Eyes of a Tragedy

She was looking a little lost in the middle of the empty hallway, the place she'd emptied some fifteen billion years ago. Kerrigan would've wrapped her arms around herself, but with the current state of--

She just didn't feel like it. She took a sharp breath, shot a look at the kitchen. Would her biology still allow for the usual? Or...

She stared warily at the edges of a wing. Crap. Crap.

[ open for one, plz ]

The square was large: so giant it could go on for full football fields in either direction. Perched near its center stood a giant statue, newly chiseled, with the features of an aristocratic, proud man-- Arcturus Mengsk-- set out with sharp, laser-burned detail.

Behind it, the spires of a dazzlingly new city reached for miles into the sky, gleaming with light. Ships shot through the air, weaving their way between them. The blue light of this planet's sun cast interesting lines on the windows.

And the square? The square was covered-- in flowers, in chairs, in people. A small platform sat in front of them, and behind it, a dais for some yet-unknown purpose.

It was a funeral, then; but for a funeral, there was a strange vibe of excitement passing through the crowds.

( Death was too silent; Lee had learned about being stoic, and to Roy, this was all too familiar. )

[ nfb, nfi, parts ganked from the end of StarCraft's Terran campaign, preplayed with by the AWESOME stupid_toasters, moonbrain_tam and light_a_spark and OOC-okay! ]

Another day at the office.

Kerrigan tapped the code in with a sigh, pulled the door open, and went inside. She slammed it shut behind her, leaning against the surface for a few precious seconds before moving into the kitchen to get something to drink.

She should probably get to work on her suit's maintenance program.

Sarah flopped down on the couch and stayed there.

[ open to one ]

Her fridge had been stocked up well enough, but Kerrigan had still found herself chowing back noodles more often than not over the past few days. Cooking just wasn't her strong suit, and she lacked the inclination to learn.

Christmas Eve had passed by unnoticed.

She was in the living room, running system checks on her armor and fiddling with the wires.

[ open to anyone who'd come bug kerrigan on christmas day; early due to sp later yay ]

She hadn't moved much since arriving home the previous night.

Curled up in a far corner of her own bedroom, Kerrigan was breathing in the silence like a lifeline, one ticking second at a time. Quiet. Quiet quiet blissful quiet. It had been such a rare commodity since over a week ago, when the buzzing had started.

The buzzing which almost collapsed her mind's grafted-on dampeners entirely. Adama had meant well, but taking her into an area full of sick people had not been the world's most brilliant idea.

Maybe someone should know.

But not now. Now the quiet had to soak into her bones again, let her take the reigns. Once she snapped out of this, she might worry about fleeting moments that might have hurt those she knew, but now...

Silence was almost back.

[ linkdroppy, but open if anyone wants to come by ]

After last night, Sarah Kerrigan knew it was right about time to reprioritize the details of her little home improvement adventure; the level of break-ins was staggering for an island of this size (she realised the irony of her presence in the house, but had no need of it). The moment permissibly modded Deadpool had left the house, she began work on an early warning system.

There were no missiles involved, and the house was starting to look a little empty (besides the ball pit) for all the retooling (read: stripping of items) she was doing, but safety measures came first.

[ open for someone who said they'd stop by, or anyone else who'd like to have a gun pointed at them say hi to the lieutenant ]