The Cape Rouge, Friday Noon

It had taken a couple of weeks of slow-going work, but Octavia's new drum room (or maybe music room? or maybe they would just end up referring to it as simply 'Octavia's cabin'?) was finally just about finished. The biggest and lengthiest part had been installing the soundproofing - including in some spots, re-installing it after she'd fucked it up the first time around. She'd wanted to do it all herself because it just...

Well, it just felt like something she needed to do by herself, for herself.

(For the one here right now, and the one who was long gone.)

This morning, she'd finally set up the drum kit, complete with the replacement parts she'd hauled back from the mainland a few weeks ago. She'd even made as much of an effort to sort of sea-proof it a little as she could, to minimize everything sliding around in case of a major storm, or if they took the Rouge out of port sometime.

But now she'd done all she could. And she was sitting on the floor next to the partially open door, admiring her work.

(Someone more mean might have called it stalling.)

[ooc: Open for the other people living on this rust bucket.]