[IC CONTACT POST]

[psychometer]

Lien here. If you got this message, I might have a raging headache or I'm working on something. Leave a message, I'll get back ASAP. *BEEEEEEEP*
[Text/Call/Video/Voicemail/Action]

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[Front door delivery, June 21st]

[congenialsinner]

[A bouquet of flowers and a card addressed to "Lien Kha" have been delivered to the front door. Inside, the card simply reads, "Happy Birthday." There's no signature; apparently the sender wished to remain anonymous.]

[June 21st Evening] (fixed for bad grammar hnngh)

[psychometer]

[Lien spent half of her eighteenth birthday resting from the ordeals of the past weekend. Her hair was still long thanks to the perfume effects, and it sprawled across her bed as she lay still, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

When she finally woke up, she opened the front door not expecting anything until she saw the card and bouquet. No signature on the card, but...

She only told a few people about her birthday.

She knew there was only one person who could have sent it anonymously, but all the same as she touched the card and traced the handwriting with her finger just to make sure who it was with her psychometry. She knew. The flowers were placed carefully inside a vase with some fresh water. But it was the anonymous card she clung to and it was crushed without meaning to; not because of malice, but because she couldn't even make sense of her own feelings anymore. She was supposed to be calm, sort out her thoughts, examine what was given to her and the intention behind it like a good psychic should. Don't be too attached, don't let yourself get hurt, don't invest so much in others when it could change all too quickly.

Lien wasn't a good psychic. She didn't know how she felt. She couldn't tell what was happening in her own heart. She didn't want to be angry and hateful, but for once it was too hard to be happy and brush off everything with a carefree smile she usually could muster up in the face of melancholy. Her strength had diminished. She thought she was strong. She thought she could make up for her weakness as an esper with a good heart, a heart that could be good to others in turn. She could be a strong minded person who made others smile instead.

But she didn't know if that was true anymore.



On her eighteenth birthday and for the first time since she arrived on the Thor the psychometer cried alone where no one could see her tears. She was eighteen years old, but still a shaking, sad, and insecure little girl who didn't feel strong anymore.]