( That makes two of them. She doesn't much show her age until she's truly brought down to her knees or she's laughing especially loudly, crinkling at her eyes giving her away if nowhere else. Thank the nanites for keeping a stressful life and sleep deprivation from touching her appearance.
The excitement over her line of work nets him an easy smile, indulging and warm— she supposes it is quite cool, yes. )
They're much kinder on the body than traditional prosthetics, thankfully. Have you ever seen any?
( Oh right, of course. "Do no harm" and all. )
Well, I spent quite some time with an international peacekeeping force filled with the best of the best from all over the world. Many of them were soldiers. It was part of the curriculum once I began participating in war relief and we were in dangerous locations.
( He's telling her about learning Krav Maga himself when he suddenly stops, and the sudden shadow over the cell tells her all she needs to know even before she's turning around. Her eyes widen, a fraction scared even knowing this is just a simulation— it hadn't made the cold iron feel any less real clamped about their wrists, which meant the pain of imminent execution would feel just the same.
Not a prospect she's interested in exploring. The bolted-down loops the chains ran through wouldn't fit the shackles to pull through and use as a weapon, so they're restricted to what they have on their persons.
It doesn't leave much beyond "their persons". Bobby pins weren't exactly made for poking into eyes. The guard snarls, more to intimidate the other prisoners into sitting back down than to vent his displeasure with them, but it also draws the attention of others. Angela doesn't know what Rick will do, but she knows what she's going to do.
Sorry, Rick. You said you were still learning, so she takes the lead and bolts toward the guard before he can make much more noise, trying to get him to grab for her to use that arm and pull him down with the twist of her body. The bigger they are, the easier it is to knock the wind from their lungs when dropped flat on their backs. )
no subject
The excitement over her line of work nets him an easy smile, indulging and warm— she supposes it is quite cool, yes. )
They're much kinder on the body than traditional prosthetics, thankfully. Have you ever seen any?
( Oh right, of course. "Do no harm" and all. )
Well, I spent quite some time with an international peacekeeping force filled with the best of the best from all over the world. Many of them were soldiers. It was part of the curriculum once I began participating in war relief and we were in dangerous locations.
( He's telling her about learning Krav Maga himself when he suddenly stops, and the sudden shadow over the cell tells her all she needs to know even before she's turning around. Her eyes widen, a fraction scared even knowing this is just a simulation— it hadn't made the cold iron feel any less real clamped about their wrists, which meant the pain of imminent execution would feel just the same.
Not a prospect she's interested in exploring. The bolted-down loops the chains ran through wouldn't fit the shackles to pull through and use as a weapon, so they're restricted to what they have on their persons.
It doesn't leave much beyond "their persons". Bobby pins weren't exactly made for poking into eyes. The guard snarls, more to intimidate the other prisoners into sitting back down than to vent his displeasure with them, but it also draws the attention of others. Angela doesn't know what Rick will do, but she knows what she's going to do.
Sorry, Rick. You said you were still learning, so she takes the lead and bolts toward the guard before he can make much more noise, trying to get him to grab for her to use that arm and pull him down with the twist of her body. The bigger they are, the easier it is to knock the wind from their lungs when dropped flat on their backs. )