Sigma tilted her head, still waiting for a prompt of the wrecked girl to take the handkerchief. She was wasting enough time, as the world went by around the two. And she had managed to catch the attention of someone. An older boy. Ariin, he called himself. He prompted a supportive?...yes supportive response to Elora, and then proceed to try and propose a team with a healthy dose of self bashing. He also obviously included Sigma, because it was...polite? No, there was something more.

Patronizing older brother attitudes. Sigma's lips scrunched, and her eyebrows depressed in disappointment. She was not a little girl to be coddled nor someone who needed a brother. He would probably sell her frustration if her actual cheeks hadn't reddened a bit. She focused on the robotic eye.

And the handkerchief became suddenly more interesting. Ariin also went so far as to boast about his behemoth of a mech. Sigma formally tilted her head once against towards the pilot, but her look was a rather...neutral stance. [i]Eh, I've seen worse.[/i]

"I appreciate your offer, Ariin... but I've been asked to not hold back and fight everyone. And I will do so. Twisting the orders and forming a team does not net me benefit yet." She added. Well, she would like to make it so it was not an individual effort, as she knew firsthand teams had a strenght on their own... but then again Lorenzo was Lorenzo, and she knew all very well the whimsical man threatened and -dunked- people in formalin for less, at least according to what the rumours said.

She resumed staring Elora and the handkerchief, ignoring another high pitched girly voice who had gone to poke the gruff, distant old pilot somewhere. Odd creature, was this her idea of being nice and cute? Social interactions were so odd.

"I don't believe how you passed the cut to be here." She blurted out to Elora, without any kind of tact or filter whatsoever. "Crying wastes energy. It is undesirable."

Two girls presented themselves while Sigma was fixated on the handkerchief again. One was a repair type... Hmm...

And then, just out of nowhere came a loud man who then began to round all the younger pilots, asking what seemed to be the obvious. Had he not been briefed? It would match his stupor and mannerisms. Probably the best course was to give the man an answer so his interference would be kept to a minimum.

"I am fourteen." Sigma announced with her still childlike voice. "The minimum age cut for the Framewerk project." She added, red eyes staring into his. For not too long, before her eyes narrowed on a little addon of his uniform. [i]A Knight's Cross??? A veteran![/i]

Sigma visiblely paled (if such a thing was possible) and flinched for a second. Veterans were crazy. Dangerous, and all of them had treaten her poorly even for a non human doll like her. She tried to brace herself, but managed to recover in time, turning the protective hug into a pondering hand in her chin.

"You don't look broken. Why are you not [i]broken[/i]?!" She asked, her curiousness muddling her incipient sense of tact. She never realized what she done, and instead resumed tending the handkerchief. And then other pilots began wondering, and pondering what the XO was about. By letting us decide. They didn't realize, did they? [i]Lorenzo was probably watching the whole time, each step they made.[/i] Not that she had worked much with him, but she had seen some of his sort back at the project. It would fit.

"Cameras." She pointed with her hand at the ceiling, in answer to the hesitant pilots. "We are probably being studied from the moment he left up until the point we finally end the exercise. Unfamiliar environment, stress test."

She was still waving the handkerchief to Elora.