Saturday, 21 May 2011

Partitioned

Laria opened one eye, thought better of it and closed it. Her head throbbed painfully. This wasn't good. What had she been doing? What had caused her to get so drunk? She could remember... remember...

Oh.

She opened her eyes again, despite the pain. The glasses were still out. It had happened... he'd come back, holding the things she'd given him. The presents...returned. The future taken away from her. She'd had plans, ideas, schemes. Things she wanted to do... together. And they were all lies, built on lies. She'd been... flavour of the month. Nothing more. She felt used. Anger stirred within her, and she used it to haul herself upright.

If that future wasn't available to her, she'd make a new one.

She stood up, and stumbled rather to the mirror. A little red-eyed, mussy-haired and perhaps rather grey-skinned, but presentable enough. Every time he looked at her, from now on, and she would make sure he had plenty of opportunities... every time he looked at her, she would ram down his throat what he had thrown away. Screw him, screw his lies. Whoever it was that he'd gone off to be with, she wasn't worth half what Laria was.

That was it. That was the way to be thinking. And as long as she kept thinking like that, the kicking and screaming and crying and the big empty feeling in her stomach would stay an arm's-length away.

She only had short arms.

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Overhaul

This was, Laria decided, the second most exciting time of her life. The first most exciting time had been when she'd first qualified for pod pilot training. This was the second. Or maybe the third - entering Eve University had been a thrill too.

No. This was better. She had new quarters. Admittedly, at this exact moment, they were both semi-decorated and full of boxes containing things that she had ordered. Or, rather, things that she had probably ordered in a rather overenthusiastic and under-considered spending spree. Still, there was a balcony that looked out over the vast docking bay of the station, an entirely separate lounge cum entrance hall, two bathrooms (she wasn't quite sure the circumstances in which she'd need both, but it made for variety) and a kitchen with lots of space for baking.

And all of her new things were here too. The fact that she hadn't, technically, ordered a bed was a minor point when compared to the plate situation. Should nearly a hundred people come to visit, she had enough plates to feed them all.

This was probably an error, and she, rather regretfully, separated two of the plate boxes from the others and put them on the "go back with an apology" pile. And at the same time, she keyed the order for a bed, and then paused before pressing "submit".

Width... length... height... yes, all fine. Why didn't beds come with an "effective HP" measure, though? It would make decisions like this easier.