[b]Capital Base, Liberty[/b]

Beretta knew the others who filed in behind her- Agent Mayday, her "date" for the mission, was a welcome sight. His presence had become familiar  to her with prolonged exposure, and she was pretty sure that she could [i]almost[/i] let him take her hand without either of them cringing away. She liked Canvas, too, though some of his jokes escaped her. But he was kind to her, and warm, and quicker to smile than he was to chide. He seemed a bit warmer than usual this morning, all truths be told, but it was not her place to pass one judgement or another on her superior. 

Agent Riza Kahn was a comfort, too: One of the few faces that traced back to the start of her memories, and the closest thing the young agent had ever been able to compare to a father, or perhaps favorite uncle. 

They were good people to work with. 

[color=#cbb9f9]"Thank you, Councilor,"[/color] she replied to Laxton, shuffling her feet to better show off the shiny leather of her high-heels. A near-giggle escaped as Mayday came in, and she stared at his absolute absurdity for a solid five seconds. It was good- Sparkly. 

The Councilor wanted her to act as if she was not there- Or rather, to do "whatever" they did when she was away. Which meant... What? Acting casual? Beretta's violet gaze drifted over to the table as Canvas set the bottle down among the others, watching them shine under the room's soft light. They reminded her of the multi-colored tubes of chemicals she had seen when her training class toured the genetics testing facility- All labeled "DO NOT TOUCH" in angry yellow lettering. Danger this, danger that. Keep your hands to yourself, please-and-thank-you.

But these said no such thing. 

Unable to hold her own curiosity, she cast a furtive glance toward Canvas and trotted (as well as the shoes allowed) to the display. She leaned in to read the curling scripts on their labels, the unfamiliar words failing to fall into place. [color=#cbb9f9]“Peanut... Peanut no-ear,”[/color] she read aloud, brow furrowing at the strange words before continuing down the line, [color=#cbb9f9]“Shimmering Mos- Moscato?”[/color] She stared intently at this bottle, noting that there was some form of settled metallic debris at its bottom. 

She looked back to Canvas, doing her best impression of someone who was not at all excited about the prospect of drinking glitter. [color=#cbb9f9]"These are... for to drink?"[/color]