Somewhere Between Rage and Serenity, Redux (Open, Jedi)
Feb 21, 2017 15:31:40 GMT -5
Ephelia Tierney likes this
Post by Serinn Sarkin on Feb 21, 2017 15:31:40 GMT -5
It was just after dawn on Corellia, and the apartment's lone occupant had only gotten to sleep two or three hours ago, though it was a very restless sleep. At some point, the sleeping woman had shoved the sheets covering her aside from all her tossing and turning, revealing a body hinting at time and energy spent keeping in shape. Elbow-length blonde hair spilled out across the pillows in disarray, though with every twitch of the woman's body, it too would shift position. As the minutes ticked by on the small antique-looking bedside chronometer situated on the nightstand nearby, the bed's lone occupant gradually, very gradually, began to breath faster - a clear sign that whatever she dreamed of was either good or bad. Though when the first pain-filled whimper spilled from parted lips and facial features slowly becoming more and more anguished as flashes of the past haunted her still, all these years later . . . it was clear that they were not pleasant dreams.
This state of steadily-increasing exposure that the demons of her past still haunted the woman, continued for almost another hour before she snapped awake, one hand lifting in a gesture indicating the harshly-woken individual thought it held a blaster, though Serinn soon realized that the weapon in question was holstered quiescently some twenty feet away on the other side of the bedroom. Sighing even as she slid her legs off the bed, the woman who considered herself a Hapan-born Corellian buried her face in her hands for another several minutes, tears leaking from sightless eyes and creeping out between fingers, even as previously-panicked breathing slowed to something approaching normalcy. Light filtered in through the slightly-open window shades, painting the room in flickers of illumination from the signs and lamps lining the nearby Treasure Ship Row.
Some of this light even touched upon the nightmare-disturbed bedsheets, and the full-length tattoo on her back that was very much in evidence, thanks to the clothing she'd worn to sleep. Finally her mind cleared, at least somewhat, and Serinn rose from a seated position on the mattress, padding softly in the direction of the kitchen with frazzled nerves . . . wearing only her underclothing that left little to the imagination but were infinitely more comfortable to her, as well as having been the now half-awake woman's preference for several years. In her melancholy state of mind, the distant sound of someone pounding on the door to a nearby apartment took almost a dozen minutes to register, though she changed direction when it finally did. Coming to a stop in the kitchen with one shoulder leaning against the wall, dull silver-blue eyes stared at nothing, deactivated as they were, as she grumbled in a voice gone hoarse from vocal outbursts of past anguish.
"Wish people would learn to be quieter around here."
As she began to make herself a cup of tea with an ease indicating long practice - despite her ocular implants being deactivated, Lira climbed up her leg to her favored perch on the half-asleep woman's shoulder, the Tailring curling her tail as much as she could around Serinn's upper arm. After a few moments, the beverage was done and consumed shortly after that, and she went about her business for as long as it took to shower and dress before stepping outside her apartment. Ensuring that the door was securely locked before continuing on, the lone blonde reached up to scratch the underside of Lira's jaw as she aimlessly ambled along the sparsely-occupied early morning streets of Corellia, with no set destination in mind.
As far as she was concerned, what would happen, would happen. As she had gleaned from her research growing up, the Jedi of the Old Republic had been known to say "It was the will of the Force."
This state of steadily-increasing exposure that the demons of her past still haunted the woman, continued for almost another hour before she snapped awake, one hand lifting in a gesture indicating the harshly-woken individual thought it held a blaster, though Serinn soon realized that the weapon in question was holstered quiescently some twenty feet away on the other side of the bedroom. Sighing even as she slid her legs off the bed, the woman who considered herself a Hapan-born Corellian buried her face in her hands for another several minutes, tears leaking from sightless eyes and creeping out between fingers, even as previously-panicked breathing slowed to something approaching normalcy. Light filtered in through the slightly-open window shades, painting the room in flickers of illumination from the signs and lamps lining the nearby Treasure Ship Row.
Some of this light even touched upon the nightmare-disturbed bedsheets, and the full-length tattoo on her back that was very much in evidence, thanks to the clothing she'd worn to sleep. Finally her mind cleared, at least somewhat, and Serinn rose from a seated position on the mattress, padding softly in the direction of the kitchen with frazzled nerves . . . wearing only her underclothing that left little to the imagination but were infinitely more comfortable to her, as well as having been the now half-awake woman's preference for several years. In her melancholy state of mind, the distant sound of someone pounding on the door to a nearby apartment took almost a dozen minutes to register, though she changed direction when it finally did. Coming to a stop in the kitchen with one shoulder leaning against the wall, dull silver-blue eyes stared at nothing, deactivated as they were, as she grumbled in a voice gone hoarse from vocal outbursts of past anguish.
"Wish people would learn to be quieter around here."
As she began to make herself a cup of tea with an ease indicating long practice - despite her ocular implants being deactivated, Lira climbed up her leg to her favored perch on the half-asleep woman's shoulder, the Tailring curling her tail as much as she could around Serinn's upper arm. After a few moments, the beverage was done and consumed shortly after that, and she went about her business for as long as it took to shower and dress before stepping outside her apartment. Ensuring that the door was securely locked before continuing on, the lone blonde reached up to scratch the underside of Lira's jaw as she aimlessly ambled along the sparsely-occupied early morning streets of Corellia, with no set destination in mind.
As far as she was concerned, what would happen, would happen. As she had gleaned from her research growing up, the Jedi of the Old Republic had been known to say "It was the will of the Force."
