It ends and Begins
It Ends and Begins
Summary: Richard Duke's last day in Picon
Date: 22/Nov/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: 'None'
Duke 
Picon, near CFAB Hermes
A day before Orion's initial departure.

The last day of Richard Duke in Picon, before leaving towards the spaceport, to catch the shuttle that would take him far away, far far away.

VVVVBEEP-VVVVBEEP-VVVVBEEP-VVVVVBEEP! Would be the rather annoying sound (along with vibration included) of an alarm clock that is promptly slammed down by a hand that doesn't hit the mark right away, blindly hitting and thrashing over a small night table in order to find the torture device. Slowly blinking his eyes open, Richard Duke starts seeing the picture in front of him, at least the blurry picture at first. He takes a deep breath and rolls on his side, using his elbow to raise himself and rub his eyes without yet knowing how miserable he looks right now.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, thinking to himself 'Five more minutes', but there's no time, there's a place he needs to be at. With his eyes still closed, he shifts on his bed and sets his feet on the floor, standing rather quickly, bringing an interesting degree of dizziness that finds him stumbling forward, placing one foot on top of an ambrosia bottle, tilting it, spilling some of the content on the carpet as he falls forward. One knee goes to the floor while his right hand lifts itself, looking for something to hold on to. It's a shame that he finds a bookcase shelf that cracks under the pressure and finally breaks, letting a series of books and small statues fall on the ground.

The man stops himself, knees on the floor and he just lifts his arms as a silent commanding motion for himself 'STOP, you damn FOOL' goes over his mind and he waits there, giving himself a few seconds to find his center again. One more time he opens his eyes and looks at the scene around him, the bottles, the glasses, all the clothes on the floor that signal he hasn't been putting a lot of order in the place.

He finally stands up and rubs his face with both hands, sliding his fingers in his hair and running them all the way towards the back of his head as he keeps studying the view, shaking his head to himself. With great care, he makes his way towards the bathroom, pulling down his boxers and throwing his tanktop to the side. He steps into the shower and closes the glass door, immediately opening the cold water and standing under it; his muscles tense thanks to the cold and he remains like that for brief seconds before he extends his hands and places them on the wall in front of him, leaning his head down, looking at how the water moves swiftly towards the drain. Water runs over his cheeks and towards his lips, and he just spits a couple of times before looking up, letting the very cold water hit his face.

When he feels himself a little more awake, he warms up the water and washes his hair and body, getting himself a little more presentable. There is a zombie-like demeanor to his action, as if he is there, but not there at the same time. Finally, he takes a towel, runs it over his hair and then wraps it around his waist, later stepping outside the shower. He stands in front of the foggy mirror and quickly moves one hand over the glass, clearing up the image that he now sees perfectly clear. He looks tired, he looks very tired and even pale…perhaps the Ambrosia?

The man looks down at the hand that cleaned the mirror, finding a gold ring on his ring finger. An expression of hurt takes domain of his features and he pulls the ring from his finger, lifting his hand as if to throw it hard against something. But…he stops himself, he stops himself and looks at it for a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head. He exhales heavily and then looks at himself in the mirror one more time, nodding his head and taking a deep breath before he steps back into the bedroom.

Before dressing up, he does some cleaning, picking up all his clothes, getting them in a basket. He picks up the bottles and throws them in the trash along with the glasses. Then? Then he comes back and walks into his closet, looking for something to wear. His Off-duty clothes are there, waiting for him as they've always been, and one more time, he wears them. He marches towards the night table and gets his dog tags, hanging them around his neck, letting them dangle there.

One last look is given to the bedroom before he moves towards the Livingroom where a few boxes are placed on the table. All of these boxes are labeled 'LAURA'. Also on the table, there's a letter that lays next to an envelope, and it seems that this is a reminder of what he did last night, possibly before getting drunk. The man picks up the letter and reads it…

Laura,
It has been strange, the past few days…specially yesterday when we signed the Divorce papers. The hurt was on both of our faces and yet, we both understood that this perhaps was the best thing to do. For days I've tried to understand if I failed as a Husband. Was it our lines of work? I think it doesn't really matter at this point, I believe we both love eachother enough to know that even if we cannot be husband and wife, we can still be in eachother's lives.
I guess I should be thankful that it ended this way and not like so many other marriages end.
I'm going to go away, at least for some time…I'm going back to a Viper Squadron, it's better money and it will give me time to think, to be away from the things that are now so familiar to the both of us. I think it will be good for me, and I can only hope that when I get back…we can share a cup of coffee and see how our lives are going.
With Love,
Richard

He swallows after reading this and then folds the letter, placing it inside the envelope. He flips it over and places it on the table, taking a pen to write 'LAURA' on the front. He sets the envelope against the boxes and then looks at the door, where his bag is already waiting for him, with the rest of his things. The man walks towards the door and picks up his bag, pulling a letter from it, one that he quickly reads…

…You have been accepted…Viper Squadron…report to the Battlestar Orion…

He shoves the letter back in his bag and opens the front door, turning off all the lights in the house with just one switch before he steps outside, closing the door behind him.

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