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Oct. 24th, 2012 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acalltoarmsThe thing about the station--no, there were many things about the station most fucked up and all of them frustrating--but this particular thing was that it was quiet. There was the almost silent but ever-present hum of engines or air filters or whatever, but not much else. She missed the sounds of the city's rumble of traffic, just the sound of people living their lives. Here you got that in snatches of conversation with people, but folks tended toward the solitary. Which, you know, when your friend might get shot and die then come back without knowing you, well, maybe that was a good idea. Lonely, though.
She missed Bette coming to poke Kate out of mopey solitude. She missed Maggie. She missed her father so much it ached, missed him more than she was angry at him. What she got instead was the quiet.
Her leg was still giving her trouble which prohibits much hard training, and there were only so many ways to occupy herself. Currently she's camped out in one of the common spaces near the living spaces sitting on the floor in front of a low table. Her communicator played some rockabilly tune by a band she's never heard of.
A dozen different nail polishes spread out in front of her, some glittery and others jewel tones, plus other fancy manicure accoutrements. Kate's always kept her nails short for obvious reasons, but they've got a little longer lately.
She hummed idly as she worked on her nails. All told, it wasn't an intolerable way to spend an afternoon and push the quiet away for a few more hours.
She missed Bette coming to poke Kate out of mopey solitude. She missed Maggie. She missed her father so much it ached, missed him more than she was angry at him. What she got instead was the quiet.
Her leg was still giving her trouble which prohibits much hard training, and there were only so many ways to occupy herself. Currently she's camped out in one of the common spaces near the living spaces sitting on the floor in front of a low table. Her communicator played some rockabilly tune by a band she's never heard of.
A dozen different nail polishes spread out in front of her, some glittery and others jewel tones, plus other fancy manicure accoutrements. Kate's always kept her nails short for obvious reasons, but they've got a little longer lately.
She hummed idly as she worked on her nails. All told, it wasn't an intolerable way to spend an afternoon and push the quiet away for a few more hours.
