Three years in space; Echo couldn't believe she'd lasted lasted that long. More than once she had stood at one of the airlocks, looking down at the world that had turned orange. To ash. Murphy had often teased her about it, telling her he could show her how to work the escape hatch, if she needed it. They'd settled into a routine, the seven of them. The others were used to this place, metal and hard lines, but Echo and Emori had some trouble adjusted. But even Emori knew her way around technology, and soon they grew distant, the frikdreina feeling more at home with Skaikru than Echo did. Five years; that was how long they said it would take. Five years, and Echo could go home. To what? She had no clan. No king, or queen. She was alone, because no one really trusted her up here. They all knew what she had done, Bellamy most of all. So Echo spent most of her time alone, even now. Training. Trying not to go mad. That night found her sitting at one of the bay windows, staring down at the dead world, feeling more alone than ever.
@chaosthxory // starter
