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Terribly confusing. Awfully boring. Enma have thought, looking at recent photographs that someone have sent her. At some point she just wants to smash this God damn communicator. Just throwing it against the wall is everything she wants, but... then she will have to bother with ordering a new one. Outcast sighs, looking up at ragged low ceiling. Then she would close her eyes and take a deep breath, coping the annoyance. Falling onto the chair, she would open yet another bottle of an iced tea. Enma was trying not to think about anything, knowing that she could explode in hysteria from basically anything.

Despite having a great ride in summer, Loyola have failed to simply relax and retire. She was trying to find some hobby, a lot of times in fact. But nothing seemed to be hooking her up. Enma clearly doesn't know what she needs. And having a lot of energy really did not help in this situation. Persistent memories are also following her. All the potential that was there and how it got wasted. From time to time hate towards long gone enemies would start flaming in her heart. And opposite feeling to those who she liked. But then it all mixed in one, because of all betrayals and conflicts with her friends and allies, that eventually came to be.

Constant drug and alcohol intoxication did not help her fried brain to process it all. She thought that this actually might be the reason of this state of mind, but she could not, or rather didn't want to deal with this addition. Her thinking was now way too fragmented. She could keep up in one train of thought more or less, but her manners became even more excentric than before.

Then sudden thought came in like a lightning. THE BOTTLE! As Loyola still could not relax, she still wanted to throw something... somewhere. Squeezing half empty bottle, staining her chair and furniture, she throws it against the wall. Wide and wicked smile suddenly appeared on her face as it slammed in. Something have blinked in her eyes as she now wants to destroy something, if not everything. At the moment she even looks like a little girl playing a villain.

Series of major political and personal defeats in the past went hard on her. It's not like she was blaming herself, never. But it still, it bothers her all the time. It was driving her mad when she thought of the relieve of her enemies when she went low and stepped out of business. It doesn't have to be like this. Won't be like this. It will get fixed one day. All of it. Enma thought, believing in a miracle. Sitting here, on New Paris and watching her Gallic patrons losing a war.

Desire to destroy everything in an act of revenge slowly went down. As did Enma, she did not even notice as she appeared on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover up. Not bothering to pull off her cloths, she was slowly falling asleep. Some thoughts were still striking her inflamed mind, but desire to sleep was stronger this time. It were all just her thoughts, here in a little room. And to the world, nothing happened.