Sarahs eyes still blazed with colours. Glitches and static distorting her view of the world. It was yet another reminder of just how much a freak she was. Her vision was so comprimised that Marlene actually looked like a deep azure stroke of colour moving in. She looked up towards it blankly. As if it was simply a hallucination. "Heh...Not at all, the only thing I can blame you for was giving me such an easy job...", she looked towards her with an empty smile. As Marlene was closer she would be able to see the servos in her eyes spazzing out; The apertures opening and closing randomly. Little, what seemed to be sparks, shot through her scleras and propagated through the fractal patterns on her face. The sensation of the comforting hand made her feel ill. As if the comfort was alien to her. How can an enemy's touch feel comforting...?Her head fell back into the corner and the sparks intensified for a moment before her head turned back to her. She took the bottle and took a drink. Ich...beer. She cringed, "Hah....damn it Marly....too weak", her smile seemed a little warmer but was still depressive considering her usual take on life. "I'm a freak of science.", she said softly. "At least I can realise that now, it's hard you know?", her spasming eyes seemed to focus on her friend, just for a second on her before going back to jittering. "Marly...I've tried for so long to block it out...But the nightmares just keep getting worse. I keep leaping on every moment of joy I can...hoping it just might filter through.", she stammered a little through it as she tried to articulate her thoughts.
Growing up in the union was a very alien thing to outsiders. Real emotions, other than national pride, were not considered to be something that was worthy of anything. Sarah could only take the mental beatings so long before the elephant that broke the camels back. Her hand shook before it found her pocket to bring out the little silver case once more. A quite beautifully rolled hand made cigarette. Victory tobacco. It was hard to get outside of Osbania, hence she had been saving the last of it. Now seemed as good a time as any. Bringing it to her mouth seemed to be an arduous task. Though no where near the level of difficulty she had in lighting it. Her hand seeming to only just manage a spark of the trench lighter she used. Before it finally caught a burn. The smoke from one of those things was acrid but the rush of nicotine and homesickness generated by it only served to make her sadder. Her body curled up, as if under attack from the world. "I...don't want this anymore...", she said before taking a desperate drag. As if trying to will it to burn harder. "I should go back....It might...", it seemed as if her brain triggered a defensive mechanism on the thought. Her finger began to rhythmically tap her knee as she tried to prevent her line of thinking being exposed. "They'll kill you if you try....", her words louder than she had thought. She looked at Marlene in a way that could only convey what she had said referred to the Panthers. In her head the national anthem began to play, she began to shiver as her mind came under attack from years of propaganda. Programming is a hard thing to kill and she'd been fighting it an awful long time.
Growing up in the union was a very alien thing to outsiders. Real emotions, other than national pride, were not considered to be something that was worthy of anything. Sarah could only take the mental beatings so long before the elephant that broke the camels back. Her hand shook before it found her pocket to bring out the little silver case once more. A quite beautifully rolled hand made cigarette. Victory tobacco. It was hard to get outside of Osbania, hence she had been saving the last of it. Now seemed as good a time as any. Bringing it to her mouth seemed to be an arduous task. Though no where near the level of difficulty she had in lighting it. Her hand seeming to only just manage a spark of the trench lighter she used. Before it finally caught a burn. The smoke from one of those things was acrid but the rush of nicotine and homesickness generated by it only served to make her sadder. Her body curled up, as if under attack from the world. "I...don't want this anymore...", she said before taking a desperate drag. As if trying to will it to burn harder. "I should go back....It might...", it seemed as if her brain triggered a defensive mechanism on the thought. Her finger began to rhythmically tap her knee as she tried to prevent her line of thinking being exposed. "They'll kill you if you try....", her words louder than she had thought. She looked at Marlene in a way that could only convey what she had said referred to the Panthers. In her head the national anthem began to play, she began to shiver as her mind came under attack from years of propaganda. Programming is a hard thing to kill and she'd been fighting it an awful long time.
