okteiviakom: ([spec] emotional intimacy)
Octavia's sleep had finally been a dreamless one. At least as far as she could remember, and that was good enough for her. She'd spent the last several nights repeatedly waking up in terror, so it seemed like a win when that didn't happen.

And now it was morning, but she wasn't in a rush to leave the bed. Instead, she was running her fingertips feather-light over the tattoo on Duke's shoulder.

Tracing the butterflies.

[ooc: For that guy.]
okteiviakom: ([spec] the boat)
Octavia had spent most of yesterday out in the woods. And then, although she'd been home on the Rouge for dinner, she'd chosen to sleep over on her own boat, instead. It hadn't saved her from the nightmares - so much blood, and so many people telling her she wasn't worth anything - but it had saved her from unwillingly bleeding any trauma onto Duke, so... Win?

It didn't feel like one.

And now it was morning, and still kind of groggy and exhausted, Octavia had just climbed up onto the deck of her boat, with a bottle of water and whatever snacks she'd had stashed away, for breakfast. She looked up at the sky. All those clouds did not bode well.

Edward and his crew had had the right idea, getting the fuck away from the island.

[ooc: So open! ETA: content warning for (remembered) cannibalism, self-harm and suicidal ideation.]

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Octavia Blake

April 2025

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