Octavia Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
okteiviakom) wrote2026-04-25 02:05 pm
okteiviakom) wrote2026-04-25 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
The Deck of the Cape Rouge, Early Saturday Morning
As soon as Octavia woke up, just a little too early for a Saturday morning, she knew the pollen was gone again. Nothing buzzed incessantly under her skin, and her partners looked only the usual amount of attractive to her. (Not that 'the usual' wasn't in itself a considerable amount, but, you know.) Everything seemed... calm.
Except for her ability to get back to sleep.
So Octavia got up, quietly. She got the coffee machine running in the galley, and then grabbed one of their yoga mats to take up on deck with her. But then she got up there, and found out she wasn't alone. Someone else was just crossing the gangplank. A teenager, dark hair, even darker clothes.
Octavia's heart skipped a beat. She stopped in her tracks.
"Ha yun, nomon," Rory said, with a crooked smile, a hint of teasing in it. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Maybe it felt like it, too. The long summer last year had been hard, and even though at the end of it, the Rory that had been around but convinced she was the daughter of the detective and a deadbeat Lucifer had reverted back into their Rory, the memories of her rejection of all of them (and not even recognizing Octavia and Duke) had weighed heavy on Octavia's mind. Still did. You couldn't always rationalize your way out of a wound like that.
But maybe you could overwrite some of it with a weekend.
Octavia shuddered, then launched herself at the girl, grabbing her in the tightest hug possible. Rory made the requisite gently affronted teenage noises about her being ridiculous, but still hugged her back just as tight.
It was, after all, nice to be loved. Even by the weird young versions of your parents.
[ooc: Open for the usual folks, brains and time and all that allowing.]
Except for her ability to get back to sleep.
So Octavia got up, quietly. She got the coffee machine running in the galley, and then grabbed one of their yoga mats to take up on deck with her. But then she got up there, and found out she wasn't alone. Someone else was just crossing the gangplank. A teenager, dark hair, even darker clothes.
Octavia's heart skipped a beat. She stopped in her tracks.
"Ha yun, nomon," Rory said, with a crooked smile, a hint of teasing in it. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Maybe it felt like it, too. The long summer last year had been hard, and even though at the end of it, the Rory that had been around but convinced she was the daughter of the detective and a deadbeat Lucifer had reverted back into their Rory, the memories of her rejection of all of them (and not even recognizing Octavia and Duke) had weighed heavy on Octavia's mind. Still did. You couldn't always rationalize your way out of a wound like that.
But maybe you could overwrite some of it with a weekend.
Octavia shuddered, then launched herself at the girl, grabbing her in the tightest hug possible. Rory made the requisite gently affronted teenage noises about her being ridiculous, but still hugged her back just as tight.
It was, after all, nice to be loved. Even by the weird young versions of your parents.
[ooc: Open for the usual folks, brains and time and all that allowing.]
no subject
He should have remembered what often happened next, but he didn’t. Not until he came on deck for morning boat chores and saw Octavia clinging to someone.
“Rory!” He couldn’t hold back his broad grin. Not that he tried to. “Kiddo! It must be prom season.”
no subject
Because she was too cool for prom, etc etc. Octavia made a strangled noise that sounded like a laugh, but didn't say anything for the time being. (Still clinging. She'd give it up in a second to give Duke his turn.)
"Hey, dad."