Time To Go

Participants:

Jonavan.jpg

Date: 31 May 2011
Location: Jonavan's Room, Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Jonavan leaves Eastern Weyr. No goodbyes.
Rating: If above PG-13, please note here.
Logger: Jonavan

Warm citrine light illuminates this narrow room with several glows stationed at regular intervals along the length of one wall. A bed takes up the back, covered with red and navy blankets of varying weights. The chest at the foot of the bed is more a more delicately joined and planed piece of furniture than the rest of that in the room; bed, clothespress, table and chairs are all weyr-provided, sturdy and solid but nothing special. A drafting table takes a place of prominence in the middle, surface set at a slight angle. An armchair, comfortable but hastily upholstered, sits alongside a set of low bookshelves. The rest of the personal affects in the room suggest a man of solitary pursuits, beginning with a worn gitar leaned up in one corner. Along the right-hand wall above the glows, a pair of small botanical drawings have been mounted, details carefully represented in charcoal. The larger canvas stationed above the clothespress adjacent the door bears no such realism; therein, reds and blues find forceful expression.


Jonavan stood at the door and surveyed the small, narrow room that had been his for the past two Turns. The shelves that held his books and hides, the clothespress, the drafting table, the bed now stripped of its sheets and blankets. The old, cushioned chair beckoned still. But all the traces of him and his life at the Weyr were gone, packed in his battered trunk and already carried out. Just him, and the small satchel he reached down for now.

He disliked thinking that the people with the clues might piece his reasons for leaving together, might come to conclude that he was a coward. Or jump to the thought as he intended to leave without proper goodbyes. Worse was the idea of pity. He had thought he’d seen it in Indira’s eyes, mixed in with the understanding that sprung from her own ghosts.

He had valid reasons, of course. But though he’d tell everyone who asked in confident, cocky tones that this leaving was about the opportunity for promotion and a post he wanted more – nay, deserved – he forced honesty upon himself. He was running away. He’d go back and his sister would call him a miserable bastard, but he’d be only half the miserable bastard he would’ve been if he’d stayed.

He turned and walked through the open door, leaving it unlatched behind him. No need for locks, for there were no more secrets. He followed the glow-lit passage to its end where it emptied out into the bowl and did not look back.

It was time.


Soundtrack: Three Days Grace - Get Out Alive


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