knightexemplar

June 7th

This station had already made Arturia feel restless, useless and daft. Now she felt utterly powerless. Mister Bashir was nowhere to be found. Where she went searching the woman left a path of destruction in her wake. She tired of taking this welling anger burning in her chest out on training dummies, she needed to act. Action had taken her to the labs where the man had spent the majority of his time and action left a path of broken glass and bent metal as the blonde silently hurled one of the microscopes against the wall before turning on heel and leaving. Her expression was a callous mask.

Artifacts of the man that used to exist were all that remained. Notes and scribbles.

Next her footsteps took her to his room. The door slid open automatically which was a clear indication that the room was unoccupied. Open for someone else to settle down in. That was unacceptable. People were not replaceable and she was most certainly tiring of this station treating everyone as such.

Arturia stepped into the room and the door closed behind her with a soft huff. Her eyes searched the room carefully. Every detail felt so… default. Not a trace of the man that used to be here was left. She moved to the drawers, pulling each one of them open carefully. Not one of the drawers had anything in them. The closet was filled with the standard clothing, all of it new and untouched. His communicator was even missing. She approached the console on the wall and asked it one question.

“Where is Julian Bashir?”

The screen blinked a moment then pulled up information on a city in a land called Bali. She asked again and it pulled up an Bollywood film. She asked a third time and the screen once again pulled up something irrelevant in the form of another television show. Her frustration with the situation had hit its peak and she slammed her fist into the screen. This managed to both crack the screen and split her knuckles on the glass. This threw her into what amounted to a hissy fit.

Unfortunately the standing lamp in the room was the target of her ire as she ripped it away from the wall and threw it into the monitor. The screen shattered and sent glass and sparks around the dresser directly below it. The lamp broke into two pieces, one left sitting on the top of the dresser and the other bent and lying on the floor.

She trailed blood over to the bed before tugging one of the pillowcases off of the bed to wrap her hand in while she went searching for the first aid kit. A slight frown touched her lips as she left the room in disarray. She looked over her shoulder briefly thinking that this would look negative if someone came to use this room before deciding she really didn’t care. Her boots passed the threshold to the room and carried her into one of the recreation rooms. She remembered Gaius pulling a first aid kit out there when he had broken a glass.

Surprisingly the replicator complied with her requests for a bottle of Brandy and water. She returned to her room with the bottles and the first aid kit. Her door closed with the same soft huff every other door on the station seemed to have. The woman was suddenly tired, the whole situation was bothersome.

They all needed to find a way off this station before anyone else vanished.

Arturia had arrived fairly early to help with the party preparation. She mostly kept to moving things around, picking up items and pushing tables either out of the way or into a neat line for the food everyone was going to be bringing. The woman was staying away from decorating of any kind. That was not an art which she would call her forte. Far from it, actually. She could definitely respect and even appreciate the finer details that were being placed on each table (she would have never thought that table cloth color was something one needed to attend to but, there it was, something which was being fussed over).

With nothing left to move and the preparations well on their way, Arturia moved to the side of the room near the door. She was dressed in the standard issue cotton pants, black shirt and sweatshirt with her hair tied back. The black ribbon securing her hair in place hung loosely at the nape of her neck.

She leaned carefully against the wall with her arms loosely crossed, quietly waiting for the Lady Violet to conclude the items that she needed to finish before the party that evening. The woman wasn’t someone whom Arturia had yet met but she was definitely grateful for the offer to let her into the wardrobe room for the evening’s festivities.

There was definitely a knot in Arturia’s stomach. She hadn’t been to a formal party in years and every time she attended one she always felt awkward and out of place. She sighed softly, why had she volunteered to go to this again?