"That'd be inconvenient, yeah."

"Well, see you around someplace else!"

And she heads off back home to fall face first into the nearest soft surface.

"See you!"

They'll be doing much the same, honestly.

She gets up. She goes to work. Rinse. Repeat.

Things are relatively normal, the level of hectic things usually are. Her coworkers are split between considering the whole chair incident stupid or heroic, with a slight lean towards heroic. (She stays out of it. The attention is a bit much for her.) There are some good natured jokes about her menacing things with chairs.

Even that quietens down. On the outside, things look normal, go back to normal.

On the inside-- If you'd asked her before whether she would be a weapon or a wielder, she'd point out most people were neither. If pressed ('Come on, you know what I mean') she'd say she'd be a wielder. She could lead, she was active, of course she'd be a wielder. She wasn't the sort of person you could wield.

Except, apparently, not.

She was apparently very wieldable! And she-- she liked it! She was powerful, in a way she wasn't otherwise! She could do things she couldn't otherwise. All for the low, low price of being used.

GAH.

It occurs to her, belatedly, that maybe Lianne has some idea of how to deal with this-- stuff. But she probably has enough on her plate. Probably doesn't need newbie weapon existential crises on top of it. 

After a while, Louie will get a text.

'Hey. It's Lianne. From the dunj. I know we haven't talked. But - I don't really know who to go to.'

...and now she feels kinda bad for not initiating contact earlier. Bit late for that, though.

"What's happened?"

"I'm leaving Marian. Marian's actually letting me go, but... I don't have money or friends, and I'd rather not go back to my family."

WHAT.

"That's... not good. I have room at my place, if you need somewhere to stay."

She has a couch, and not a great one-- eh, she'll sleep on the couch. Lianne can have the bed. Only seems fair.

"Thanks. It means a lot."

"It's only fair after the help you gave me."

"Still."

A pause, before: "I can text you my location?"

"Sounds good. I can come pick you up."

She texts her location, with another "Thanks."

She drives over.

Lianne's waiting with a small suitcase and a rather full backpack, sitting on a bench at a park near a lot of nicer residential areas, but also a lot of bus lines.

She steps out of the car. "Hey." She nods at the bags. "Need help with those?"

"I got it. But thanks."

She opens the trunk of her car. It's a little hatchback, that's alarmingly close to being able to graduate highschool, but it still runs fine-- and despite the teensy trunk space, can fit a backpack and a suitcase.

"Are you doing okay? --well, as okay as is possible, in the circumstances..."

"Yeah." They run a hand down their face. "It's complicated, but yeah. I think, at least. Just... Need room to breathe?"

"Okay." She tries to keep her opinions on people kicking people out of their houses to get 'room to breathe' out of her voice. (She does not succeed.)

Awkward shrug, and they load their things into the car.

She steps in the car. "So... other than that, how's life been treating you?"

"It's been an adjustment? Things have overall been better than they were, but - I haven't been in a dunj since I met you. Feel surprisingly restless..."

This is a really stupid thing to say. She should not say it.

It's not like she's been restless as well.

"We could go find one. I've got the day free."

Welp, she's said it now.

"Honestly? A distraction sounds good right now." They laugh a bit. "Maybe if it's an easy one we can see if we can wield each other."