IN WHICH she enters TaskForce 141 to assist in battle and encounters dire decision-making, former enemies, and unexpected feelings for the other lieutenant along the way.
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Clara Spade ended up in TaskForce 141 with the sole purpose of fighting...
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CLARA never liked being covered in so much blood, nor was she fond of being dirty in general.
The blood splatters she occasionally received as a soldier could never compare to the amount she had on her the day she escaped. A stain of any sort already irked her to an extent, so having been drenched in that filth overwrought her.
Sat in a barren cell, she occupied herself in rubbing as much blood off of her as she could. Her friends joined her to sulk in isolation, each with an expression of discomfort. It was an unfortunate scenario for them— just as they exited the woods and thought they tasted freedom, they ran into who they now know were the soldiers that Strono was planning to kill.
Lynn laid her head on Vince's shoulders while she told Clara where the blood was most noticeable. "A little more to the left," she directed.
Clara hovered her sleeved shirt on her face to the left.
"Down a bit,"
Clara slightly dropped her hand.
"Yeah, there."
She hastily rubbed her cheek against the fabric for a few seconds. When she checked the sleeve, the cloth had a streak of blood.
She blinked at the stain. "Be honest, did I just smudge it on my face?"
Vince snorted, switching his view from the stained fabric to her face. "You made it worse."
Lynn slapped his arm. "It's not that bad for the amount of blood you have on you," she comforted.
"I'm sure you can somehow wash your face once we get out."
"If we ever get out," Rodney mumbled.
Lynn pressed her lips into a firm line. "We will. Right, Ernest?"
Ernest, who inhaled a concerning amount of smoke during the scene, kept having sporadic coughing fits to the point where it concerned everyone else.
He'd been practically suffocating on his breath when he replied. "I'll see."
Vince and Rodney talked the loudest in the cell, as usual. It was also those two who turned to each other after witnessing every little thing.
Vince judged Ernest's abnormal coughs. "I swear he has asthma," he told Rodney, "d'ya think there's any way he could be tested for it and get medication?"
Rodney snickered back. "The medication is called an inhaler, dumbass."
Ernest forcibly repressed his coughing to speak. "Technically," he gasped out, "the inhaler delivers the medication into a person's lungs, it's not the thing itself."
Vince and Rodney gave each other sideways glances, making each other's lips curl into a smirk.
"Please, just save your breath instead of being a smartass," Rodney commented.
