<strong>Name:</strong>Kris Palmer (http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lutcsrQ9iG1qbhmlvo1_500.jpg)<br/><strong>Occupation:</strong>Technician<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Shuttle<em>Gamma</em><br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>None<br/><hr/><br/>The base plucked away at a deep, sultry, sequence, outstretching it's velvety fingers to stroke her ears. It captured her almost immediately and her eyes fluttered closed even before the kick drum started in. Kris's body came to life; heel rising and falling in quick taps to the beat, a hand rising to plunge her fingers into the voluminous blonde hair, combing it back away from her face, her toned, freckled shoulders slightly swaying as the panels, the reinforced steel braces, the existent though faceless crew members around her, and the ever-expanding universe beyond all melted away.<br/><br/>The grungy whine of the vocalist commenced, singing defiant, harsh lyrics that drip with desire for vengeance despite the internal protests that tell him to 'leave it alone.' She pressed her fingers to the wireless buds in her ears, her head lolling forward as the guitarist whipped out a dirty solo, and after a final, resonating stroke, it all faded back to that first, unmistakeable rift. Her head falls the other direction now as if from exhaustion, meeting the scarce padding of the head cushion, framed by brace-like structures on either side that seemed to serve some purpose that she didn't even pretend to understand.<br/><br/>Conveniently as the song came to a close, the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom and Kris briefly paused the small MP3 player clipped to her belt. However, the words that met her ears were not to her liking, nor did it seem like they were to anyone else's by the sound of it. At the conclusion of the message, she exhaled sharply, the sigh turning gradually to a groan.<br/><br/>As unpleasant as she seemed, Kris was just impatient to get to her station and to start the job she'd been looking forward to these past few months. The person you encountered on the shuttle was never an accurate perception of the person you were going to be working with, anyway. Most people knew that, and if they didn't, well, they would learn it eventually. Not that anyone was really able to match up Kris' slight tantrum to her face. The partitions made sure of that. She supposed the shuttle engineers really didn't take into account just how long people would be stuck on these things. Some conversation would have been a good remedy.<br/><br/>For a few moments she shifted restlessly in her seat, sliding her hands back and forth over the tight denim jeans that hugged her toned thighs until she found the will to stay still for a little while longer, freeing her MP3 player from pause as she slumped down into her seat as best she could despite the harness. Finally, with her long legs outstretched and her arms folded across her chest, Kris hunkered down for the remainder of what had already been an excruciatingly long journey.