<div class="floatleft">(http://img15.deviantart.net/26da/i/2012/171/9/8/i_won__t_let_go_by_triztaess-d53dall.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Allyk Dog (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=245148.msg12122225#msg12122225)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Interrogation Room, OHSPD Headquarters, Mega City Ohio, USoA<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date:</strong>5:00 pm, April 1st, 2110<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Akimov (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=245148.msg12117688#msg12117688)<br/><strong>Mentioning:</strong>--<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Standard Issue (http://i.imgur.com/6Xfuope.jpg) – without the headset.<br/><hr/>"Current leader?" A woman snorted as she entered the room, tucking the door closed quietly behind her. "Someone else tryin'a take yer position, Commander?" A slender brow lofted, the little grin that tugged at her pale lips displaying a sort of cocky mirth that didn't at all seem fitting for the current situation. She wasn't really properly dressed for an interview either - nothing like Big pimpin' Francis King had been when he had his interview earlier, mind you - but she wasn't wearing any pencil skirts either. She sported the standard issue coveralls of her current<del>hobby</del>career.<br/><br/>"I’m not interested in working for anyone that thinks he’s expendable.” The white haired woman stated as she approached the desk Peter currently sat at. ”Dog, Allyk Dog.” She offered slender, unassuming hand to the man and should he take it he’d find the woman’s grip unusually strong and firm for someone so … tiny. Either way, take it or not, she was eventually settling back into the seat across from him, one knee folding over the other as she leaned back almost lazily with a smile to match. ”Let’s be honest, Command.<i>Nothing</i>is ever off record.” She chuckled quietly, rolling her eyes to the ceiling with a vague sense of annoyance.<br/><br/>People in law enforcement were watched like hawks – anything for the propaganda wagon, right?<br/><br/>”But I do have some comments and questions.” She admitted, momentarily distracted as she fiddled with one of the buckles of her combat boots. ”Why do you make it all seem so trivial?” She shot him a glance, both brows raised with interest. ”You’re like some living broken record – You’ve repeated yourself so many times there’s no<i>life</i>to your voice anymore.” Where was the passion? The<i>drive</i>? What kept him getting up every morning? What had him coming to work every day?<br/><br/>”Let me ask you something, Mr. Akimov. Why do you wake up every morning?” Allyk sat up in her seat then, leaning forward sluggishly as her elbows came to rest at the ledge of the table, giving her chin a place to settle as it lowered into the base of her right palm – head inclined. ”Why did you take this job? -  Why did you become a member of the bomb squad all those years ago?  Especially when he had a very nice sum of cash in his bank account that pretty much guaranteed he didn't actually have to work hard or take such risks. "Why did you did you decide you go into Max-Tac? And why did you stay after what happened to your comrades?” After being dragged through all the mud and gunk and piles upon piles of shit. ”Why are you still here?” Now just who exactly was interviewing whom here?