<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/575/243/large/jeehyung-lee-psylocke.jpg?1463288821)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Psylocke<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Meeting with Officers on the Highway<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sept 8th at 1600<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jean Grey, Bishop, Hijack<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Meeting the troops<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Psylocke missed her own cache of weaponry.  Softly she let a hand linger over the items displayed for their potential use.  Much like a child seeking permission she glanced toward Bishop first and then let those wayward fingertips touch a pistol.  Not to her surprise she found the Glock 22 readily available to her hand and grip.  Familiar fingers grasped the weapon and drew back the slide to inspect the chamber before drawing the dark figure close to her chest.  Hardened material covered her breasts but there was space to see her cleavage and admire the contour of the armor she wore.  That she now hugged the weapon between the twin mounds made more than one man give a reaction.  Psylocke felt their interest as much as saw, but she ignored their interest for now.<br/><br/>Instead she relived a moment of release.  Bare thighs slipped apart so that she could assume a three-point stance with the weapon.  Suddenly the pistol was snapped up so that she could peer down the sights.  Arms extended so that she could assume a proper stance before then relaxing and setting down the weapon.  Dark hair fanned over her face when she stepped back from the display of weapons.  “I have my own equipment.  Thank you.”<br/><br/>Long legs guided her around the table yet her almond eyes never descended to look on the weapons again.  Instead she seemed more like a prowling animal that was giving an edge of threat to those not part of her team.  Every step was greeted with the creak of the armored material she wore, that covered her body in what seemed a conscious provocation of darker thoughts.  Then she reached down to open the tail end of the red sash so that it became more of a half-skirt around her legs.  Still the leotard did little to hide the roundness of her bottom or the tone of her legs.  Only the small flap of her armor did that and with each step the shift allowed just a glimpse to be given.<br/><br/>Psylocke was not so interested in the preservation of life here, but she knew her orders and knew that Bishop kept a tight leash.  The path to earning the trust of her new found companions lay in her performance.  So she eventually planted herself next to the others with only a partial smile on her lips.<br/><br/>“I will do my part to end this quickly.”<br/>