Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2013 10:03:10 GMT -8
Sig entered his quarters and stretched his back before wandering into the kitchen, opening the fridge, staring, closing it, and wandering into the bathroom. He turned on the water and let it run for a second, then shucked his clothing and stepped into the downpour of glorious water. It was hot. Very hot. The steam rose up around him and he breathed deeply. He was angry at the universe. Angry at a life that would create a tiny soul who would have to struggle from the minute it was conceived. Angry that he couldn't fix it. He rubbed the soap rapidly over his skin, creating a frothing lather that covered his quickly reddening flesh. Sticking his face under the stream, he turned and let the water run through his pale hair. Using the same bar of soap, he rubbed it all over his head, then washed away the lather.
As he dried himself, he gritted his teeth together. Though the water had cleansed his body, it couldn't do the same to his troubled mind. Picking up his clothing, he padded naked through the living room and into the bedroom. Tiria's absence was almost palpable to the man. He tossed his dirty clothing into the recycler and quickly dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt that sported the emblem for his family's adventure company.
Back in the kitchen, he again opened the fridge, stared, and closed it again before approaching the replicator. "Coffee, Ericson style," he said. The replicator soon produced a very large mug filled with steaming, black coffee, extra strong. Plopping down on the couch, he stretched out his long legs and placed his heels on the table in front of him. "Somedays," he sighed as he closed his eyes. "Evil wins."
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As he dried himself, he gritted his teeth together. Though the water had cleansed his body, it couldn't do the same to his troubled mind. Picking up his clothing, he padded naked through the living room and into the bedroom. Tiria's absence was almost palpable to the man. He tossed his dirty clothing into the recycler and quickly dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt that sported the emblem for his family's adventure company.
Back in the kitchen, he again opened the fridge, stared, and closed it again before approaching the replicator. "Coffee, Ericson style," he said. The replicator soon produced a very large mug filled with steaming, black coffee, extra strong. Plopping down on the couch, he stretched out his long legs and placed his heels on the table in front of him. "Somedays," he sighed as he closed his eyes. "Evil wins."
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