[h1]Liberty[/h1]

There were little blurred, black lapses in the past hour that Agent Beretta could not pull up to the front of her mind, and a big blank spot of air just to the left of Canvas's head that kept taking her wavering attention and holding onto it for intermittent bouts of time. She was not sure when she had stopped feeling her face, but she had taken to feeling her cheeks every so often to be sure they were still there.  

She wasn't quite sure what he was saying. There was a graph that looked like the path of a plane crashing. Or like the state of affairs at this meeting. She giggled at that, but her head lulled lazily to the size when she turned to see if anyone else had found it funny. 

She scoot-scuttled her butt across the floor several inches to lean against someone's leg, and she was a solid 96% sure it was Mayday's. Or, like... maybe 64% sure. When had she sat down on the floor? It was kind of cold, but the leg was nice. 

She fixed Canvas with her unfixed eyes and giggled again. There was a loose lock of raven hair stuck to the side of her lips. 
[color=#cbb9f9]"Maybe... Maybe YOU'RE t'st[i]u[/i]pid. Because you're  the..."[/color] she paused and frowned, realizing that there was now hair in her mouth. She stuck her tongue out as her violet eyes crossed to try and see the offending strand, before dragging the back of her hand down her cheek to free it. Her  expression again became as serious as one could be while sitting cross-legged against someone else's calf.[color=#cbb9f9]"I am thinking that we've... We're doing our good. Goodest? Mmmost... good."[/color]