War's fallen queen
OOC: takes place after this and just before this.
If I close my eyes forever,
would it ease the pain?
Could I breathe again?
Maybe I'm addicted,
I'm out of control,
but you're the drug
that keeps me from dying.
Maybe I'm a liar,
but all I really know is
you're the only reason I'm trying.
I am wasted away,
I made a million mistakes.
Am I too late?
There is a storm in my head;
it rains on my bed
when you are not here.
I'm not afraid of dying,
but I am afraid of losing you.
-"Addicted"- Enrique Iglesias
Adira walked away after speaking to the Narn and a few others (Trakis included). It was merely a precaution. She wanted to believe Vir, that it had all been some freak accident. The question still remained, “Why had her vitals not set off the trap?”
Assuming it was an alien artifact, an alien would target danger. Centauri women rarely went forth in any number to attack. Perhaps then it was only set for male vitals, they being the Centauri threat to outsiders.
Her mind was racing through excuses. Adira desperately wanted to pretend, to convince herself that Mariel had not purposely injured Londo. After all he was about to give her what she wanted, a divorce, or as she would say “freedom”.
Adira sighed slumping onto the bed, her hands gingerly picking up the unfinished letter. The invitation to join her on Centauri Prime remained only half written and the words were now smudging from the tears speckling the paper. She looked up to the portrait still sitting on the chair. It had arrived only moments before she left for Earth. Seeing it brought an eerie feeling that it might be his last. She looked away as the crushing pain grew in her chest.
“Li watch over him, watch over my hearts my Great Lady.” It was a sorrowful whisper shrouded in a hopeless fear she had not felt since she was still a slave.
Her eyes drifted back to the portrait and the grief instantly consumed the last of her strength with it came the realization that she was about to endure “the lose” again. She fell on the bed, wailing into the blankets, her fists balled in anguish and frustration.
“Please not again.” She begged with no particular target save anything in the universe that might be listening, might save her from the pain.
If I close my eyes forever,
would it ease the pain?
Could I breathe again?
Maybe I'm addicted,
I'm out of control,
but you're the drug
that keeps me from dying.
Maybe I'm a liar,
but all I really know is
you're the only reason I'm trying.
I am wasted away,
I made a million mistakes.
Am I too late?
There is a storm in my head;
it rains on my bed
when you are not here.
I'm not afraid of dying,
but I am afraid of losing you.
-"Addicted"- Enrique Iglesias
Adira walked away after speaking to the Narn and a few others (Trakis included). It was merely a precaution. She wanted to believe Vir, that it had all been some freak accident. The question still remained, “Why had her vitals not set off the trap?”
Assuming it was an alien artifact, an alien would target danger. Centauri women rarely went forth in any number to attack. Perhaps then it was only set for male vitals, they being the Centauri threat to outsiders.
Her mind was racing through excuses. Adira desperately wanted to pretend, to convince herself that Mariel had not purposely injured Londo. After all he was about to give her what she wanted, a divorce, or as she would say “freedom”.
Adira sighed slumping onto the bed, her hands gingerly picking up the unfinished letter. The invitation to join her on Centauri Prime remained only half written and the words were now smudging from the tears speckling the paper. She looked up to the portrait still sitting on the chair. It had arrived only moments before she left for Earth. Seeing it brought an eerie feeling that it might be his last. She looked away as the crushing pain grew in her chest.
“Li watch over him, watch over my hearts my Great Lady.” It was a sorrowful whisper shrouded in a hopeless fear she had not felt since she was still a slave.
Her eyes drifted back to the portrait and the grief instantly consumed the last of her strength with it came the realization that she was about to endure “the lose” again. She fell on the bed, wailing into the blankets, her fists balled in anguish and frustration.
“Please not again.” She begged with no particular target save anything in the universe that might be listening, might save her from the pain.