Nope. Nope nope nope.

She orders a bunch of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, a big hot cocoa in a container to keep it warm, and looks for something like breakup music on her phone. She's breaking up with her old world and coping with the hurts it left her, and this is the traditional way to cope with a bad breakup.

And then she bundles herself up in a blanket on the couch in her nightie.

She can get a tub of quite splendid ice cream, together with a fantastic hot cocoa from a nearby cafe, and can quickly find an emotional, intense piece of breakup music using her phone.

As she bundles up, everything around Sable feels somehow considerate: the couch is soft yet supportive, the blanket has a reassuring weight and a cozy fleece layer on the inside, and the incredibly light and silky nightie feels utterly delightful against her skin. And the huge glass window of the main room makes it feel open and spacious, so Sable feels like she has all the space in the world, just for herself, in this private sanctuary.

She curls up and nestles into the coziness.

She exhales shakily.

A sniffle becomes a sob.

This...

Fundamentally, Earth societies mostly just aren't kind. They don't optimize for it. They don't prioritize it. The things they do that they claim are to help people are terribly broken and demotivational.

The US is not a society where it's okay to not be okay.

And...

She has not been okay in a very long time.

She bawls.

She's not okay. She doesn't know when the last time she ever was okay was.

She hurts.

Great, wracking sobs shake her body, tears roll down her cheeks, and she rocks.

Eventually the sobs die down, probably about when the ice cream and cocoa are arriving or a half hour after (she manages to put the ice cream in the freezer if she's still not ready to eat it when it shows up).

And after the sobs die down, she gets the ice cream back out, digs the spoon angrily into the tub, and huffs.

Fuck you, America. Fuck you, Earth. She has seen a world that doesn't suck, she lives there now, and she will never go back. 

America had no room to be a wrecked mess who needed time to figure herself out.

America was not safe to be trans in.

America had garbage for a social safety net.

America spent its time teaching everyone that their value was their economic contribution.

America gave no fucks about her or anyone else's happiness.

Earth and America, Sable has broken up with you, and she does not have high hopes that you'll ever get sane.

Fuck off, America. Don't call her.

Angry, huffy, pouty ice cream eating continues. So does the break up music.

The room, and everything in it, accommodates her. She has total privacy, so high up in the sky. The couch remains comfortable; the blanket reassuring. She has space, to sprawl out and be herself and make herself comfortable and sit any way she wants and stand up and spread out and never curl herself up or close herself off.

Sylvania sends a text to Sable. "I'm curious about how much better you're feeling, with just the clothes and electrolysis? Have you done any activities that made you feel better, or maybe tried on some lingerie that makes you feel sexy? In general, do you feel like you're getting chances to experience being affirmed and euphoric? Because I think you should make that a priority."

She sniffles curiously and looks at the text. Huh. Sylvania's a sweetie. And Sylvania is one of the people who encouraged her to lean into vulnerability more. Maybe....

She's nervous, but she sends sends a text back.

The clothes and electrolysis are helping bunches. Got compliments on being cute, made a friend or two, went scuba diving with a pretty girl. Went to yoga, which was pretty euphoric too. Was going to go to a dance class in a swishy dress after, but then the yoga instructor helped me spot that I'm kinda fucked up and traumatized from living on Earth for thirty-one years, so now I'm having a tearful "fuck you, Earth, I'm breaking up with you and never coming back" night, with ice cream and breakup music, as is the tradition of emotional girls having bad breakups where I come from.

You're really making me want to hug you! ❤️ Do you think you need any kind of help or support to deal with it? I'm sure your neighbors would be happy to do a support standby.

💜 Wouldn't say no to a hug. Support and hugs might help a lot, actually. Don't really know the neighbors yet, used to living in a world where unless you're incredibly lucky the neighbors are at best distantly tolerable. What's a support standby?

She sips her cocoa and eats more ice cream and listens to more breakup music and reminds herself that she never has to go back.

It's a weird kind of pseudo-RP? It's basically them pretending that you're sick, and need intensive care, and they're the nurses assigned to you. And basically they try staying out of sight, while being ready to jump in and care for you, or hug you, at any time? Most thomassians think it's really cute and fun, and it feels really nice to be there for people. And of course it feels fantastic to have their support and help and Supply.

That sounds incredibly sweet and adorable, and also my Earth trauma has me feeling really guilty and embarrassed about needing it, and about that being the reason why I'm introducing myself to my neighbors.

I think you should introduce yourself to your neighbors anyway? And mention the support standby more offhand. Wait, Sable. I want you to go through a real beauty routine, you had one of those "prescribed" by your tailor, right? and really check yourself out in the mirror, experiment with clothes. Because I think that wearing something that makes you feel amazing would make this much more comfortable, and that knowing that you're making a good first impression would be really helpful when it comes to having those gender euphoria feelings.

She looks around and gathers up the various beauty supplies her tailor picked out, looks at the beauty routine instructions, and starts setting things out in the appropriate order.

Okay, gathering everything for doing the beauty routine. How does a thomassian introduce herself to her neighbors? Is there a building-wide or floor-wide messaging system? Go knock on doors? Move the ice cream session to a common area?

Well, each building gets its own message-routing number? So if you send a message to your building's coordinates, in phone number form, you send a message to everyone living in that building. You're allowed to say that it's only meant for people on your floor and elevator landing, but they'll still technically be able to see it. Although the etiquette is deleting the message unread if you specify that it's only meant for people your floor+landing. Alternately, you're also free to knock on doors.

Okay, that's really cool. Thomassia continues to be saner than Earth in fascinating new ways. I'll send the building a message after I finish getting all done up to meet people. Would you recommend I floor-limit it? Also, how much do I explain about the "my home planet is a traumatic place and I have trauma from living there for the past thirty-one years" situation?

She slowly works through her beauty routine, everything from face wash to hair-styling to a bit of makeup and painting her nails. She picks out some really lacy lingerie, in black, and then starts looking through her closet to decide what outfit to wear.

I think you should floor-limit it, honestly. And I think that you should wait a moment with the home-planet thing. I suspect that they'd see it as a high-context RP thing they're not sure about how to deal with.

The beauty routine is careful and deliberate; all the products come in similar-sized thin pucks, designed to be stacked, and to use the top product before moving on to the next, whatever product remains on top being the next one to try. There's an anti-aging cream, some nutrient cream, an exfoliant, aloe... they do try to minimize the amount of products used, but they do end up with a fair few different products needed for a truly fantastic result. Because they're commodity chemicals, they are at least very, very cheap.

And once you're done, you can just put all the products you're using back, starting with the one topping the pile of products that you used before finishing your routine with the product at the bottom of your original pile.

The magic of thomassian design means that even Sable's laciest lingerie keeps her tuck at once supportive, flat and comfortable, with the alluring "lace-over-nude" colorscheme. And in terms of outfits, she has quite a few; a few different skirts, depending on her mood. And also that slinky red dress... but really, the options are near-endless.

Thomassia: kind of great.

And then she debates the outfits. Hmm. The swishy black pleated skirt, and the cream-colored poofy blouse, and maybe the piratical jacket overtop? She tries all that on and twirls.

Wow, she looks kind of pretty. 

Wow.

She snaps a picture of herself, curls styled lopsidedly to one side, bit of a daring grin on her face, skirt swooshed up just a little mid-twirl, and sends it to Sylvania. 

Okay. That sounds like a plan. How do I look?

You're a dime! Knock em' dead! ❤️

She sends a 💜 to Sylvania, then types up a text to the building.

[Floor 35 only please] Hi everyone, I'm Sable, the new girl in 3512, just moved in a couple days ago. Looking forward to meeting people. New to the area and don't have a lot of friends yet, so new friends are very welcome.

She looks over the message, waffles for a moment, then adds one more sentence.

(Coming off a bit of a bad time before I moved here, so hugs would be pretty great.)

Then she hums to herself. What if this is too much? Not enough? She screenshots the whole draft and sends the screenshot to Sylvania.

This look okay?

Yup, that's plenty! After sending that message, I recommend that you also walk around, knock on doors, and introduce yourself to people. Tell them you'd really enjoy doing some RP, and asking if there's any RP premises they want to try.

She sends the drafted message to the building, then sends a new one to Sylvania.

How do I tell which neighbors won't be bothered by knocking on their door?