[img]https://i.imgur.com/R8mZ8jl.png[/img] [color=dimgray]_____[/color] [indent][indent][color=dimgray]It was that time already? Moving through dirty tiled floor and half dead florescent lights buzzing with exhaustion by trying to cast full brightness, led into the darkened patio room of the barracks where a lonely Anastasia could be found. Her jumpsuit had been unzipped from the nape and hung snugly at her waist. A wifebeater, stained yellow at the edges of her armpits and collar, was slowly becoming darker with each bead of sweat soaked inside the arrogant cotton. The humid rain did something to alleviate Anastasia’s ability to overthink or worse, reminisce. Luckily, there was an immediate call to action for Nemesis team to mobilize into an Osprey ASAP. The lightning illuminated the window, only catching the half of her body that was burnt cadaver. Anastasia walked in a daze really, finding her way somehow in the foldable seat on the aerodynamic aircraft she had stepped on so many times she had lost count. The others were quick to fall asleep or left to their own devices, but she never really slept more than three or four hours, let alone on mission time. She fingered her pockets fishing for her cigarettes, first meeting the band of her tactical eyepatch then finding the plastic wrapped paper instead. If aliens were real, it would be better for them to see her wear her weakness, not run from it with alloy and leather. She tapped the top of the carton, packing the cigarettes to her liking. Fire flickered to life at the flick of her zippo, clearly worn down to bits from seeing as much action as she had, adding to the flashing lights that broke the darkness that enveloped the cargo bay. Deep pulls dragged the life from the cigarette, expelling cumulus clouds of smoke. There was a peaceful ambience to the quiet before the deployment. She looked around, eyeing the rest of the operatives aboard. Some were so young they should have been wet behind the ears still, while others looked more like her age simply from spying their mileage, stress had a funny way of aging us faster than intended. And so, hours passed as she idly glared at the shine of her boots and rotated one cigarette out for another, ashing the stick on the gap between her and some mousey faced man, with a jaw weaker than the weapons they provided for loadout. If she had her way, she’d smuggle in an AK-74U no problem. Her quite peace was broken by a noisy gnat that clawed at her ear. [color=#FF1205]“блядь!”[/color], She quickly fished the earpiece from her canal and turned it off, smashing it between her fingers and palms. The little ill-fated jewelry piece found it’s way into one of her tactical pockets of her vest where it would stay until she had to link with her squadron. By now everyone was awake and looking blankly into space, no doubt listening to the orders of whatever commander was in charge. Remembering she was given the earpiece and an optical gadget; Anastasia retrieved it from her accoutrement. Unintentionally, she managed to affix it to her face in unison with the others. Technology never ceased to amaze her; it was a wonder wars were still being fought. No doubt they would reach the LZ within a few minutes if the higher up rang in. Finally, this old gal would be able to stretch her old bones once again. Amidst her stretch the mousey one finally broke the silence. [color=#FF1205]“девочка, I remember you from somewhere, no?”[/color] reaching across her personal space to shake hands with the squeaky one was brazen and unsettled her, an urge rose in her to grab the hand before it could make contact, but she was not as dexterous as she once was. She turned to the boy, [color=#FF1205]“ha! You look like you would break easily if you were not so far away little [i]мышь[/i]”[/color] scoffing with her thick Belarusian accent. [/color][/indent][/indent]