[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Six-Pack [Closed]
Dec 16, 2022 22:57:55 GMT -5
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Dec 16, 2022 22:57:55 GMT -5
WEEK 4, DAY 4
The Top of Omega Outpost One, NV
The Top of Omega Outpost One, NV
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Somewhere in the high desert, on top of an abandoned missile silo, a woman sat. Her legs dangled precariously over the edge of the mesa where the silo was hid. Her red hair was tousled by the wind, eyes locked on a vulture in the distance. It circled something over the faraway highway, its lonely cry as dry and creaky as old wood. The woman's head turned to watch it dive, the speck in the distance that was the bird lost amongst a patch of brush. Roadkill, most likely, the woman thought, hand going to a set of dog tags around her chest.
It had been a long, long twenty-four hours. No, more than that - about twenty-seven or twenty-eight by now. First had come her rescue from an alien jet by another alien in the form of a car. Then came the revelation that her planet was the secret battleground of warring robots. Then came the interrogation by one Agent Fowler, whose looming presence and prying questions unnerved her more than she'd admit. Finally, there was the ultimatum: she was to stay on base until Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, could speak to her. No going home, no contact with the outside world, nothing.
And since she never called off work without giving ample warning at first, her never showing up and not being home would raise alarm bells. If Bridget or Kaspar didn't call the police, her boss would. She'd probably come home to her house being searched. Cassandra Cassidy groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing it. Other than a mean headache, everything so far made her feel...numb. A mix of confusion, awe, existential fear, and worry about her coworkers' reactions had blended into a feeling of nothingness. There was simply too much to feel, to sort out and try to piece together, leaving Cassandra as an emotional blank.
There was no doubt in her mind the feelings would rear their ugly head later. How they reared their head Butch didn't care to think about. Instead, she stared at the horizon she had been allowed to look upon, trying to clear her thoughts.
It had been a long, long twenty-four hours. No, more than that - about twenty-seven or twenty-eight by now. First had come her rescue from an alien jet by another alien in the form of a car. Then came the revelation that her planet was the secret battleground of warring robots. Then came the interrogation by one Agent Fowler, whose looming presence and prying questions unnerved her more than she'd admit. Finally, there was the ultimatum: she was to stay on base until Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, could speak to her. No going home, no contact with the outside world, nothing.
And since she never called off work without giving ample warning at first, her never showing up and not being home would raise alarm bells. If Bridget or Kaspar didn't call the police, her boss would. She'd probably come home to her house being searched. Cassandra Cassidy groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing it. Other than a mean headache, everything so far made her feel...numb. A mix of confusion, awe, existential fear, and worry about her coworkers' reactions had blended into a feeling of nothingness. There was simply too much to feel, to sort out and try to piece together, leaving Cassandra as an emotional blank.
There was no doubt in her mind the feelings would rear their ugly head later. How they reared their head Butch didn't care to think about. Instead, she stared at the horizon she had been allowed to look upon, trying to clear her thoughts.