A/N: Jondy is Girltype's. See, Jess? See the pretty credit? It's called
faith- Get some. Anyway, the format's a lot like her's too. But it's mine.
As is Syl. Got it? Syl=mine. Just like Jondy=Jess's. No stealing. Credit
where due. Fragments fun.
Bored. Bored bored bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Syl sighed and tapped her metallic pink fingernails on the computer pad. She was completely, totally, indisputably and incurably bored. And solitaire just wasn't gonna cut it.
Who knows where Alec was? He was always good for a laugh. Or Max, for that matter. Or Krit or Zane or Joshua. Hell, even a little Logan-recon action to make things interesting. Syl was going out of her mind. Even her mental song-- uncreative as it was-- was no help to cure her boredom.
And boredom, in X5s, was a bad, bad thing. It led to nasty little escapades. Like the time she had gone out to see how many free drinks offers she could get in an hours if she wore a sheer top.
Or, in other cases, no top at all.
The game was known as the Free Drink Record, and it was somewhat of a joke between a few of the X5 girls at Terminal City. Right now, Rachael held the record of 20 drinks in an hour.
Perhaps there would be a reenactment of that time where she ended up doing a rain dance on the roof of a building with a cult, praying for the rain goddess to water their marijuana crop. Oh, that time was fun. Syl bit her fingernails, a bad habit she'd picked up somewhere along the lines. Manticore wouldn't approve.
Nail biting was a weakness. It showed insecurity.
Or at least, that's what they thought. Honestly, it was just an action, much like other people squirm when bored or hum. However, Syl considered while glaring at her hand, it was certainly an expensive habit. She had to repaint her nails daily. Although that was a distraction, so it was useful.
But no, actually, what sounded really good was some old fashioned Chinese food.
Yes, Syl decided, Chinese food would do well. Perhaps she'd stop by some video store and steal a couple tapes. There were some good classic chick flicks she hadn't seen recently.
Syl stood up and grabbed a coat off the bench. As she walked out, she glanced in the mirror. A blond haired, blue eyed, skinny but curvy girl peered back at her. She ran her fingers through her hair, the pink in her hair standing out next to her nails. The few pink streaks she had were a token to Jondy's last visit, where she and terrorized Syl into getting streaks-- Syl had said a flat out 'No' to a complete dye job.
As it was, the pink streaks were shocking enough in her blond haira. Once she got used to it, Syl had decided she liked the change. Pink was a girly color when it was soft, sure, but metallic pink and hot pink and those kinds of colors could be pulled off as hard-core chic pretty easily.
Yup, Syl thought, Pink was definitely not a girly color. She glanced down at her tight metallic pink off-the-shoulder top, the words "Ladies R Overrated" written across her chest in white glitter. The glittery writing made the glitter on her tight low cut navy jeans stand out-rather, the glitter on the light pink rose that climbed her right leg. Not the most color coordinated outfit, admittedly, but it was good enough. Most tight things were. Plus, Sly had noticed, people never seem to dislike what she wore. She could wander around in a plastic bag if she wanted to, and people would still like her for it. It was one of those weird human nature things, she supposed. She didn't give a shit, so neither did they. Which led to the strange and bizarre thought that the only way to get along with your peers and the general public was to not give a shit about them and ignore them.
Says something for solidarity, huh?
She shrugged and dropped the coat. It was black and covered part of her Ladies shirt. And she couldn't have that, now could she?
Syl wandered out of the commander's office, jotting a quick note:
Crew: Bored. Went for Chinese. If not back by hour before recon, send out search party-- chances are I found a bar and am making an idiot of myself trying to beat R's free drink record. Save me from myself. Or join me. Love, S
Nodding to herself approvingly and feeling as though she had now done the responsible thing and could now go act freely with a guilt-free conscience.
Who knew that consciences had loopholes? [pic]
Bored. Bored bored bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Syl sighed and tapped her metallic pink fingernails on the computer pad. She was completely, totally, indisputably and incurably bored. And solitaire just wasn't gonna cut it.
Who knows where Alec was? He was always good for a laugh. Or Max, for that matter. Or Krit or Zane or Joshua. Hell, even a little Logan-recon action to make things interesting. Syl was going out of her mind. Even her mental song-- uncreative as it was-- was no help to cure her boredom.
And boredom, in X5s, was a bad, bad thing. It led to nasty little escapades. Like the time she had gone out to see how many free drinks offers she could get in an hours if she wore a sheer top.
Or, in other cases, no top at all.
The game was known as the Free Drink Record, and it was somewhat of a joke between a few of the X5 girls at Terminal City. Right now, Rachael held the record of 20 drinks in an hour.
Perhaps there would be a reenactment of that time where she ended up doing a rain dance on the roof of a building with a cult, praying for the rain goddess to water their marijuana crop. Oh, that time was fun. Syl bit her fingernails, a bad habit she'd picked up somewhere along the lines. Manticore wouldn't approve.
Nail biting was a weakness. It showed insecurity.
Or at least, that's what they thought. Honestly, it was just an action, much like other people squirm when bored or hum. However, Syl considered while glaring at her hand, it was certainly an expensive habit. She had to repaint her nails daily. Although that was a distraction, so it was useful.
But no, actually, what sounded really good was some old fashioned Chinese food.
Yes, Syl decided, Chinese food would do well. Perhaps she'd stop by some video store and steal a couple tapes. There were some good classic chick flicks she hadn't seen recently.
Syl stood up and grabbed a coat off the bench. As she walked out, she glanced in the mirror. A blond haired, blue eyed, skinny but curvy girl peered back at her. She ran her fingers through her hair, the pink in her hair standing out next to her nails. The few pink streaks she had were a token to Jondy's last visit, where she and terrorized Syl into getting streaks-- Syl had said a flat out 'No' to a complete dye job.
As it was, the pink streaks were shocking enough in her blond haira. Once she got used to it, Syl had decided she liked the change. Pink was a girly color when it was soft, sure, but metallic pink and hot pink and those kinds of colors could be pulled off as hard-core chic pretty easily.
Yup, Syl thought, Pink was definitely not a girly color. She glanced down at her tight metallic pink off-the-shoulder top, the words "Ladies R Overrated" written across her chest in white glitter. The glittery writing made the glitter on her tight low cut navy jeans stand out-rather, the glitter on the light pink rose that climbed her right leg. Not the most color coordinated outfit, admittedly, but it was good enough. Most tight things were. Plus, Sly had noticed, people never seem to dislike what she wore. She could wander around in a plastic bag if she wanted to, and people would still like her for it. It was one of those weird human nature things, she supposed. She didn't give a shit, so neither did they. Which led to the strange and bizarre thought that the only way to get along with your peers and the general public was to not give a shit about them and ignore them.
Says something for solidarity, huh?
She shrugged and dropped the coat. It was black and covered part of her Ladies shirt. And she couldn't have that, now could she?
Syl wandered out of the commander's office, jotting a quick note:
Crew: Bored. Went for Chinese. If not back by hour before recon, send out search party-- chances are I found a bar and am making an idiot of myself trying to beat R's free drink record. Save me from myself. Or join me. Love, S
Nodding to herself approvingly and feeling as though she had now done the responsible thing and could now go act freely with a guilt-free conscience.
Who knew that consciences had loopholes? [pic]