[ She just stares at him, watches the nervous ticks in play, matches his voice to her memory - and finds where memory came up wanting, even with the recordings to refresh them. She hears the stutter, knows the name he's stumbling over, and something in her gut twists. Guilt, and sorrow, and some small scrap of joy.
Her fingers twitch upwards, towards her palms, as she considers a course of action, Then she's following through, pressing gloved fingers against the release seals on her armor, catching the tips beneath her helmet to hook under and drag it up, pull it off. Breaking the contact needed to maintain the camo unit. As the surface of her armor ripples, brown patches washed slowly away by aqua-teal-turquoise, a sweep of a dark red hair falls across her vision, though ponytail is still in place --it grows back fast nowadays no matter how short she cuts it-- but she doesnt swipe it away. Instead, she takes a stilling breath, before looking up, green eyes haunted and hopeful.
The helmet drops, forgotten, landing in the dirt with a soft thud.
Her voice is hers. Dark and heavy, with emotions she doesn't want to credit by name.]
no subject
Her fingers twitch upwards, towards her palms, as she considers a course of action, Then she's following through, pressing gloved fingers against the release seals on her armor, catching the tips beneath her helmet to hook under and drag it up, pull it off. Breaking the contact needed to maintain the camo unit. As the surface of her armor ripples, brown patches washed slowly away by aqua-teal-turquoise, a sweep of a dark red hair falls across her vision, though ponytail is still in place --it grows back fast nowadays no matter how short she cuts it-- but she doesnt swipe it away. Instead, she takes a stilling breath, before looking up, green eyes haunted and hopeful.
The helmet drops, forgotten, landing in the dirt with a soft thud.
Her voice is hers. Dark and heavy, with emotions she doesn't want to credit by name.]
...York.