Snippet #2456664

The previous night, after the awkward and abrupt end to their conversation, Tawny tried to sleep but no rest came to her. For the first time in her existence, she felt remorse and she couldn't stand it- the emotional pain wasn't something she enjoyed. To remedy this, she left her bed and went to the infirmary bathroom -ensuring Tarik didn't see her in the process; her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with the same dark gaze which she administered to everything. Unreadable. Emotion-free. Clinical.

With these traits, it was open to the viewer to interpret what they were able to and Tawny only saw an accusing glare from the woman in the mirror. It was horrible. It was horrible.. It was HORRIBLE.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed suddenly and raising her right arm a little behind her then, she brought it down just before the mirror. There was a crash and in her hand was a scythe; with the black handle sleek and long, perhaps as tall as she was; the metallic blade glinted dangerously as though crying for the spill of blood. Tawny's eyes ran over the shards of glass then over to the blade in her hand - her distorted reflection remained on the blade and given the stature of the weapon it perfectly reflected her neck. Maybe..a little nick wouldn't hurt..

Tawny turned the scythe so that the pointed tip pressed lightly against her neck and then.. she pushed it away from her. Tarik. What if he came in and saw her like this..?

No.. it would be unacceptable. Running quietly out the bathroom, she looked to his desk and.. saw him missing. Where did her Flyboy run off to? Had something happened? "H-Hello?" She called out in a soft voice, very much contrasting the prior volume. No response.

Taking in a breath, the girl nodded. She'd just have to find him herself.