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[h3][color=fff79a]Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka[/color][/h3][/center]

	It was a red letter day. Finally, things were about to crack off. One of the good things about being funded by the Speedwagon foundation was that Chloe could wear whatever she wanted, instead of some stuffy, extra uniform. Something Chloe made sure to take full advantage of. A short black leather jacket with long sleeves over a white crop top was what Chloe usually preffered to wear. It showed off the tattoo of a japanese cherry blossom tree that rode up the left side of her midriff. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail that drifted lazily downward toward her shoulder blades. Skinny jeans that were riding fashionably low on her hips were tucked into black leather boots that came up just beneath her knees. The most important part of her look, though, was the permanent cheeky smirk on her face, as if she was in on some sort of joke everyone else missed. The face this grin was engraved upon was a mixed race one. Her skin was the lightest of browns, her chin was sharp and her nose was on the longer side, but her head was a little wide and her eyes were big and round. Quite literally a wide-eyed recruit, through her brightness seemed to come from a place of stubborness rather than naivete. 

	Listening to the General talk was important. Their mission was important. Medicine for the children and the soldiers, or the child soldiers if need be. Jerry was on the move and someone needed to teach him a lesson. Bellends thought they could take over the world, well, not on Chloe's watch! Chloe stood straight and respectfully, though every once in a while she would fidget, slacken, or relax. It would be easy to tell the young woman wouldn't last a month in boot camp, which, well, she didn't. Fortunately she found a different calling and still got the opportunity to bash some people who really deserved it. Nothing better than a well-deserved ass kicking. Usually a bird like herself would be stuck in some triage tent somewhere, the closest she ever got to battle would be the distant sounds of artillery shells. Even that was better than nothing for Chloe, though her bedside manner could probably use some help. Fortunately, she had a special talent not even the brickheads up high could ignore. A Stand, they called it. Chloe wasn't exactly sure of the specifics, but she had a magic imaginary friend that could beat the shit out of anyone she wanted. Not everyone had one, so Chloe counted herself lucky. She had always had it in some capacity, she was told, but it was only until a few years ago where her friend had started to make herself apparent to Chloe. Either way, using her friend felt as natural to Chloe as lifting a finger, breathing, blinking, and pub crawling. As in, second nature. Couldn't live without it.

	Her hazel eyes did a once-over on the little plane they were supposed to ride in. Guess she wasn't going to be smoking on the way over, would have to keep the fags in her pocket. Would be rude to fill up the three feet space on the inside with ash.

	[color=fff79a]"S'a bit small, innit."[/color] Chloe remarked, tipping her head toward the plane.  Well, she'd rather not be stuck in the middle. A window seat would be preferable. The people around her were a curious bunch, and she was looking forward to getting to know them. Afterall, they were to be comrades. With a skip in her first step she began to make her way over to their ride. Opening the door she hopped inside and scooted all the way over to the far window seat, giving an encouraging pat to the empty space next to her.

	[color=fff79a]"Well, doesn't matter. Name's Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka. Call me Anything you Want, but Chloe's easier to say."[/color] She introduced herself easily and confidently with a smile. Her voice had a hint of scratchyness to it, and it was lower than one would expect.till, it had somewhat of a singsong quality to it. Her London accent was also impossible to ignore, though there was another accent in there that was hard to identify, one that was just bubbling beneath the surface of her words. Pressing herself against the far window she stretched her left arm over the back of of the seat. She was looking forward to this. Fear and anxiety were present, but together they combined to make a kind of excitement. Plus, Chloe wasn't one who was easily spooked. Not a chance in Hell she would pass up an opportunity like this. They'd be drinking the finest Parisian wine in no time.