Envy's Soon-To-Be-Former Duplex, The Hegemony Compound, Brazil, Sunday
Envy shouldn't have even been here anymore. The plan had been to be out of the Compound days ago now, but then world events had meant increased security and a lockdown, which made moving out quite more of a hassle than she'd anticipated.
Still, her duplex was bare now. Stripped down to what was staying behind, down to the things that weren't actually hers. Her photographs and notes had been taken down from the walls, her books and records packed away, her keyboard in its case.
(The piano was hers, yes. But it was staying here. For now, at least. Don't ask her why; maybe it was collateral. Or maybe she didn't feel like lugging it back home when she didn't really know where home was going to be soon, and her parents already had a piano.)
Everything looked impersonal now. Nothing really betrayed she lived here, or had lived here. She might as well have walked into a showroom apartment and sat down on the couch with a cat in her lap. Nothing much to show the personal connection she had to the press conference footage she was watching now, either.
Except. "Of course he's not eating anything," she murmured to Mr. Moxy, while scritching him behind the ears. "Peter, don't be an idiot."
[ooc: NFB but can be open!]
Still, her duplex was bare now. Stripped down to what was staying behind, down to the things that weren't actually hers. Her photographs and notes had been taken down from the walls, her books and records packed away, her keyboard in its case.
(The piano was hers, yes. But it was staying here. For now, at least. Don't ask her why; maybe it was collateral. Or maybe she didn't feel like lugging it back home when she didn't really know where home was going to be soon, and her parents already had a piano.)
Everything looked impersonal now. Nothing really betrayed she lived here, or had lived here. She might as well have walked into a showroom apartment and sat down on the couch with a cat in her lap. Nothing much to show the personal connection she had to the press conference footage she was watching now, either.
Except. "Of course he's not eating anything," she murmured to Mr. Moxy, while scritching him behind the ears. "Peter, don't be an idiot."
[ooc: NFB but can be open!]