[The journal's been open for a little, but all Rachel's been doing is reading something, her head propped in her hand. Eventually, though, she stands up and moves to the window, picking up a small box and removing two candles from it. She places one in the center of a simple menorah set on the windowsill, the other in the far left holder, then picks up a box of matches. There's the familiar scraping against the box as she lights one, and then she begins to speak, to herself, as she lights the center candle.]

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us by His commandments, and has commanded us to kindle the lights of Hanukkah.

[She shakes out the match, then picks up the candle and moves it to light the second.]

Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe, who wrought miracles for our fathers in days of old, at this season.

[Pauses as she replaces the candle, looking down, then speaking the last part more quietly than the others - this part seems both highly ironic and surprisingly appropriate, this year.]

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has kept us alive, and has preserved us, and enabled us to reach this time.

[Since Luceti has no compensation for a holiday with different times every year, she just picked a day (and was off by one). Draco, Hisoka, Lloyd, Ted, Faith, Buffy, you all would have gotten small bags earlier in the day filled with cookies that don't look very impressive at all but taste decently enough.]

[Rachel can be found near the center of town, ducked against a building with both hands pressed to her head. While she isn't physically injured, she looks very much like she's living in a nightmare - which, for her, she is. And, seemingly without her controlling it, parts of her body are constantly trying to morph before she can reel them in: one moment she begins to sprout coarse brown fur, the next sees it disappearing, then her nose starts to protrude into a muzzle... Her instinct and her consciousness fighting it out.]

No... I won't, no way- y-you can't... GO AWAY!

[[OOC: Okay, basically they tried to reactivate all the Really Bad Rachel feelings she once had, the ones that she almost lost control of and nearly lost herself to the Ani-version of the overall Big Bad in their universe. She's resisting, a lot, and it didn't go completely through. She might, or might not, attack, depending on what's said/done. Fair warning.]]

[[ETA: Thread abandoned due to muse lockup.]]

[There's a clatter and a crash as something gets knocked over, journal falling open on the floor in the middle of the confrontation.]

-cause of that kitchen thing, isn't it?! I don't care, I'm not go-

[A smash and things fall quiet again.]

[Rachel is in the library after school, her journal open in front of her, another, smaller book open next to it, and two or three more scattered on the table in front of her (and her egg nowhere to be seen). She bites her lip and runs a hand through her hair as she reads, occasionally writing something on the journal's front cover, where she doesn't think anyone will see it unless they look really closely. She doesn't think it transmits, but she could be wrong.]

"If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles."

"If ignorant both of your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril."

"All warfare is based on deception."

"Opportunities multiply as they are seized."

"The purpose of all wars, is peace."

[and very small, at the very bottom]

"I want my friend to miss me as long as I miss him."

"Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?"

[Clearly someone's reading about war - and thinking a lot about it, if the quotes and the semi-frustrated expressions she's making are any indication. Finally she sighs heavily, pushing her hair out of her face and wishing she'd brought a ponytail holder, so involved in the actual reading-book that she forgets the journal is open.]

So what do you do after it's all over?

[Have a Shadow WITH NO MASK. So most people probably don't know who it is even if they do know him. Though "he" looks really, really, deadly serious about something.]

Whoever the hell has my body, I need to know NOW. Girl, sixteen years old, blonde hair, blue eyes.

I'm not kidding.

Least I can't say I've never been a human guy now...

[There is no way she's letting this experiment stick her as a nothlit.]

[Hello, Luceti.]

[There is now an elephant in your square.]

[Yes, an elephant. An elephant with tiny tiny wings.]

[Who is clearly pissed.]

< All right, whoever's in charge here has FIVE SECONDS to start explaining what's going on before I knock down a wall or four! >

[In reality, the elephant is a sixteen-year-old girl who's pretty damn scared, but she's not about to let that show. She'd had a job to do, and she remembers everything that came after that - and she knows she shouldn't be here, wherever here is. And she's yelling on the "open" frequency, so anyone within a reasonable distance can hear her, walls or not.]