spin, release, catch......

Soon, she's going to have to stop, because otherwise, she's not going to be able to hold on to the bar when she needs to grab it.

A few more spins and she releases herself into the air, spinning, twirling and sticking the landing, raising her hands into the air out of habit, though there is no one watching.