Fangs on the Plains

Freya slid out of the rest of her clothes with issue, wearing a many sizes to big for her pair of boxers, held around her thin wiht by a rope belt. She grabbed a similar colored pair of underwear, inspecting it. "I've never seen any undergarment like this man, except on the female overseers..." She tilted her head to the side, stretching the elastic bands. "Theirs were... thinner on the bottom part."

Lia's face burned, and she shimmied out of her pants, turning around to reveal her own, covered in, though not wholly made of, lace. "Like these?" She asked, avoiding looking at the girl entirely, now.

Freya cast a glance, then immediately looked down at the floor, standing almost straight up at attention. "Y-Yes ma'am... Almost exactly like that." She said in a near whisper, body completely rigid.

She pulled her pants back up, looking over at her curiously. "Freya, if you call me ma'am one more time, I might start inspecting my face for wrinkles. In my presence, at least alone, we are equals, here." She gestured to the clothes. "Pick whatever you think will make you comfortable and happy and we'll start sorting out what you would want to keep."

"Alright, Miss White..." She shimmied out of her underwear and pulled the new pair on, then set about dressing. She chose a purple blouse almost the same color as her underwear, a skirt colored black with white vertical stripes, a pair of white and red stockings that came up to her knees and a pair of black tie boots that came up almost as high. She grabbed a white leather jacket with a detachable hood, and finally she held up a red scarf, looking at it curiously. She looked up to Lia, offering the scarf. "Miss White, what's this?"

Lia looked over at her, an amused grin on her face. She shook her head, stepping over and holding her hand out for the scarf. When Freya gave it to her, she folded it over itself, hooking it behind her head and placing the ends through the hoop it created. "It's a scarf. It's to keep your neck," She pulled it up a bit, "and sometimes your face, warm."

Freya's eyes lit up, and she held her hand out. Once Lia hand the scarf back, she repeated what she had seen her do, looping it around her head and leaving it to rest loosely around her neck. She spun around once, giggling softly at how the coat seemed to flourish out behind her when she did. "Thank you Miss White!"

"Lia," she explained, not providing her a last name so as to not risk further 'miss'es. "Red," she said, for formalities' sake, "You can join us. Little one's a bit colorful.

Malcolm stepped back in, offering them both a smile. He sat down in a nearby chair, watching them. "Lia, if you wouldn't mind, could you ask her some questions?"

Freya sat on the edge of the bed, sampling each of the foods brought to her by Lia, looking between Malcolm and Lia, though looking more distrustful of Malcolm.

Lia nodded, looking over at Freya with that same, gentle smile on her face. "How'd you find out about that ship, Freya?" There was nothing threatening about her voice, nothing scolding, mere curiousity; the urgency of the knowledge was left completely unknown.

"For the last year..." She began slowly, looking at her hands. "I was working at a big factory, loading lots of ships just like that one with the same tanks. One day I decided to try and escape... I couldn't keep living like that... I heard the soldiers talking about something called 'neurotoxin' being in the tanks... Neurotoxin sounded bad, so..." Her hair shifted color, becoming orange-yellow and seemingly flowing in an imaginary breeze. She lifted a hand, a small flame hovering above her palm. "So I stole a gas mask and I busted the tanks..."

Lia nodded, "Did it occur to you what that might do?" There was something more professional to her voice, now, but she reached a hand out to hers, grasping it gently while her skin became hypothermaic and began to crack, extinguishing the flame.

"I figured... It would kill the soldiers..." She took a deep breath, letting it out through her nose and looking up at Lia with a determined expression. "A-And that was alright with me." She said simply, though her hand squeezed Lia's tightly, hair still floating around and still the color of fire.

Lia allowed her magic to take over further, her eyes glowing and wispy as her porcelain skin turned blue and began to crack, frost creeping over and consuming her long black hair. "Did you happen to overhear where it was supposed to be heading? We only found you because it ended up in Kira."

Freya shook her head, looking desperately up at Lia. "I don't know anything else. I was just trying to get away! I just wanted to get away." She moved her gaze from Lia, looking at the metal floors of the base, the tips of her hair still glowing softly.

"Freya." Her tone was suddenly that of a scolding mother, but she didn't squeeze her any tighter, merely demanded her attention in tone alone.

Freya almost immediately went rigid, back perfectly straight, even straighter than some soldiers at attention. Her voice became soft and meek, the affect of her many years as a slave. "Y-Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am...."

"Freya." She said, shaking her head, sending the chill going up the young girl's arm. "Do not call me that. You are not a slave, not a soldier."

Freya kept her head bowed down, starting to shake as tears came to her eyes. "I-I'm sorry ma'am... I-I don't know how to be anything else." She stuttered out, shaking in her boots.

"Freya, if you keep calling me that, I'm going to take the strawberries away..."

Malcolm stood up at that, walking over and resting a hand on Lia's shoulder, offering a shake of his head. "At ease, White." He turned to Freya, kneeling down and resting his hand on her shoulder now. "It's ok, Freya... It's ok..." He shot Lia a glance, raising a brow and hopefully silently instructing her to be more gentle.

Freya sat back on the bed, burying her head in her hands and starting to sob. legs tightening up against the bed. She was trying to ball up and make herself a smaller target.

Lia's eyes drifted to him. The girl needed to realize the difference between where she had been and where she now was. A slow smile spread across her face, and she set about sorting through the pouches of the duffle, finding a phoenix pin, a phoenix down feather locked in its center. She smiled, thumb tracing over it tenderly. She'd had two of these made, having saved hers, a bright blue one, for specific occassions. This one was red and brown, the eyes made of tiny pockets of amber.

"Freya," she whispered gently, kneeling in front of her. She reached one hand out to grab the girl's, slowly drawing it close to her.

Malcolm said nothing to the girl, simply keeping his hand on her shoulder, offering her some support.

Freya wiped her tears away, looking down at Lia, obviously displeased at her own actions. "Y-Yes, Miss Lia?"

"Eat, and we will discuss more of this later." Slowly, she gathered up the girl's discarded clothes, her magic receding slowly while she moved about. Clearly, the girl did not care about coordinating her colors, so Lia left everything on the bed.

Malcolm stood and left the room, drawing his bad from his belt and swiping through it, sending a message to command. He waved Lia out of the room for a moment, and once she was outside with him he offered her a smile. "I've just had her transferred to our care. We'll be moving her to the Fang's private level."

Freya, in the meanwhile, dug in to the hotter dishes, especially savoring the meat, a delicacy she had never enjoyed. She noticed them leave, but said nothing of it, simply enjoying the food. After only a few moment of eating, she found that she couldn't eat any more, her stomach overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations of fullness. She slowly stood and and walked to the door, knocking a few times shyly. "U-Um, hello?"