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A range of emotions and instincts erupt inside Seri. An inner voice tells her to give in, not to disappoint the women, to pleasure each of them. That she owes them, that this is what she was built for. Another, smaller, hurting one says to leave the room and run. Disappear from the ship, all...

Seri drifts, nearly losing consciousness, as the combined empathy and lust from the women around her washes over her in the form of a barrage of pheromones. She finds herself unable to move, paralysed in the midst of the bombardment of sensations, her fine tuned senses overwhelmed. But free -...

Seri lays between them, feebly squirming, and then settling, just letting her chest, the curve of her stomach, rise and fall as she shudders through each breath. The women’s words seem far off, with an underwater quality to them. But she feels what they mean, and feels the outpouring of care...

Seri moves stiffly, not resisting, but unable at first to accept the kindness shown her. She wants to scream, to pour out everything that’s happened. But she’s frightened, so frightened, of what will happen if she does. She shakes, then curls inward, each hand clutching a bicep as she makes...

Seri closes in on herself, unwilling to be a disappointment, a burden, yet feeling her skin crawl with every touch. Even with the gentleness, the kindness shown - or perhaps because of it. She flinches at the suggestion of punishment, as if already lashed. “N-no, please. Nothing like that. Let...

Seri hears the woman’s words, and sees the wisdom in them. But being alone is what she knows. And even if they understand how deep in despair she is, do they know what she’s done? Do any of them? She thinks about telling them, but she can’t stand the thought of their congratulations - praising...

(oh good heavens look at them all!) Seri stumbles as she’s manhandled into the new room, and urged towards the bed. Wide eyed, sniffling, she looks a fright - and these women are so very, very beautiful. But the weight of what she’s done and the persistent reality of it won’t leave her alone...

“No - yeah - of course.” Seri nods rapidly, gulping down her feelings and trying to keep herself together. She nearly falls apart on the spot when Jura takes her hand, and squeezes back instinctively. “You rest up. I’ll bring Nami to see you as soon as she’s back… otherwise I’ll - I’ll come...

Seri curses her fumbling hands, even as the wound is finally seen to. She nods mutely, offering Jura her hand and shoulder, supporting her as best her slim frame can manage. It doesn’t take long to find Jura’s bed, and she eases the other woman down, darting away to collect a water-soaked...

“R-right, right.” Seri nods hastily, mentally kicking herself for forgetting entirely about the first aid kit. She eases Jura back against a bulkhead, sitting her back carefully. She swivels around, an undercurrent of panic still rippling viciously, and hurries to the first aid hatch...

Seri does her best to catch Jura as she sways, guiding the other woman further into the ship. “We - we need to get sitting down. And, uh, water? Kriff, I don’t even know if we have any medicine onboard.” If only she’d got the communications properly working, she could call Nami and Kaelaen...

Seri nods mutely, allowing herself to drift back towards the ship, wanting nothing more than to crawl into some dark space and forget everything that’s just happened. Probably try to forget even further back, while she’s at it.

Seri can’t bring herself to look at the hatch, dreading the moment they topple the Twi’lek inside. She stoops to untangle the rope from the dead woman’s neck, and untie her hands. It seems silly, but she supposes it’s the least she can do. There’s not much she can do to redress her without...

The notion sends a chill through Seri - it could easily have been her dumped into a chute and left for dead. Or actually dead. It seems an awful thing to do to another living being, but then is it that much worse than what she’s already done? “Kriff. Oh, kriff. A-alright. I suppose that’s all...

Seri grasps for the ship’s bay doors, missing the frame and stumbling against it as another bubbling sensation rises in her chest. Just a little longer just a little longer and then you can fall apart, find somewhere to crawl into and just rot. She’s never had to confront something like this...

Seri can’t quite share Jura’s enthusiasm, as she struggles to get her feelings under control. But at least they’re both alive, mostly unscathed. And she’s glad that - while guilt is tearing her apart - Jura doesn’t blame her. “I suppose - I suppose we ought to get her back inside. Whether...

Seri tries to stop her pacing, rocking on her heels as she hugs her arms to herself. Eventually she manages a shaky nod, looking anywhere but the Twi’lek - or Jura. “Yh- yeah. That’s about the long and the short of it, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry you got caught in the middle… but thank you,”

Seri flinches at the embrace, then slowly accepts it, huddling against Jura. But when she tries to speak, she feels an acid rush in her throat, and claps a hand over her mouth, shuddering. “S-sorry I - I can’t -“ she stammers, squirming free. She stands, hands shaking as she begins to pace...

Seri makes the wrapping as tight as her shaking hands will allow. She hasn’t the first idea how to properly dress a wound, for all her time spent in Kylos’ lab. “I’m not even close to a medic.” She mumbles apologetically. “This is the best I can do, until - till N-Nami’s back.” She gulps...

She fumbles for the wrapping, hands beginning to shake, as she realises the impact of what’s just happened is slowly overtaking her. Seri gulps, clutching the chest wrap tight, and hobbling back over to Jura. “Are-are you? I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened. Please be okay.” She rambles in a...