[right][h3]The Fed Zone[/h3]▆ : ▆ am, Saturday
November 6th[/right][indent][h3]D.[/h3][/indent]


[color=gray]"Ahh -- ?"[/color] D quickly took several steps away from where she was standing, disengaging from the social setting and rubbing her eyes. The heel of her boot rubbed against the tile flooring, but the noise went unnoticed, even by D. Her eyes unfocused and wandered towards the cup she was holding as her lips folded into each other, signifying her attempt to quickly contemplate what her next step should be. [color=gray][i]This is a big 'un.[/i][/color] Her hand left her mobile device and zipped her pocket.

Her body suddenly bent and squatted next to her case. She didn't have time to think. [color=gray][i]Steady, Freddy and get geared up.[/i][/color] -- that command only took her two seconds too long to register in her brain. She was feeling a little frantic, even if her name was not actually Freddy. [color=gray][i]Thank God Dad's not here.[/i][/color] As much as she wished her father was here to help her, she was glad he wasn't. This was going to be a fucking mind trip, and D didn't have the time -- or the hour, she was beginning to assume -- for unstable psyches. She thought this with certainly, recollecting quickly about [i]that one time[/i] Aubrey had dated a guy who quit promised to smoking "weed" for her or something retarded like that. Although, he actually lied and had [i]not[/i] stopped, which was why they eventually broke up. Aubrey had been really heartbroken, but D thought they guy was boring and stupid, anyways. How could he not have been? D never understood why people did drugs when they could just engage with the paranormal. [color=gray][i]Normies are a special type of dumb,[/i][/color] she guessed, [color=gray][i]and Dad is turning into one of them.[/i][/color]

The cup was placed next to the case, and D's hands quickly began opening her case. Her thick tan, gloves pressed a sequence into the cases and unhinged the brackets, right then left. The bottom part of the case opened, revealing a gun-of-sorts that looked nothing less ridiculous than her outfit. If anything, they looked like they had come together (which was further from the truth).  Next to the gun was a helmet-of-sorts -- gadgets and gizmos with small bits and bobs to operate the thing were evidently not as user friendly as Mr. Hotshot's Google Glasses. It also looked even more ridiculous and annoying that the Google Glasses, depending on who was asked. One thing was certain, it was without a doubt a matching piece to her outfit.

D picked up the headgear and blew inside of it quickly before positioning it over her head. Her large gloves made several adjustments to the helmet, and she took several seconds to pause and look around with her goggles changing performance levels. Lights gently flickered into gear underneath the helmet's protection. [color=gray]"Beautiful,"[/color] she whispered to herself, as a small half-smile pushed on her cheek. Her head bent to look at her gun. Its large body was pulled from the briefcase. She loved her gun and enjoyed every single time she used it, but her father had warned her against getting [color=silver][i]too up in arms and excited[/i][/color] about using it. It was just such a beautiful creature, and... then the lady with the cool t-shirt disappeared.

She immediately stood up, gun in hand. Her heart fluttered at the site and the commotion, all tinted in blue from her eye-wear. Small breaths were pressing from her, [color=gray][i]This might actually get better than a B-rated production. The special effects are spectacular.[/i][/color] D took in several breaths, trying to calm her excitement in the looks of examining her laser gun. She looked good. The brief case had treated her well. [color=gray]"Did anyone catch that on video?"[/color]