<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://www.fashiongonerogue.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/nicole-meyer-model03.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Yolande Solomon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Yolande's Room<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sept. 6th, 6:50 pm<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Salem Summers<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Being uncharacteristically polite<br/><hr/><br/>Yolande simply lounged about until she was eventually handed the pen and paper. When she took it she wrote out a handful of makeup and bathroom products she could use a bit more of. For once she didn't flood the page. The promise that she'd eventually be able to contact home was enough for her, she'd have everything she could possibly need then. She'd just nodded along as Salem had talked to her. The pen and paper was kind of sweet, and Salem overall seemed vaguely 'cute'. Not in a way that appealed to Yolande, nobody did, but she saw her like a puppy that was eager to do a good job. Best not to share that thought, though.<br/><br/><strong>"Thank you, I'll note down a few things but mostly of what I need can come from home."</strong><br/><br/>Yolande sat up a little bit and turned to face Salem, who seemed to have moved to a more personal conversation path. This one was some kind of vague effort at helping Yolande calm down. She hated to confessing to the emotional problems she suffered from, but after her outburst denial would make her look outright stupid. If there was anything worse than being depressive and erratic, it was being stupid.<br/><br/><strong>"I've been trapped here a few days, and I haven't had what I imagine counts as a good start."</strong>Her emotions were unreliable at best right about now, and there was no point pretending things had started off ideally. It had been hard to adjust, and this was a life wildly different to what Yolande had ever been used to. But the people around her had suffered far more, and they appeared to have control. She should be able to hold herself better, and carry herself with more class. "Hopefully I'll get used to it. I promise I can do some things that aren't violent." She realised her words sounded a little flirtatious given her situation, but she only meant it as an effort to point out that she did have some calmer talents.<br/><br/>She'd like to sing, at some point. Music was by far her biggest typical talent, and perhaps it might raise a few people's opinions of her. At least she'd be seen to be capable of maintaining calm. That and she did like to show off, it was satisfying to be a center of attention. Perhaps she'd find time to sing in an evening. That could be nice.