The Roof, late Saturday night
Jan. 29th, 2011 09:58 pmRaven had been grateful for Karla's insistence that she stay with her once they returned to the dorms. The thought of being alone again terrified her. But her guilt and sadness made it impossible for her to rest, and since she didn't want to disturb Karla or Gabrielle's sleep, she slipped out of the room to find some place to meditate.
She didn't want to go up to her room; she had no idea what Ariel had been told about her disappearance or return and didn't want to frighten her by suddenly walking into the room. So she retreated to the roof instead. The black nightgown Karla had given her (her own, in fact, which had been left behind after Karla's Virgin Night) would have been little defense against the cold, so she'd taken the white cloak Sebastian had insisted she wear. She didn't like that it was his or that it was stained with Warren's blood, smeared there when she'd hugged Karla, but it was better than freezing.
She was back in Fandom, back home with those she loved, much as the memory of what she'd done to them tormented her. But people had died to bring her back, some willingly, some not. She hadn't asked for that, she never would have asked for that, and now she was scared what the dark magics used to resurrect her body might have done.
Her father was gone, but so was Azarath. Her friends were forgiving, but she could feel the tension beneath their words. Jono was afraid of her -- no, not her. Himself. And she was so weary of being used, by Sebastian, by Trigon, even by Azar.
She didn't know how to begin to make things right. So for now, she huddled in a dark corner of the roof and quietly cried.
[OOC: open! But emo girl is emo. ;) ]
She didn't want to go up to her room; she had no idea what Ariel had been told about her disappearance or return and didn't want to frighten her by suddenly walking into the room. So she retreated to the roof instead. The black nightgown Karla had given her (her own, in fact, which had been left behind after Karla's Virgin Night) would have been little defense against the cold, so she'd taken the white cloak Sebastian had insisted she wear. She didn't like that it was his or that it was stained with Warren's blood, smeared there when she'd hugged Karla, but it was better than freezing.
She was back in Fandom, back home with those she loved, much as the memory of what she'd done to them tormented her. But people had died to bring her back, some willingly, some not. She hadn't asked for that, she never would have asked for that, and now she was scared what the dark magics used to resurrect her body might have done.
Her father was gone, but so was Azarath. Her friends were forgiving, but she could feel the tension beneath their words. Jono was afraid of her -- no, not her. Himself. And she was so weary of being used, by Sebastian, by Trigon, even by Azar.
She didn't know how to begin to make things right. So for now, she huddled in a dark corner of the roof and quietly cried.
[OOC: open! But emo girl is emo. ;) ]