[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/2h8R2YT.jpg[/img]
[sub][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7SmlxQzE60][b][color=black]∙• but I [color=262626][s]don't[/s][/color] want to go among[/color] mad people [color=black]•∙[/color][/b][/url][/sub][/center]
[sub][sub][h3][b][color=d3d3d3]  S O L D I E R   E ɴ ᴄ ᴀ ᴍ ᴘ ᴍ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ [color=905a90] // [/color] Z ᴀ ʟ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴀ   T ᴜ ɴ ᴅ ʀ ᴀ[/color][/b][/h3][/sub][/sub][img]http://sherrygideons.com/wp-content/themes/flexsqueeze150/images/dividers/square-dotted-grunge.png[/img][indent][color=gray]There had been a meditating elation tingling beneath her moon kissed flesh for weeks. It was a rarity that they allowed the deranged heir out and about, and not just upon the ground, but in the sky! She hadn’t laid foot on a [i]real[/i] shyp for so long the experience of such had been revoked from her, even as she attempted to pry into that recess. Much to the goon lackey’s dismay [they’d pissed someone off to get stuck traipsing around with this one.] she had ignored their request to remain stagnant and seated with the others in favor of frolicking about the unrestricted areas. They trudged behind her, exhaustion marring their features, haggard from nightmares in which arachnids of fantastical form and chromatic aberration crawled about their no longer sacred sleep. [s][i]And how would the deviant know that?[/i][/s] She would be glad to rid her shadow of the pair; their inability to make eye contact stirred something vicious just beneath her lackadaisical surface and control had yet to come to her forefront of traits.

And now, after uncountable days and trials, she had been promised playmates, real ones, not the un-deified shells that treated her as a contagion. Of course, she could have been with them, they lingered just below the deck that her barefeet now skipped across, but confinement had left its taint upon her and her aeon so that open air was a siren’s call she dare not mute. As the shyp began to drift from the clouds, and lower still, she followed suit, descending into the bowels of the beast. She grabbed offered shoes, laces tied so that they dangled about a slender neck and shattered the reflective nature of her lightweight armored jacket.

As the SOLDIERS began their exit she hung back, light caresses pretending to inventory her weaponry one last time while her oculars and aeon scanned instinctively for flaws and fears, a habit really, always judging, but never playing jury. If her mood wavered, it failed to register upon the idiotically sweet smile she possessed. She stretched once more, a predatory gesticulation that seemed at odds with her lithe frame, movement raising her jacket sleeves to reveal a splattering of thin lined scars; products of blessing the bo-shuriken, one of which was now being tucked into her messy locks. Then she fell into line, barefeet fluttering across the hard metal and then finding solace in the frigid form of earth. The ground was forgotten as soon as she stepped from the gaping maw of the shyp and attention fell on the open landscape. An entrancement took her features; eyes expanded and reflected a thrill that seemed to barely hide the thought of going AWOL, if only for a week or so. It was almost as if she’d forgotten how extensive the world really was.

[center][color=black][i]They’d find you, and then they may not let you out again.[/i][/color][/center]
The faraway look that had begun to consume from the precipice of her iris’ inward, darting about the miasma within and tempting focus, was recalled as quickly as slight fingers retrieved a necklace previously coveted against her bare chest. She placed the thin vial almost imperceptibly against her nose and inhaled. If the action had been sly the result was less than. Lashes fluttered a few moments and eyes refocused so that the easy joviality became tinged with something more apathetic and hungry. [color=black][i]Well, now you at least fit in. That’s something.[/i][/color] The ferocity didn’t last long, though likely it was simply brushed from her expression and placed just below. When she met the gaze of the SOLDIERs, those offered, she had once again found a countenance of dripping nectar, made more elaborate by the raising of curling and wiggling fingers that came out like the wave of a beloved admirer.

She’d never been accused of being shy so when the aroma of coffee touched her senses she skipped forward, boots clicking around her neck. Graceful digits slipped around the cup offered by the, she tilted her head in an attempt to gauge the man, she was going to go for fear of loss and inability to hold liquor, but of course it was just a mental betting game she and the aeon played. She hadn’t actually leaked into him, [i]they[/i] told her that was disrespectful, and likely it wouldn’t go unnoticed as it often did with the goons. She didn’t want to get caught being rude on her first day. Her aeon could be quite a judgmental bitch, and she did nothing to forestall this attribute within herself. She had yet to speak-- she was a little self conscious about interaction-- but she was again reminded about impressions. Instead of saying something out of place [did normal people comment on the weaving fates skittering about them?] she offered a glittering intonation to her already smiling features.[/color][/indent]