[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/LfErXKU.jpg[/IMG]

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[b]Aboard the Behemoth; near the border.[/b]
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[color=c8c8c8]Her naturally pale pink lips had remained pursed around an expression that seemed devoid of any interface for the entirety of the day passed; unmoving so that her vocal cords felt a chill of neglect from her conscious train of thought. She couldn’t properly recall now the last time she had spoken. The few words that danced across her ego were brushed aside, replaced with an abundance of information and stimulation affirming the imposition of silence. The mindset hadn’t very far to venture to take her polestar back to the ridge top; a coaxing of self to recede and coalesce with the generally static environment. All the otherness that did not retreat with her in this hazy dreamscape of stagnant matter garnered a calculating cynosure that piqued and darted with an untrusting focus. The gunmetal lined eyes took in those around her, their mannerisms, their voices and little quirky inclinations. It was the peak of her training to excel in this modus operandi; observation, the hunt, watching, waiting - distant and invisible.


Truth be told, she was having a difficult time settling since the briefing. She felt no fear, excitement- had she been less trained, less the soldier paradigm, she would have welcomed these minor annoyances, but as it stood the assemblage had been less than apt. Her departure and the time subsequent had left her unamused and dubious at their leadership and the accord of her fellow SOLDIERs. While this may be her first operation with SOLDIER, there were plenty of tattoos and scars crawling across sun caressed skin, peeking out from beneath the utilitarian long sleeves and dark messy braid, answering unasked questions about a shadier induction and encompassing lessons about jobs well done, and failed; the hastily scribbled prison tag given to the poverty youth in and out of the system.

Leaders were not a foreign concept that she failed to grasp due to upbringing, much the opposite. Leaders should be above squabbling, above being questioned. When a leader is questioned, then there is no end to the questions. It opens a faucet that cracks a damn and soon chaos rains down. In her opinion this was not the type of collective you wanted feeding into their own questions. Questioning begets chaos like the crooked smile of the Charon harkens the solidity of death. But maybe she was overthinking; maybe chaos and death were exactly the team building exercise they needed.

Either way it went, here she found herself in the [s]safe[/s] womb of mechanized war. Her eyes were drifting amongst her wombmates, fluttering behind mirrored shades that she had pulled down when they entered the beast. She'd been dozing on and off, but she allowed her conscious to settle on their voices as the somewhat tense introductions were being made. She let her fluttering gaze be captured by the late addition for a bit longer than the rest; her eyebrows moved along with her eyes, the only indication she was sizing him up.

The Elites wanted rebels brought in and the President wanted them killed. It may come down to personal judgment, which, as it turns out, she was not recruited out of jail for having possessed. She also wasn’t trained as a sniper for the business of bag and question. The oneness she felt curled against the cold metal death was not offering the promise of time to eek out tortured answers or redemption. That time has passed. Would she be the ally of the tough talking one man team? A "hmph" came out, almost like a snort that she disguised as clearing her throat.

She tapped two of her spider-like digits, wrapped in thin black glove, against the R-36 Particle Rifle that was nestled across her lap like a safety blanket. Talking to no one in particular she added her name into the mix. “Dach Moxolovi,” she pronounced it like [i]datch[/i], “ Sniper.” She seemed to smile a little at herself, though it was only because she had forgotten how much she enjoyed the lazy cold sweetness of her own voice; she sounded like such an asshole.
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