Octavia Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
okteiviakom) wrote2023-07-09 08:37 pm
okteiviakom) wrote2023-07-09 08:37 pm
Entry tags:
The Samsara, Saturday Morning
Octavia woke up with someone's arm resting over her side. Nothing unusual about that, really, or even about just any sign that she was sharing her bed with someone. So when she blinked her blurry eyes open and didn't see the bedroom wall on the Rouge but rather the drab beige of the interior of the Samsara, well, that was a sign that something was off.
It took her a moment to find her bearings, put everything together in her head, to remember yesterday and how it wasn't all just a dream. She managed to restrain herself into rolling around carefully to see that the arm belonged to Ilian. That Ilian was still here, peaceful and still and also faintly snoring.
Of course, she hadn't meant to sleep here. That much was evident even from how they were both almost fully dressed in their stret clothes as if they'd expected to go out at any moment, and then just... hadn't. Which was more or less what had happened. The boat was littered with takeout containers from most of the restaurants all across the island. What did you do when someone showed up from a post-apocalyptic world? You did your best to show them some of the good in this time, which in Octavia's case apparently meant focusing on the abundance of food, and the variety of it.
And as they'd eaten, they'd talked.
They'd talked a lot.
About everything.
About how things had gone after the conclave. About everything she could remember of what had become of members of Wonkru who'd been Trishanakru in the past (although she'd cut out some of the gore, when it was there). About her life on Fandom, complete with show-and-tell with all the little sentimental bits she kept on her boat (butterfly statues and pictures of various futures and ridiculous giant tulle boas). About his life on his farm, with his family, before ALIE and Skaikru and everything going to shit. All the things she hadn't had the energy or interest in asking about last time.
Making up for what they hadn't had on the Ground. Making up for what they were about to lose again all too soon, although of course Ilian was taking more of a 'grateful that it happened at all' approach against the way Octavia's pre-emptive grief tried to bubble up.
And somewhere in the middle of all the endless talking, laughing, crying, then talking some more, they'd both fallen asleep. Curled up a little. Not like on the farm, but close enough. Octavia knew this probably meant she had some explaining to do to Duke and Lucifer, but couldn't really feel too bad about it in the moment.
Watching Ilian's face in this moment was already crushing her heart over the thought of losing him again.
[ooc: Open, if you have some business on the lil' boat, or want to text or something.]
It took her a moment to find her bearings, put everything together in her head, to remember yesterday and how it wasn't all just a dream. She managed to restrain herself into rolling around carefully to see that the arm belonged to Ilian. That Ilian was still here, peaceful and still and also faintly snoring.
Of course, she hadn't meant to sleep here. That much was evident even from how they were both almost fully dressed in their stret clothes as if they'd expected to go out at any moment, and then just... hadn't. Which was more or less what had happened. The boat was littered with takeout containers from most of the restaurants all across the island. What did you do when someone showed up from a post-apocalyptic world? You did your best to show them some of the good in this time, which in Octavia's case apparently meant focusing on the abundance of food, and the variety of it.
And as they'd eaten, they'd talked.
They'd talked a lot.
About everything.
About how things had gone after the conclave. About everything she could remember of what had become of members of Wonkru who'd been Trishanakru in the past (although she'd cut out some of the gore, when it was there). About her life on Fandom, complete with show-and-tell with all the little sentimental bits she kept on her boat (butterfly statues and pictures of various futures and ridiculous giant tulle boas). About his life on his farm, with his family, before ALIE and Skaikru and everything going to shit. All the things she hadn't had the energy or interest in asking about last time.
Making up for what they hadn't had on the Ground. Making up for what they were about to lose again all too soon, although of course Ilian was taking more of a 'grateful that it happened at all' approach against the way Octavia's pre-emptive grief tried to bubble up.
And somewhere in the middle of all the endless talking, laughing, crying, then talking some more, they'd both fallen asleep. Curled up a little. Not like on the farm, but close enough. Octavia knew this probably meant she had some explaining to do to Duke and Lucifer, but couldn't really feel too bad about it in the moment.
Watching Ilian's face in this moment was already crushing her heart over the thought of losing him again.
[ooc: Open, if you have some business on the lil' boat, or want to text or something.]