The Retreat

[Laur Doyle]

((Feel free to join, if you so wish. I may well welcome the company. It is freeform as per usual in Blackstar, there are no goals and there is no war... unless you make one, of course))

In the unexplored southern desert a small, and apparently wooden house can barely be seen through the winds laden with red-gold sand. Far enough away from the edge of the trees for it not to be conspicuous, yet close enough that the inhabitants would be able to retreat to the safety of leaf-green foliage should an emergency ever arise, it was almost perfect. Almost... the only problem was that even though it had been covered in sand, even the roof had a layer a millimter thick, it was still too visible from the air for the soon-to-be inhabitants liking.

A woman makes her way across the sand, a small khaki backpack on her back. She had a wide-brimmed, sandy coloured hat on her head, only kept in place by the hand that was flattening it to her head. Under the hat, golden hair waved in the wind and bright green eyes narrowed against the sand as she resolutely made her way forwards.

The womans clothing was simple, slightly baggy khaki pants fluttered about where there was slack, as did the khaki jacket she wore over a grey t-shirt. Grey rather than white because it would otherwise blind her with the reflection of the sun.

After about ten minutes of this struggling the woman finally came to the door, and fished about in her pockets for the key. A few seconds passed as she uttered a small curse before pulling out the key, inserting it and turning the lock. The door 'clicked' and swung open as the wind buffeted it, the woman stumbled inside. She quickly turned around and pushed the door back until it clicked into place once again, and again turned the lock.

Satisfied, she pocketed the key and took off the hat before hanging it on a nail near the door. Long blonde hair flowed down her back now it had been released from the hat, and was free of the wind. The woman, only about 5'5 herself was barely shorter than the ceiling, a single lightbulb in the middle of the room would provide sufficient light during the night, but as it was bright sunlight streamed in through scratched glass windows so there was no need.

A small table was set in the middle of the room, four chairs surrounding it. To the right of this is a storage cupboard with a fridge next to it, powered by the same energy source that the lightbulb would feed off. To the left a bookcase took up every available space, it's shelves filled with both many varied books and the occasional decorative ornament

Directly in front of her, past the chairs and table, another door led into the only spearated area, the bedroom. The bed was the only thing lush in here, rather than spartan. It had soft, red silken sheets draped over a down stuffed mattress. There's a small wardrobe in here as well, large enough to take a weeks worth of clothes.

The woman walked forward the small distance to the table, and put her bag on the bare, smooth surface. She smiled and then put her hands up to her head, her fingers grasping her blonde hair before tugging backwards. It offered a little resistance, but with a final tug it came off, revealing the luscious locks to be nothing more than a wig. Under this dark brown hair fell out, the womans true colour. Next she brought her hands up to her eyes, and carefully removed two circular pieces of material. Placed on the table, it's possible to see a yellow colouring. The womans eyes turn to the window to look outside, their colour now bright blue. The woman was Laur Doyle.

Laur had booked a week off, and simply left without telling anyone where it was she was headed. Not Till, not Michael, no-one that knew her knew she was here. Those that didn't know her she guessed may come knocking, but come as it may, few people in Blackstar knew who she was never mind what. This place was almost perfect, but she fully expected to be found at the earliest within a day, if anyone decided to look for her.

Laur unpacked quickly, throwing clothes in the wardrobe and food she'd brought with her in the fridge and cupboard before stowing the khaki bag. One thing stood out when she was finished, looking out of place. A single, unusual desk rest now sat atop the table, unusual because it appeared to be made out of the horn of an animal.

Laur sat contemplating it for a while, before removing her gun from it's hiding place on her person and setting it next to the strange piece. She folded her arms, lost in thought.