By the time Aeryn wakes up, there's not a trace that anyone else was ever there. Flightsuit, helmet, boots, gloves, one set of personal demons, all gone. However, there are subtle changes; changes that speak of someone leaving with determination. Aeryn has a blanket thrown over her, for one, and for another, her clothes are sitting in a neatly-folded pile on the chair.
The one new item in the room isn't even in the room.
The note hangs in the bathroom. It has been scrawled in messy Aurebesh on a torn scrap of flimsi, taped to the mirror at Aeryn's eye-level.
Nothing to say that it wasn't just a perverted dream. Yet, Aeryn knew it wasn't. She ran her fingers lightly over the folded clothes, despite Plourrs neatness, wrinkles remained; proof of the betrayal Aeryn had made to her sense of self.
And of course, when she walked stiffly to the bathroom; it stared her in the face. Accusing in it's stark simplicity, the note angered her. She couldn't have said why and her mind didn't register it until the mirror spiderwebbed, unable to stand up to the assault of her knuckles. A dozen replicas of her own accusing eyes glared back at her.
Aeryn stormed from the bathroom and ripped the blankets from the bed. In the aftermath of her rage, her legs buckled and she found herself kneeling in the middle of her coverlet. Her shoulders slumped and she forced herself to take a calming breath. There was no way to run away from this. Plourr had beaten her to it
( ... )
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The one new item in the room isn't even in the room.
The note hangs in the bathroom. It has been scrawled in messy Aurebesh on a torn scrap of flimsi, taped to the mirror at Aeryn's eye-level.
Have to go.
Thank you.
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And of course, when she walked stiffly to the bathroom; it stared her in the face. Accusing in it's stark simplicity, the note angered her. She couldn't have said why and her mind didn't register it until the mirror spiderwebbed, unable to stand up to the assault of her knuckles. A dozen replicas of her own accusing eyes glared back at her.
Aeryn stormed from the bathroom and ripped the blankets from the bed. In the aftermath of her rage, her legs buckled and she found herself kneeling in the middle of her coverlet. Her shoulders slumped and she forced herself to take a calming breath. There was no way to run away from this. Plourr had beaten her to it ( ... )
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