[center][h1][color=17A589]Carla Lobo[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr][center][color=17A589][b]Location:[/b][/color] Outside[/center][hr]
Have you ever gone for days without drinking any kind of fluids? Imagine the inside of your throat: cracked, hot and tender. Your skin feels like a desiccated husk: the discarded remains of corn skins left out in the sun; now brittle and colorless. The inside of your mouth is not so much the entrance to the body's digestive system, but a biological reconstruction of a desert: sandy with nary a drop of water to be found. Through the haze of delirium you find a pool of water just a few second's walk away, your entire body screams to just run for it, but you know you have to hold yourself back.

This was about the same level of restraint Carla had to maintain to just not shoot somebody right there, let alone maintain a cool facade. Of course, while most people didn't have much experience denying their body's craving when it was sending signals that strong Carla was a professional who had been trained for most of her life to have the mental fortitude to handle much greater stresses than being backed up.

Wait, was that? No it couldn't be. But it was, if there was one person Carla would never, ever mistake for somebody else, it was Genevieve. What was she doing here? What would she think if she saw her here with the Alliance, presumably about to arrest and/or kill everyone she lived with? The cold expression on Carla's face cracked with doubt and nervousness. The assassin averted her eyes to anywhere else in the hopes that Gene wouldn't notice her gaze. [i][color=17A589]Jahosafat if you intentionally set this meeting up like this, I will rip out your toenails while you sleep and jam them into your esophagus.[/color][/i]