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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a0cfec">《</span> <b>AVARIEN NARYA</b> <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a0cfec">》</span></span>​</div><div style="text-align: left"><span style="font-size: 10px"><ul>
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<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Most of all, Avarien was irked.  His entire being felt altered, his mind scrambling to make sense of what this powerful dark energy was.  It was obviously on the ship, though the fact that he hadn't sensed it earlier baffled him.  He had walked past the cargo hold many times, each time he had been perfectly fine.  Things felt normal.  Of course, as normal as they could when someone like Switch was on board.  Her being confused Avarien, as well.  Not only could he sense something wrong with her, but his elven instincts were telling him to drive something into her heart and bury her six feet under and just... leave her there.  Not that he'd ever actually do that; listening to his elven instincts did nothing but got him in more trouble than he managed to give himself without it.<br/>
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The second he heard the door pull open, Avarien lifted himself off the wall, his hands stuffed deeply into robe pockets.  Taking one glance at her eyes, he let his head slightly hang, eyes studying her shoes while he thought of how to word his next sentence.  He knew she knew what was coming, so there was no sense in wasting time.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a0cfec"><b>"There's something severely wrong with a shipping company if they can't even include instructions on what to, and not to do, with their cargo before it gets delivered."</b></span>  Shaking his head, he lifted it and stared at Switch, eyes narrowing seriously, any hint of playfulness or his usual stuck up mood untraceable.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a0cfec"><b>"What is it?"</b></span>  Nodding his head towards Karita's closed door, he didn't bother going into more detail.  She was smart enough to understand what he was asking.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a0cfec"><b>"And... how do we get rid of it?"</b></span></li>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#c11b17">《</span> <b>JASNA VON SEGUR</b> <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#c11b17">》</span></span>​</div><div style="text-align: left"><span style="font-size: 10px"><ul>
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<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Howl's frustration was more than obvious, but Jasna wouldn't listen to it.  Instead, she refused to make eye contact, her arms holding tight to hide herself from his eyes, feeling vulnerable and ashamed she had let things get that far.  It had been poor judgment, shoving all her duties and her responsibilities behind her, and allowing Howl to be the only thing that mattered.  It had been nice, for the few minutes it had lasted, but now that it was over, all Jasna wanted to do was move on.  It didn't matter how, but she couldn't stand feeling the heat his fingers had brought her, or the stinging arousal his lips had caused.  Maybe if they had gone the entire way, she thought, she wouldn't be regretting this so badly.  Either he had given her everything, or nothing at all.  Trying to handle an in between was chaos in her mind, and she had a feeling she'd have a harder time dealing with it now, than she would've if he had just remained in her dreams.<br/>
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She flinched when he punched the wall, but only because she hadn't been expecting it.  Jasna knew that Howl would never strike her and mean it.  He wasn't that kind of man.  Sighing, she lifted her right hand and pulled her patch off her eye, tossing it down on the bed beside her.  Blinking, she rubbed her eye softly, careful of the scared skin.  She could still a little from her left eye, though her vision wasn't one hundred percent.  Her iris was no longer red, the scar having permanently damaged everything, and instead was a cloudy gray.  Inhaling deeply, she stood, her hands pushing her hair out from her face.  Grabbing her breastplate first, she slipped it on and secured the buckles, her movements slow, inwardly really not having the energy to put herself back together.  Grabbing her hooded jacket and hanging it, she positioned herself in front of her only mirror and started to pull her hair back up into it's regular up-do.<br/>
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Once she was satisfied with her hair, she smoothed her hands down her stomach and nodded her head.  Ignoring her eye patch, she grabbed the tray of food she hadn't gotten to eat and started to carry it towards her door.  There was no point in throwing it out when someone could easily reheat it and eat it for themselves.  Opening the door with one hand, balancing the bottom of the tray on her other, she pushed into the hall and headed towards the Gallery, taking the long route in hopes to stay relatively alone.</li>
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