29 Chimera Court, Friday Morning

Where the Queen of Blades usually slept, upstairs in a bedroom taken haughtily from her fellow tenants, there was now a little pile of blankets. Underneath them was a girl, twenty-something years old, curled up into the foetal position. She had her hands pressed to her chest.

She was sobbing quietly. The covers shook a little under the motion of it-- and the sound she produced was desperate, ragged, and very, very human. Somewhere in her psyche, an alien queen slept soundly, burrowed far away from the surface.

Eventually, her alarm rang, emitting the dulcet tones of a good Kenny Rogers number.

[[ open for housemates, sure ]]