<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/d3/eb/ccd3eb851ec1e8945ab9e1e139a25276.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Florinthia 'Flo' Legiticus (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15779216#msg15779216)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Turian<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Biotic Weapon and Requisition Officer<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>December 20th, 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING: </span></strong>Casual synthetic top and 'pants' with a nice brown jacket. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ee/10/f7/ee10f772225f872df8cc7c242d7e19ec.jpg)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Middle Deck, technically |  Flo's Room.<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Hmmm...<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Malcolm Thomas<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>“<strong>Honestly, I think I believe you.</strong>” She said, shrugging at her mention that he would have helped out even if she wasn't his type. It was a fun sort of game they were playing, and even if she hadn't decided to mess about with Malcolm or not, Flo was happy to be playing it. It certainly took her mind off of things, and distractions were a delicious thing indeed when you were busy feeling about as sturdy as a scuttled Frigate. “<strong>Still. You aren't going to get many chances at some sweet Batarian-shaped revenge in the Engineering bay.</strong>”<br/><br/>She shrugged a little as she eventually moved to sit on the edge of her bed. She was starting to feel the fatigue and the pain roiling through her, and a nap was probably the best thing she could do for herself. No doubt she'd wake up to more Requisition requests, but that was part of the job. Organisation didn't do itself. He bid her a good day, taking a moment to glance up and down her body as he made his way to the exit. Handsome as he was, he was transparent. She could work with that. “<strong>I'm sure you'll be the one dreaming about how I handle weapons at this rate, Boy-scout. Make sure you actually pack a pistol. I might shoot you if you come half-cocked.</strong>”<br/><br/>A little chuckle would follow him out of the room, as Flo basically collapsed onto her bed. Grunts of effort followed as she tore her clothing off, a hiss of pain as the throb of her building migraine reminded her she was unwell, and out of practice. She felt about as unattractive as a person could feel, but somehow she'd still bagged an admirer.<br/><br/>Not bad, if she did say so herself.<br/><br/>