09-10-2015, 06:54 PM
"Like what you see?", Miranda said with a half hearted chuckle. Ever since her mechanical eye, dubbed the "Crimson Eight" became operational again, she was able to be aware of the happenings around her. If she wanted she could push her awareness through walls or underground. It was something quite fascinating and completely unintentional when her Doctor designed it.
Speaking of which she had noticed a while back that a man was following them. She had thought about confronting the man but she just didn't have the energy at the moment, nor the care. His posture was careful, but not hostile. For all she knew the man was curious. If he made a wrong move though, she would be all over him. If he derided that stalking around this place and confront the group head on and get what he came for, good for him. In either case she would make him explain to the group of his shady actions.
"We have a man following us. Don't confront him. Let him come to us. Weak turtles or no, its stupid to do something rash alone in any military installation", she explained rather disinterestedly. She wasn't worried, but she felt like the others should know if they didn't already.
For a while of walking down the the neat, cool corridors, Drake and Miranda were shown to where they would be sleeping. One look and Miranda recognized it as a soldier's barracks, with men sized beds lined for several rows down the room. Windows shown in a soft warm red light. Sinister, but at the least the castle didn't smell of sulfur. To be honest she could have sworn she smelled freshly cooked meat, but could be the result of her stomach telling her to "Fil' it' up"! She eyed the room before turning to their red shelled guide.
"Is there any place to get a bite to eat here? I do not know of the others.. but I'm fairly famished." She said rather unusually softly, her posture reflecting a sort of exhaustion. Her arms slumped down and her eye drooped. The red shelled guard smiled and motioned onwards toward the hall.
"Yes just follow the hall down to the Mess Hall. The majority of the forces here are preparing to move on to a fortress not to far from here, so lines should be short.", The guide said before waddling out the door and into the hallway. She sighed and walked up to a bunk, examining its size. For an army full of short walking turtles, they looked fairly human sized. Did this castle belong to another at one time? Is this a guest room? Or is they employ humans into their military service?
Miranda didn't dwell on those insignificant questions and shook them from her mind. She brought a hand up and and slowly unzipped her cloak, slipping out of it. Underneath she wore a sleeveless collared shirt, tucked into her black battle-dress uniform pants. Why sleeveless? It would be a shame to get her shirt caught in the exposed mechanical workings of her arms. Appearance wise, her arms resembled a human skeleton's arm, with various tubes and material stretching around it.
She draped her coat over her steel arm and folded it, but the sound of a book hitting the cold stone floor snatched her attention away. She lay her folded coat on her bunk and reached down, taking the bound book into her gloved hands. It was her old journal, full of the events of her childhood and the various stories and tales her mother prophesized. It would have brought a smile to her face, looking through reading and skimming through her various drawings. She closed it softly and set it atop her coat before turning to walk toward the door. She looked over at Drake, pausing for him.
"I'm heading to the Mess Hall for a bite to eat. You comin'?", she asked, motioning toward the doorless doorway. It was funny. Her short time in the omniverse had already changed her. Before all of this she ate in silence, but now she was quite used to something going on around her. She wasn't too tough for a little company. Whether or not she was accompenied, she made her way out of the barrack and towards the eating area.
"Hmm I wonder if they would allow seconds?.."
Speaking of which she had noticed a while back that a man was following them. She had thought about confronting the man but she just didn't have the energy at the moment, nor the care. His posture was careful, but not hostile. For all she knew the man was curious. If he made a wrong move though, she would be all over him. If he derided that stalking around this place and confront the group head on and get what he came for, good for him. In either case she would make him explain to the group of his shady actions.
"We have a man following us. Don't confront him. Let him come to us. Weak turtles or no, its stupid to do something rash alone in any military installation", she explained rather disinterestedly. She wasn't worried, but she felt like the others should know if they didn't already.
For a while of walking down the the neat, cool corridors, Drake and Miranda were shown to where they would be sleeping. One look and Miranda recognized it as a soldier's barracks, with men sized beds lined for several rows down the room. Windows shown in a soft warm red light. Sinister, but at the least the castle didn't smell of sulfur. To be honest she could have sworn she smelled freshly cooked meat, but could be the result of her stomach telling her to "Fil' it' up"! She eyed the room before turning to their red shelled guide.
"Is there any place to get a bite to eat here? I do not know of the others.. but I'm fairly famished." She said rather unusually softly, her posture reflecting a sort of exhaustion. Her arms slumped down and her eye drooped. The red shelled guard smiled and motioned onwards toward the hall.
"Yes just follow the hall down to the Mess Hall. The majority of the forces here are preparing to move on to a fortress not to far from here, so lines should be short.", The guide said before waddling out the door and into the hallway. She sighed and walked up to a bunk, examining its size. For an army full of short walking turtles, they looked fairly human sized. Did this castle belong to another at one time? Is this a guest room? Or is they employ humans into their military service?
Miranda didn't dwell on those insignificant questions and shook them from her mind. She brought a hand up and and slowly unzipped her cloak, slipping out of it. Underneath she wore a sleeveless collared shirt, tucked into her black battle-dress uniform pants. Why sleeveless? It would be a shame to get her shirt caught in the exposed mechanical workings of her arms. Appearance wise, her arms resembled a human skeleton's arm, with various tubes and material stretching around it.
She draped her coat over her steel arm and folded it, but the sound of a book hitting the cold stone floor snatched her attention away. She lay her folded coat on her bunk and reached down, taking the bound book into her gloved hands. It was her old journal, full of the events of her childhood and the various stories and tales her mother prophesized. It would have brought a smile to her face, looking through reading and skimming through her various drawings. She closed it softly and set it atop her coat before turning to walk toward the door. She looked over at Drake, pausing for him.
"I'm heading to the Mess Hall for a bite to eat. You comin'?", she asked, motioning toward the doorless doorway. It was funny. Her short time in the omniverse had already changed her. Before all of this she ate in silence, but now she was quite used to something going on around her. She wasn't too tough for a little company. Whether or not she was accompenied, she made her way out of the barrack and towards the eating area.
"Hmm I wonder if they would allow seconds?.."
"I've been here before, used to this kind of war. Crossfire grind through the sand. The orders were easy: 'It's kill or be killed'. Blood on both sides will be spilled."
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