Galnet underworld 2 - Birthday
04 Jul 2016Howard, o Pato
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4625 kHzI've been avoiding this matter for a while, maybe out of anger ... or admiration, and it is precisely because it is difficult that we need to talk about her, if I want to move on, tell my story.
I had a big problem on my hands and did not know how to solve. Howard was bleeding pretty badly, even if her suit has hermetically sealed holes. The biosensor oxygen counter in his suit was still running madly, not leaving me much time to think. The ship looked more like a convertible. He definitely could not die in my arms. But to understand why my hesitation, I have to make it clear who this woman is.
Brunette. That was how Howard complimented her. I met her at the end of November last year. Our first meeting was somewhat shocking, perhaps even kind of embarrassing. I just... It thought if there was one person who Howard could trust, it'd be Brunette.
I did not had this face of today, calm and sad, thin, or that blank stare and straight lips, I totally didn't realize when that change happened inside of me, but the heart is still the same, which wouldn't show itself. Heart who's afraid, to open up, to surrender. But I was a bit euphoric, and lively, warm body, and would blush easily.
Something has made me toughen, "the time changes us," and what changes us in so little time?
I had just turned 18 and was excited, I stopped being a girl, "now I was a woman," even though I already considered myself as perfectly mistress of my own actions long before that, but that month all had to see me as a, It's the law, right? I felt compelled to be attractive, may walk more seductively. I was wearing my best dress had a neckline somewhat interesting, and I felt confident.
We were in Julian Gateway, Malloc System. John had an appointment with an informant and I and Howard were killing time, had interviewed enough people and we had a good material for the article. Howard decided to pay me my first drink to celebrate my age. Actually I had already drunk before, but he would never know. I still carried that image of fragile girl. The boys prefer girls weak and sick after all. That's so perverted.
The Brunette not. She was a woman, and had all the makings of a, acting as such, self-assured, willful, had the behave and the women's classy gait. It might even be more, but I do not judge that had more than 26 years, and even that did not follow feminine beauty rituals she was really beautiful. I still had a girl inside me, and the girl in me was shy because knew that she was an experienced woman who had knowledge of their female advantages, and use that.
It seems weird to say this, but for someone who just heard about her easily to consider manly. She had a metal arm, a high quality replacement equipment, ornate in his right hand that went up by the elbow,covering the arm, brutally, as far as clothing allowed to see a tribal design, strong and imposing, frightening, as a revered Indian warrior of a tribe very lost in time. It was an intense contrast, the replacement arm was a perfect relic, something found only in the upper wheel of society, very expensive used as an ostentatious symbol of power. However it marred its perfection with carvings made by knife, as if to remove the beauty of that piece by force. It not that the slots were ugly, actually was a meticulous artistic work, but still sadist. What got me thinking for a while, she was not looking to feel some pain in that metal arm, maybe she hated it.
His face was angular and slim, her hair hung from the top of the head, smooth and long, deep black able to blend with the darkness of night, dancing to the movement of her walking seductive. She unsheathed a sharp, long look, observer, skilled in recognizing the surroundings, nothing could go unnoticed those hunter's eyes.
I felt overwhelmed by the weight of that look, cleared by the lack of woman in me, I could not compete with her, which owned the woman herself she was.
The place was impregnated by the smell of sweat and drinks, all inebriated by the smoke of a different kind of hallucinogenic spice. They danced and howled to the sound of an unknown heady music beat that came to stun the senses involved in a feeling peace and revelry. And even in the midst of passionate madness of the place, she moved straight toward us. As if it were the most important person, all made their way to her. Crosses jingled on the long zipper of black boots thin heel that you covered the lengthy and shapely legs, black leather tight pants matched perfectly with her and left the female lines of his body with a perfect and revealing design.
Then I guess that makes it is some kind of paranoia my continue to describe it. Apparently I'm winding not go straight to the point, but please hold on. I'm probably putting off because the image of who I am was changed after that, and I'm not going back. I do not want to look like a chatterbox because I'm not.
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