W
Windsong
Guest
It used to be in the days of old that the woman's place was at home, rearing children and waiting for her man to come home. They must have had it pretty nice, Nie mused to herself with only the slightest twitches of her eyes to indicate she was even awake.
From head to toe she was covered save those emerald orbs that a few soldiers had grown fond of quite rapidly. Even her nose and mouth were kept obscured by way of dirty cloth to keep the dust out. She regretted not wearing her goggles, as if covering her eyes made any difference when even covered by baggy clothes and gear her chest was unmistakeable a womans.
"We got a medic. That's something new." One soldier chimed. With his sand hair and fair complexion he seemed the youngest of the trio that sat around her against the side of a gutted house.
Beside him knelt another, busy with what was likely the last piece of white cloth in Turkey. "Quit babbling you'll scare her off." Dark skin and a cropped haircut made him look older than he really was as he gently and with more manners than expected took Nieve's arm to tie the cloth around it.
"Really? You're giving her that?" The third and likely oldest scoffed, a veteran, or at the least a survivor. His mockery didn't hold up since he understood its merit. "You'll be lucky, Miss. They'll see that and hesitate." Whether they planned to use it for distraction later or not was beyond her.
With fingers encased in her gloves she tugged at his knot about her arm, loosening it just so. There was no mistaking the smile behind her eyes at the gesture. Not above using her gender for its perks she would still feel guilt if her actions brought anyone's death like a freight train.
The Red Cross on white stood out against the fatigues and stained clothes she wore like a sore thumb. It marked her as neutral if it came to it, spared a bullet. A quick and desperate flash of her GDI badge nestled between her breasts would do the trick as well, getting it out from the layers of clothing would be the hardest.
"Don't worry about it. This'll go quick and easy." His smile was young, too young, she thought. He belonged in college with a book under his arm, not a rifle.
Then again so did she.
While the three chattered her attention was elsewhere, the words distant despite their proximity. She was looking at the man who commanded them all, tall and broad not too far away. Without him this failed. Not far from him the man from before, Janek, she recalled correctly this time. Would things go poorly he seemed her best bet to get help from.
From head to toe she was covered save those emerald orbs that a few soldiers had grown fond of quite rapidly. Even her nose and mouth were kept obscured by way of dirty cloth to keep the dust out. She regretted not wearing her goggles, as if covering her eyes made any difference when even covered by baggy clothes and gear her chest was unmistakeable a womans.
"We got a medic. That's something new." One soldier chimed. With his sand hair and fair complexion he seemed the youngest of the trio that sat around her against the side of a gutted house.
Beside him knelt another, busy with what was likely the last piece of white cloth in Turkey. "Quit babbling you'll scare her off." Dark skin and a cropped haircut made him look older than he really was as he gently and with more manners than expected took Nieve's arm to tie the cloth around it.
"Really? You're giving her that?" The third and likely oldest scoffed, a veteran, or at the least a survivor. His mockery didn't hold up since he understood its merit. "You'll be lucky, Miss. They'll see that and hesitate." Whether they planned to use it for distraction later or not was beyond her.
With fingers encased in her gloves she tugged at his knot about her arm, loosening it just so. There was no mistaking the smile behind her eyes at the gesture. Not above using her gender for its perks she would still feel guilt if her actions brought anyone's death like a freight train.
The Red Cross on white stood out against the fatigues and stained clothes she wore like a sore thumb. It marked her as neutral if it came to it, spared a bullet. A quick and desperate flash of her GDI badge nestled between her breasts would do the trick as well, getting it out from the layers of clothing would be the hardest.
"Don't worry about it. This'll go quick and easy." His smile was young, too young, she thought. He belonged in college with a book under his arm, not a rifle.
Then again so did she.
While the three chattered her attention was elsewhere, the words distant despite their proximity. She was looking at the man who commanded them all, tall and broad not too far away. Without him this failed. Not far from him the man from before, Janek, she recalled correctly this time. Would things go poorly he seemed her best bet to get help from.