[center][h3][color=39b54a]Emily, or #2[/color][/h3] [/center]

Number 2 was laying in her bed ontop of the sheets, staring up a phone. On it were pictures of very rich, very famous people exploring the Amazon jungle...or what was left of it. The brunette had long hair was tied into a ponytail by a black and gold ribben, The hair splayed out in every which way on the pillow her hed was resting on. She was wearing a sports bra beneath a flowing, loose brown shirt. The sleeves had fallen off her shoulder, and the bottom of the shirt had ridden up to just above her unpierced navel. Right beneath that was a pair of denhim short shorts kept low by a white belt. Adorning her feet were a pair of slick, black thigh high boots. The woman couldn't have been more than twenty years old, and seemed to have an affinity for hearts. On her left shoulder there was a black and white outline of a heart shape, and beneath her left eye there was a small red heart. Mostly hidden by her sports bra and shirt, there was a pair of battle serpents duking it out between her shoulder blades. Besides that, there was a pink flower just above and to the right of her belly button, and one could see a pedal from the thing poking out from beneath her shirt. 

There were also two black and gold wrist thick wrist bracelets above each of her hands, and both of the lobes of her ears were pierced with two golden rings. The late teenager on the table had a very clear aesthetic she was going for, and she contrasted greatly with the handler in the nice suit. Her large, dark brown, almost grey eyes drifted lazily towards him. From her perspective, he was standing in the middle of her upward facing boots. She furrowed her eyebrows and made a sneer with her lips.

[color=39b54a]"What? [i]Tasteful[/i] pretty young girl? Is that a euphemism or something? Christ, man, you're a weirdo." [/color] #2 responded, and it was impossible to tell whether or not she was being playful. With that being said, she cast one last longing look toward the Amazon rain forest, and tucked the phone into her back pocket. Standing from the bed, she ran a few fingers through her hair to make sure it wasn't totally frazzled. Her boots made deep, satisfying impact noises on the floor as the rubber heels made contact with the wood.

Marching boots. Fort Hood, Texas. Place was full of military types of course. Most of them pretty handsome in uniform. The foliage wasn't unworkable. There were the trees planted by the base, and the grass was mostly well maintained, though the outside world had as much brown grass as it did green grass. For some reason humans were hell bent on planting grasses in places where that type of grass wasn't meant to live. The concept of weeds was literally made up, and every day they sprayed poison into the dirt because one type of plant is viewed as bad, and the other type is viewed as good, for literally no reason. Whatever.  Getting out of the bed had messed up her shirt even further. She went to adjust the straps but didn't bother pulling the thing down, and it had ridden up to show most of her midriff, including the entirety of the pink flower tattoo. It was one of her favorite flowers and her favorite tattoo. 


She approached casually, making a gesture of 'let's go' to the handler, whatever his name was.