Friday, 28 June 2013


Laria studied the woman closely. She deserved attention. She had dark hair, hazelnut eyes, and a confidence that oozed from her, a mixture of flirtatiousness and danger that was intriguing. It combined with a physicality - not strength, for the woman did not look physically strong, but an awareness of her own presence, of her own body - to give her an energy that drew attention.

There was something else there, though. A coldness, a hardness. Just beneath the surface, just poking through in odd moments and movements. A set of the corners of her mouth. A flintiness in the eyes. She had the air of someone who had committed crimes, broken hearts, and didn't really care about either.

Laria stepped away, and the figure in the mirror receded. She liked that person. The person that she saw in the mirror. Not exactly a sassy adventuress, but something darker and more primal. A pirate, a lover, a walking scandal.

The only problem was that she didn't feel that way. She still felt like a scared little girl, improvising wildly in fear that someone would discover she didn't belong. That she would be rejected.

She wanted to be the woman she saw in the mirror. She just didn't know how to be. And so she would continue to fake it, because there seemed to be no other path available to her. She was a prisoner of her own choices.

She blinked, feeling her brow furrow. Wasn't everybody, in a way? That thought comforted her, and she turned to her datapad, bringing up an array of faces, dossiers glowing beneath them. Recruiting time, for her merry band. 

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