Eyes of a Tragedy

She woke up that morning with the buzzing of no minds in her head and a cat on her face. "Seriously," Kerrigan told Mustang, blinking a little, "You've got issues." She rubbed at her eye, once, palm-first, then reached over in a desperate attempt to shut off the damn record player.

It was getting the hell on her nerves, as much as the loud clattering noise of the bottles as they fell to the floor. "Fuck," she muttered, under her breath, then slipped out of bed, padded into the living room, and opted to do the morning exercise before coffee.

It wasn't going to do wonders for her mood. She just felt like bruising something.

[ open with weetiny OCD-- easy-A getters (or other visitors) in the first thread! ]

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 ]

She had explosion-proofed, people-proofed and squirrel-proofed making everything happening in that particular room NFB the blocked-off bedroom, which she had started mentally referring to as her command centre already. Work was almost finished on the basics: Kerrigan had already begun calibrating scanners to alert her if the Warp Gate reopened. At this rate, in a few weeks, she could get started on communications.

And then she'd had the stellar idea of using one of the - antique - computers she'd installed to work on next week's class. Tamper with the sim plans a little, remember her own path on her first mission on Antiga, project a few things... That had lasted about ten minutes before she marched out of the room, pulled three beers out of the fridge, and collapsed on the couch.

Two weeks was just not long enough to forget Antiga Prime.

She started drinking before she did something stupid like wonder if she ever would.

"Ghosts never stop thinking, Mike. Biggest truth I've ever told. Like it matters." Because thin air and empty space made for great conversationalists. "Heh." At least being alone meant her mind wasn't serving up any extra background chatter.

[ open if you want to deal with the totallynot!emo; yay extended canon! ]