The Walk of Death

Ground Zero

A Xensoan woman sat on a silken bed, hunched over in the darkness of her bedroom, both hands were locked with her thumbs pressed to her forehead. She was muttering quietly to herself, a prayer. 

"...and under your never faltering watch, I pray to you, my holy emperor, that today I may have the strength to defeat those who stray from the path laid out by you, and never stray from holiness myself. Anthropina Niki."  The woman finished the prayer by drawing the thumb of her right hand down from the spot on her forehead to the tip of her nose, then transferring the hand to her chest, a drawn out sigh easily escaping her.

Zoe rose from her comfortable bed, bare feet slapping against the floor. A crackling stretch and a tired yawn came from her not long after her stand. Waning moonlight crept through curtains near Zoe's bed as she felt around for her matches. She always woke up early, usually before the sun rose. Very rare was there an exception to this, and today was no different. 

Zoe struck a match along her bedside table top and put the flame to a small scented candle. She enjoyed her scented candles, especially the ones that smelt of Menta flowers, the flower of her homeland. Only a few candles were lit about her home, seeing as she was due to leave soon. Her last stop was her beloved kitchen, where after lighting the last candle, she opened the curtains, peering out to the still dim streets of Lisdohn. The first sun was beginning to crest over the horizon of the sea, and runners were scurrying along the cobblestones to snuff the oil lamps of the night time. 

Zoe tore herself away from the window, getting back to her daily routine. Wake. Pray. Wash. It was time for her wash. A splotched hand ran through thick cowlicked hair as the woman made over to her washroom, humming a song as she threw her nightgown aside, turning a small nob to get heated water running.

Zoe's new soap smelt of Ardbooshka flowers. She hated to admit she loved the product, even if it came from the Fariddi. She'd have to make some note to conserve the product, special occasion only. Fariddi product, while most of them unuseful to Zoe, would become exponentially rarer and much more expensive soon, this was guaranteed with the recently declared war. A quiet sigh came from the Xenosan as she scrubbed over her olive skin, along with the pale vitiligo-induced blotches that disrupted her skin-tone. Light spilled through her windows as she washed thick brown hair. The first sun was up completely now, the second shouldn't be far behind. After a quick glance out the window, emerald eyes shut themselves as a final bucket of now cold water was poured over the woman's head, she needed to get ready for her day. Zoe stepped from a porcelain tub, wrapping a rough cloth about her as she did so.

A still naked Zoe stood in front of her mirror, which was lined with a silvery metal, another sigh came from her as she examined her face, most focused about the slight dark under her eyes. Slight sleep deprivation was starting to show.

"Only twenty-six," The woman muttered in her native tongue, Xenot. " Why won't these go away. They never do. " She continued with a dissatisfied huff at the sleep-deprived rings. "Bah." She chuffed. Maybe nobody would notice. She went about with her routine. Wash your face, brush your teeth, do your hair. Zoe has her hair bobbed as usual, however, today she felt deserved.. something. After a quick pause, she reached for one of the many golden headbands she kept. Though, after reconsideration, she replaced it, deciding that a headband of gold would not fit particularly comfy under a steel helmet.

Zoe, as always, picked her jewelry out before she put on her clothes Today, she picked out four golden rings and two silver ones. None bejeweled, just bands. She always kept earrings simple, only two small golden clamps, for today. She couldn't remove her belly button piercing. As for clothes, she already knew what she was going to wear when she woke. She couldn't wear the usually exotic knotted robes that were so familiar to her culture, not for her job. Instead, a government issued set of work clothes, simple clothes of regal gold and bronze, design-less save for the sigil of the emperor at the chest. A pair of simple, yet sturdy, shoes accompanied this outfit.