okteiviakom: ([neg] shattering glass)
Octavia should not have been staring at her phone. For one, as the clinic had so helpfully confirmed yesterday morning, she had a concussion. Not a very severe one, but enough of one that she could look forward to some symptoms for the next while, such as general grogginess and light sensitivity, both of which were hitting her hard today.

Her phone's screen felt very bright indeed.

And for another reason... It didn't help anything. She could see the last text from Duke - just the word 'perfect' - hanging at the end of the text chain, like an accusation, like an unnecessary reminder of just how far from that they'd ended up in the span of just a handful of days.

The cursor kept blinking in the new message field, and Octavia kept typing and erasing messages, and each one felt more hollow and inadequate than the last.

Are you okay?

I'm so sorry

Can i come home

There was nothing she could say to make this better. And even if there was, Octavia knew she couldn't say it over text. But right now, that was all she had. Just a little field to type her futile gestures in while she gave Duke space to be free of her and the destruction she brought with her. Maybe if she kept trying, she'd find something actually worth saying.

Her eyes hurt, and so did her head. But not enough to stop just yet.

[ooc: Open, if you dare.]
okteiviakom: ([neg] aww shit)
It would have been an overstatement to say Octavia had been sleeping well over the last couple of weeks. Although she slept a lot, her sleep had tended to be fitful, restless. But, so far, whenever she actually managed sleep, it had been of the exhausted, dreamless kind.

As Sunday turned into Monday, her luck on that front finally ran out.

And she was back in the gorge. )

It wasn't a scream, out in the real world. Octavia had spent too long under everyone's constant attention to let her guard slip that far down even as she slept. It was muffled, more like a whimpery mumble.

"Ilian, no --"

And she was fidgeting. Still felt like she couldn't move.

[ooc: For that guy in the bed. Content warning for some gore under the cut. ETA: Extra content warning for the thread for vague suicidal ideation, talk of past NPC deaths and probably various other sensitive subjects.]

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Octavia Blake

April 2025

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