<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/0hxURMj.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Valkyrie (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=173794.msg8319473#msg8319473)<br/><strong>Occupation/Status:</strong>Prototype Marksmanship Specialist<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outdoor Firearms Range/Briefing room<br/><strong>Action Summary:</strong>Completing marksmanship exercise/Heading to the Mission Briefing<br/><strong>Tagged Characters:</strong>Wicked, Maybelline, Shade, Dr. O'Rourke<br/><strong> Open to Others?:</strong>All<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Thud (two...three...four...five...six...seven) Thump. Valkyrie could hear the slow thud of her heart forcing blood through her circulatory system, slowing as she settled into her position. The pose was not entirely comfortable, she was spread two uneven stones, one foot on each, crouching close to the taller rock's side, torso nearly flat against the uppermost surface. Elbows braced against the rock, she waited, as she had before, and most likely would again. Her breathing slowed, becoming shallow enough that her back only rose one millimeter from it's 'deflated' breadth every minute. She waited, watching as polarized light splashed across the mountainside, creeping across the rocks and shadows, ignoring the fantastic array of shades and hues only she could see.<br/><br/>Approximately after thirty minutes, she sometimes counted whilst she was waiting for her quarry to come into view, she saw a shift, perhaps three-quarters of a mile across the slope. Guard was stiff.<em>I could easily relieve you of that particular hardship</em>. No, the Foundry frowned upon it when she shot things she had not been assigned. Eyes never leaving their focus, the muzzle of her long-ranged rifle never shifting a hairsbreadth, Valkyrie pulled her thoughts back to herself. A small animal, at least one mile away, preferably two. She had been promised a reward in return for completing the task. And penalization if she failed, of course.<br/><br/>It was how they controlled her. As they'd chemically removed all but the deepest emotions, they could not use them to control her as they did the others. Pride was the most common, she surmised. To be a good soldier. To perform better than required, to outdo themselves and each other. Thankfully, Valkyrie felt no need to compete. She knew her capabilities, They knew them, and they wanted to push every limit they could. If she succeeded, she would be allowed something, perhaps a book, or something new to examine. If she failed, they would deny her a meal cooked for at least relative enjoyment, and provide her with tasteless nutrient substitutes. They would leave her to take it or leave it. She could wait until the next meal. She had once waited two weeks before giving in and choking down the nutrient substitute. From that she had learned that it was easier to eat it, the next meal would be the same fare the others got, or to play to one of the Foundry employees, begging, wheedling, perhaps crying.<br/><br/>Only the new ones, though. The ones who had never met her before.<br/><br/>Finally, her quarry came into view. A mile and three-eights away, approximately, a ground squirrel scurried into her field of vision. Instantly, her rifle's barrel, and her eyes focused on the small mammal. It paused on its way to a small shrub, head popping up to scan for danger. Her finger squeezed as she waited for her heart to again beat, her chest to rise and fall, before she added the extra pascal of force on the trigger.<br/><br/>She tracked the round from the rifle's muzzle all the way to the head, and into the ground behind the now lifeless corpse of the small animal she had been charged with collecting. Its blood, fir, and grey-matter stained the dirt and she paused, studying the beauty of the moment clinically, before with a deep breath, and a blink, she snapped back into her normal metabolic rate. She shifted, placing her foot down on the lower rock and straightening. Her finger clicked the safety in place as she gathered her weapon, and began to stride toward her kill. Her minders would not find it. They rarely could find them. Perhaps an hour had elapsed, it had been quick today. After three strides she began to sprint, feet finding their landings easily on the uneven area.<br/><br/>She kept her pace moderate, she had learned not to run too far or fast outdoors as well. It had taken three tranquilizers to stop her, and she had not relished their side effects. It took her perhaps five minutes to reach the rodent, , and she grasped it by the scrawny tail, before turning and raising it. They had been watching her, and there would be at least six sights trained on her, six fingers on triggers, six loaded darts ready to perforate her skin.<br/><br/>It took her seven minutes to reach the entrance, and, reaching the rally point, she felt her face relax into a smile, her eyes widen slightly, and her steps loosen into a light jog instead of the tight run she had previously kept.<br/><br/>"I got it! Did you SEE that?" She squealed, giggling. The handlers didn't react to her giggles. Instead, one held his hand out for the chipmunk.<br/><br/>She placed it in his gloved hand, still grinning. "Do I get dessert tonight? Can I have hot cocoa?" She guessed. She did enjoy sweets, especially after she slowed her metabolism. "Ooh! Can I have spaghetti tonight for supper?" Wordlessly, the handlers turned toward a seemingly innocuous gap between two rocks, and closed rank around her. They proceeded into the labyrinth of passage ways, and through the standard security checks.<br/><br/>"Briefing room B, in ten minutes." It was the minder who had been twitching earlier.<br/><br/>"Oh, okay!" She grinned, and offered him her rifle. As his hands settled on the firearm, she released, giggling as he nearly dropped the eighty-pound, two-meter long weapon. "Careful!" She cautioned, before turning and beginning to trot away. "Bye!"<br/><br/>When she reached the briefing room, she was walking briskly, face returned to its' stoic state. She stepped through the door, and slipped into the seat beside Maybelline, briefly meeting the Doctor's eyes before turning to the other prototypes.<br/><br/>"Have I missed anything?" She asked, voice low enough to make the humans strain, but not low enough to incite accusations of secrecy. Her eyes panned across the other three. She saw the colour stuck against Maybelline's mouth and cheeks. "What did they give you?" The way the light hit the pigments, and how the material clung to the microscopic hairs around her mouth, and between the lines in her lips, it was some sort of viscous colourant, meant to adhere to some surface. Although the most common pigment was not an unpleasant purple, the others within the material ranged from complimentary to contradictory, although she knew the humans would not see how very ugly the colour-range was. Valkyrie assumed it was meant to come in contact with a person's face, as as far as she was aware Maybelline was not in the habit of putting things in her mouth. Logically, she decided it had to be some kind of cosmetic, likely what she, on very few occasions, had seen on the female Foundry employee's lips.