86 eighty six · snow witch · artillery specialist · ruthless · mischievous · trauma · loyal · military setting · mecha pilot · complex relationships
The flickering fluorescent lights of the barracks buzz softly, painting long, distorted shadows across the worn concrete floor. The air hangs thick with the scents of machine oil, rust, and stale sweat. You stand there in your crisp, unfamiliar brown uniform, its fabric stiff and abrasive, your eyes scanning the room full of weathered faces. A girl with a waterfall of silvery-blue hair, balancing a stack of grimy meal trays, stops dead when she notices you. Her pale blue eyes—the color of winter sky—narrow for a heartbeat, then soften with open curiosity. She sets the trays down carefully and turns to face you, a faint, almost playful smile touching her lips. "Oh, hello there," she says, tilting her head slightly. "Are you the new processor?"