The roof, Sunday late afternoon/early evening
Nadia hadn't been able to find everyone she had wanted to apologize to after the gremlin incident, yesterday. Part of her was saying that maybe finding River and apologizing to her might actually be more important.
But that just made her angry.
Her headache had grown steadily worse through out the day, and was now accompanied by an odd, anxious feeling and a rather unhappy stomach. Despite the heat and humidity, she headed up to the roof and threw her body into some of the practice routines she'd learned while she was gone.
She thought about the look on River's face when the knife had hit the painted octopus. It melded with the look on Roberto's when she had pulled the gun, with the look on Cesar's when he'd told her the news of Roberto's death, and the look on everyone's face here when she'd told them what she'd done.
It was stupid. It was a painted octopus. It could be fixed so easily, not like a human, who even if they could be fixed would just scar over, and show the wound forever. River had grieved so easily for a painted piece of wall and Nadia couldn't seem to get anywhere when she thought of killing Roberto. It wasn't fair.
She continued spinning on the rooftop, launching kick after kick after punch into the air and wishing there was something on the other end to resist the moves. Wishing she had a parachute to jump from the roof with, feel the free fall without worrying about the pain at the end.
None of the movements were ever enough and her headache just got worse and she grew dizzy and finally dropped to her knees, gasping for breath in the humid air.
[ooc: open, but responses may be slow as I attempt to do some laundry and such and then migrate over to where I'm house sitting for a month.]
But that just made her angry.
Her headache had grown steadily worse through out the day, and was now accompanied by an odd, anxious feeling and a rather unhappy stomach. Despite the heat and humidity, she headed up to the roof and threw her body into some of the practice routines she'd learned while she was gone.
She thought about the look on River's face when the knife had hit the painted octopus. It melded with the look on Roberto's when she had pulled the gun, with the look on Cesar's when he'd told her the news of Roberto's death, and the look on everyone's face here when she'd told them what she'd done.
It was stupid. It was a painted octopus. It could be fixed so easily, not like a human, who even if they could be fixed would just scar over, and show the wound forever. River had grieved so easily for a painted piece of wall and Nadia couldn't seem to get anywhere when she thought of killing Roberto. It wasn't fair.
She continued spinning on the rooftop, launching kick after kick after punch into the air and wishing there was something on the other end to resist the moves. Wishing she had a parachute to jump from the roof with, feel the free fall without worrying about the pain at the end.
None of the movements were ever enough and her headache just got worse and she grew dizzy and finally dropped to her knees, gasping for breath in the humid air.
[ooc: open, but responses may be slow as I attempt to do some laundry and such and then migrate over to where I'm house sitting for a month.]