Who: Octavia Blake {narrative} When: After waking up in quarantine Where: Quarantine What: Girl flips her shit Warnings: Pretty mild, some swearing, little bit of blood.
Life had never been kind to Octavia. She had been forced to live under the floorboards, to hide her very existence. Through that she learned to be quiet, to be perfectly still, to blend into the shadows. She learned how not to exist. Octavia Blake was the girl who should have never been born. Her birth had been considered a crime, one punishable by death. All for being second born. That life had long since been left behind, but never forgotten. It gave her a portion of the fuel she needed to lead her people in the bunker. She knew how to live under the floorboards, and so she had taught her people how to do so.
Six long years had passed since praimfaya. Six long years of continually proving herself, questioning herself and her actions, leading a people she had brought together. Octavia hadn’t wanted to be a leader. She had wanted to protect them. By being Heda kom Wonrku she had done just that. Perhaps they did not always see eye to eye, as people did, but Octavia had been careful not to let her guard down. Not even around those she held in close regard. No one could ever be completely trusted, she learned that years ago.
It was with a sudden jostle that she awoke in the strange room. It was much too clean, much too quiet. Octavia sat up, looking around suspiciously at this new, strange place. She didn’t recognize anything about it. Nothing was familiar, nothing smelled familiar. In fact, the smell of the place was almost sickening to her. There was no hearth to make a fire. There was no smell of smoke or the sound of crackling firewood. This room, whatever it is, was much too clean for her tastes. Immediately, she didn’t trust it. There was some sort of machine moving around the room.
What caught her attention was the sound of a woman’s voice. A smiling woman just outside the door. The woman began to explain the situation and something about a vaccination before being allowed out of quarantine. Sure, the woman’s tone was pleasant, friendly, understanding even. However, Octavia barely paid her any attention.
Octavia rushed forward and slammed into the door that kept her inside of the room. “What is the meaning of this!” she demanded angrily when it wouldn’t open. She pounded forcefully on the door in an attempt to break it down. She reached for her sword, but it wasn’t there. Dark eyes stared dangerously at the woman on the opposite side of the door. “Where is my sword?”
“I’m afraid all weapons are confiscated upon arrival. You’ll receive your sword upon exiting in a few hours. I’m Martha Jones, one of the doctors-”
“I don’t give a damn who you are,” Octavia breathed in a low, dangerous voice. “Let. Me. Out.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that until you’ve had the vaccination and have stayed in quarantine for at least four hours.”
Not what Octavia wanted to hear. She cried out and began pounding on the door once again. No amount of pleading from Martha could stop her. Octavia was getting out of there. She couldn’t be shut away again. She needed to free herself. She pounded on the door, her fists busting open so that blood began to splatter against the door as she hit it with as much strength as she could harness.
Octavia had forgotten about the robot, and she was too preoccupied to hear any warnings to stop. But that was quickly forgotten as everything went black.