<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)<br/>Stonewall | Jackson Stewart (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=298984.msg14626760#msg14626760)</div>Hoisting the rucksack of gear with her armored arm, Jax follows alongside Hope on their way to the "compound", or "workshop," or whatever it can be called... the device now rests in her free hand, and she seems to absently gesture with it as they walk in a sort of nervous way before resting it against her shoulder.  "To answer your questions earlier... Leith, Scotland.  Very close to Edinburgh."  She smiles a bit, acknowledging the irony.  "Bit weird, I suppose-- being born on the cliffs and the oceans, then ending up here in the desert with the buzzards and snakes, eh?"  She grins playfully.  "Speaking of which, over there, that lizard on the rock?"  She points, testing Hope's self-described precise vision-- Hope should have just a moment to spot the reptile before they cross the rise.  "Can you see him?  What would you name the fellow, eh?  He's been spying on me today.  He<i>might</i>be a secret agent."<br/><br/>With a bit of the grin lingering on her lips, she practically bounces on her way to her base of operations.  "As for your other question, by the way... and, no I haven't forgotten, I would relish the opportunity to examine you.  It all sounds terribly<i>clinical</i>but, you see, I have an interest in biology and such, particularly yours."  She pauses for a moment, the gear over her shoulder clattering noisily then going silent, but then she clears her throat and resumes her pace.  "And... yes.  I love to fly.  I... pilot a helicopter a bit.  Only took a few lessons to qualify, and the R. A. F. was happy to accommodate after I saved one of their carriers from a giant pterodactyl swarm last year.  They were kind enough to qualify me... isn't that sweet?"  Hope knows, by now, that the talkative redhead is interested in more than her biology.  Her blue eyes are practically swimming over Hope on their casual stroll toward the structural base she calls home... and her arms fold over her breasts as if in a defensive response, despite the baggy, sun-shading clothing's more-than-apt ability to hide what's beneath.  Still... Hope's keen senses are able to tell that Jackson's eyes have dilated a bit in response, her skin's giving of a tint of pheromone, and the freckles on her face are just a bit more pronounced with the slight blush that's spread on her pale skin... and it's certainly not sunburn.<br/><br/>Arriving at the edge of the main buildings, there's signs of activity here that weren't immediately visible from the air... perhaps out of loneliness, or boredom, it looks like Jax has taken up collecting some interesting specimens of rock and scattering them on one bare tabletop, and a simple clothesline stretches across the bare stretch from an awning to a radio antennae.  She sets the energy weapon and her rucksack aside by the door, first, then begins brushing off some of the dust from her live-fire exercise on the porch.  Jax then begins to remove her boots and socks, then unbutton her over-shirt.  "There's a machine-lab inside, and it has to stay dust-free," she says softly.  "So, ah... I hate to impose, but... if you're not offended, I have to... you know.  Keep the sand out here in the desert."<br/><br/>She smirks semi-apologetically, then steps out of her boots and, unbuttoning her slacks, begins slipping them over her hips in a fashion that is either teasingly slow or, perhaps, asking permission.  She watches Hope for any adverse reaction, and beneath is a simple pair of boy-shorts, tight over her sculpted hipbones, the swell of flesh at her hips, the taut thighs and toned abdomen.  When she sheds the button-up and hat, she's wearing a cutout black t-shirt beneath-- leaving much more to the imagination, and most interesting is that she has to unbutton an extra button at the wrist, slide it along her armored shoulder carefully to keep it from snagging on the armor.  The t-shirt is cut back far enough, it seems, to not interfere with where the armor meets her skin-- which is, it appears, in long plates under her scapula and ribs up to her spine.  There's no junction or fulcrum-- it's like the arm is an entity that's just encased her arm all the way to her neck.<br/><br/>Barefoot now, her thin shoulders and long, graceful neck bare, Jax looks somewhat excited and terrified as she shrugs toward the entrance.  "Alright then.  Make yourself at home, okay?"  Her slightly-upturned breasts appear briefly in profile as she turns inside, touching her bare hand to a clear display screen under a sheet of loose plastic.  Several hydraulic and electronic mechanisms can be heard hissing or sliding, and the door clicks open.  She swings it open.  "Mi casa es su casa."<br/><br/>Just inside, the foyer is already amazingly different from the outside... the stark room is vast, but filled with comfortable lighting, a single lounging chair, a single sofa and television, a stereo, potted plants, and a glowing fish tank of tropical fish.  Ceramic tiles gleam, clean as whistles, and a Roomba is finishing its cleaning rounds before disappearing into a cubby under the end-table.  A tiny kitchenette area is off to one corner, with a hot-plate and a microwave visible next to an espresso maker.  A hermetically-sealed door leads off to each the left wall and the right, the first labeled with a neon-lit sign overhead labeled "FORGE", the other "LAB".  On the central wall, just past the sofa and a small, but crowded, media shelf is a third doorway with no door, with no light emitting.