08-03-2018, 12:49 PM
Gogo didn’t even flinch when the soldiers raised their weapons in perfect, synchronised union. She tracked their trajectory, and saw that they were pointing above her head. When the next voice butted in, she stepped forward smoothly three paces, and then turned, placing herself in the middle of the massed soldiers before she looked at the being that had spooked them.
Bright pink hair. Wings, but not from the shoulders. This wasn’t a type of person that she recognised. The outfit was very modern for some form of angel, as well. Gogo’s expression remained carefully set as Jibril spoke with the Captain, and the Captain tried to convince her of the righteousness of the Empire versus their apparent competitors.
Her face remained placid; an expression of polite interest shared between both the winged interloper and the Captain who seemed determined to win her approval. She wasn’t certain why, but it seemed that just being chosen to be here at all leant her some level of importance. Perhaps that was just something that came with immortality.
Both the Captain and Jibril were waiting for an answer, though, and she felt like she was obliged to give one, which was a little annoying.
Gogo’s fingers lifted, and she brushed her hair back out of her face. The long, dark strands parted like a wave beneath her touch, and gave her a clear view as she looked up at the brightly-coloured Flugel. The pair could almost be direct opposites. Gogo, in her all-too-familiar schoolgirl uniform, dark-haired and restrained; Jibril, fluttering above all inquisitive energy and brightness.
“Everyone lies.” Gogo said, lifting her shoulders at the words as though this were the most obvious fact to have ever been spoken. She gestured with her left hand, encompassing the gathered troopers, without taking her eyes off Jibril.
“They have a vested interest, so I can’t really blame them. I guess their boss pays them to try and win over newcomers to their team?”
She spared the Captain a glance, then, and even with his face fully covered there was a kind of reluctant acceptance that what she was saying was true writ clear in his body language.
“I don’t know that I’d put it like that, exactly…” He began to bluster, and Gogo cut him off.
“I can’t stand around here all day waiting for my friend to arrive.” She continued, “So, why not go and see what they are putting on the table.”
She smiled. It was cheerful, and innocent, and utterly fake.
“Not.” She continued to lie, “That I know what they want with a simple girl from Tokyo like me~.”
She laughed self-effacingly, and patted the Captain on the shoulder, as though they were friends sharing a joke. The teenager’s voice was light and airy as her attention returned to Jibril.
“You know, if other people want to make offers? It would help if they showed up. Are you going to make a play for my loyalty?”
The question was thrown out casually, but it was there. A tacit acceptance that her allegiance was out there to purchase, if a price could be agreed.
Bright pink hair. Wings, but not from the shoulders. This wasn’t a type of person that she recognised. The outfit was very modern for some form of angel, as well. Gogo’s expression remained carefully set as Jibril spoke with the Captain, and the Captain tried to convince her of the righteousness of the Empire versus their apparent competitors.
Her face remained placid; an expression of polite interest shared between both the winged interloper and the Captain who seemed determined to win her approval. She wasn’t certain why, but it seemed that just being chosen to be here at all leant her some level of importance. Perhaps that was just something that came with immortality.
Both the Captain and Jibril were waiting for an answer, though, and she felt like she was obliged to give one, which was a little annoying.
Gogo’s fingers lifted, and she brushed her hair back out of her face. The long, dark strands parted like a wave beneath her touch, and gave her a clear view as she looked up at the brightly-coloured Flugel. The pair could almost be direct opposites. Gogo, in her all-too-familiar schoolgirl uniform, dark-haired and restrained; Jibril, fluttering above all inquisitive energy and brightness.
“Everyone lies.” Gogo said, lifting her shoulders at the words as though this were the most obvious fact to have ever been spoken. She gestured with her left hand, encompassing the gathered troopers, without taking her eyes off Jibril.
“They have a vested interest, so I can’t really blame them. I guess their boss pays them to try and win over newcomers to their team?”
She spared the Captain a glance, then, and even with his face fully covered there was a kind of reluctant acceptance that what she was saying was true writ clear in his body language.
“I don’t know that I’d put it like that, exactly…” He began to bluster, and Gogo cut him off.
“I can’t stand around here all day waiting for my friend to arrive.” She continued, “So, why not go and see what they are putting on the table.”
She smiled. It was cheerful, and innocent, and utterly fake.
“Not.” She continued to lie, “That I know what they want with a simple girl from Tokyo like me~.”
She laughed self-effacingly, and patted the Captain on the shoulder, as though they were friends sharing a joke. The teenager’s voice was light and airy as her attention returned to Jibril.
“You know, if other people want to make offers? It would help if they showed up. Are you going to make a play for my loyalty?”
The question was thrown out casually, but it was there. A tacit acceptance that her allegiance was out there to purchase, if a price could be agreed.
![[Image: YkB0u8S.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/YkB0u8S.jpg)