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</div></div><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="margin-left: 20px"><div style="text-align: justify">Scanning was as painless a process as it was back at SSAG and easily feasible if one had a military- or SSAG-issued scanner. Running diagnostics, however, was far more in-depth and intrusive, leaving her in a state of vulnerability whilst she was in stasis. While scanning was seemingly mundane, all of Avielle’s standard specifications were now classified and registered to the DOD’s arsenal. Should, for any reason, she malfunction, the Department of Defense would be held liable for any casualties that she might have caused. Much like any of the firearms in the armory, a gun wouldn’t fire if its wielder didn’t intend for it to kill. Thus, the burden and responsibility rested upon the shoulders of he who utilized the weapon. That was what she was supposed to be for the Commander: a weapon, a top of the line AXS-062. <br/>
<br/>
Yet Avielle perceived a shift in his demeanor and his scrutiny when she set about accomplishing her task. The galleries of her mind identified it as <i>fascination</i>. It was a prevalent sentiment that she had recognized when she integrated with the squad and when she stepped foot on base but Canaan’s fascination was rather distinct than those that she had previously seen. His look was that of a man whose interest was allured, harboring an innate desire to seek the rationale behind her existence. Numerous speculations as to why he wished to do so manifested in Avielle’s mind, though the most logical and plausible of it all was merely because of her naked physique. Sol-Soon Advanced Genetics was always in pursuit of perfection, of genetic advancement as their name indicated. Avielle was a product of such an endeavor; she was created to embody perfection and excellence not only in mind and skill but in body as well, designing her to appeal to man, woman, and those in between. Although her abilities were honed to aid her in battle, Dr. Kahn instilled in Avielle that her appearance was also a weapon at her disposal whether she required it or not.<br/>
<br/>
And it seemed that she was witnessing the unintentional effects of it firsthand.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“It seems that I have offended you.”</span> Avielle deduced, her attention riveted on his reflection, and opted to placate him, though her tone was as even as her expression. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“That is not my intention. I am not judging your drinking habits. Recreational drinking is only restricted to those below the legal age. As an adult, you have a right to indulge in it.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Canaan’s hand was warm upon her bare shoulder, her eyes never wavering from his mirror image before her, his remarks curt and defensive to her ear. Her statements had been misconstrued, and she contemplated how she would best improve her relationship with him. One of her hands rose to brush her digits against the barcode that bore her data before she faced him, their hair’s breadth proximity failing to bother her in the slightest. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“The scanner is durable.”</span> She commented, her icy blues briefly glancing at the aforementioned device before meeting his gaze once more. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“You gripped it quite hard earlier—your knuckles turned white—that I anticipated it to be crushed.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Standing before the Commander, her pert mounds unobstructed by the sports bra in her grasp, Avielle weighed the possibility of addressing how he pored over her moments prior. Whilst it was convenient to report to her XO how her form was also a tool for him and his squad to use, from what she had gathered of Canaan’s character, such elaboration would only irk him. Nevertheless, knowledge of one’s weapon and teammate was vital in the field, and the blonde supersoldier deemed his ire a small price to pay in the face of fostering familiarity with the squad’s superior.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“I was designed to be this way.”</span> The Avoxxis ventured as she raised a hand betwixt them, inspecting the chromatic lines that marked porcelain skin. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“The first generation prototypes were of similar design but they were incapable of using it to their advantage on their own. How I look lulls opponents into a preconceived notion of being frail, delicate. Harmless. This is not something I can turn off. But it is useful for infiltration, assassination, and intel gathering operations.”</span> After inspecting her limb, she grasped Canaan’s hand and guided it to where her heart was beating a steady rhythm. She pressed his digits against the tender flesh of her breast, her stiff nub brushing against his calloused palm. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“That is not something you will feel in first gen Avoxxii. The softness and humanness of this body is mainly attested to my organic creation. If this feature makes you…”</span> For once, the blonde femme searched for an appropriate word that would not test the Commander’s temperament. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#429aaf">“…<i>uncomfortable</i>, please do remember that it is unintentional and will never be used against friendlies.”</span><br/>
<br/>
She disengaged from the compromising position as effortlessly as she instigated it by fitting the sports bra unto her bosom in front of him, supporting and securing her mounds. She returned to the bench where the rest of the uniform was, sidling on the pants first then the camisole and the top. Garbed in standard black DOD attire that all concealed her streaked skin from the harsher biomes of the planet, all that was left was to choose were her boots and her helmet. Once she collected those and geared them up, Avielle appeared to be any other Marine on the base, her pale locks still held up in a neat ponytail that fluttered down to her back. Only then did she retrieve the white bodysuit pooling on the floor, the skintight fabric she knew from the moment she was awakened was now to be disposed. <br/>
<br/>
If humans held any sentimental value for the constants that turned to be variables in their lives, Avielle thought nothing of it​</div></div></div></div>