Nov 15, 2014
originalprotagonists
"... Ma... ma...?" The lenses of her eyes narrowed and expanded, cold blues zooming in and out on the features of his face, comparing it to the static sliced clips of her memory. Brunette, check. Light eyes, check. Contraption on his head that could be used for communication... check? To borrow the idiom, she was grasping at any straws available to her. Even the lack of a sentence above his head did not deter her from jumping to conclusions.
"Ma-Ma-Ma-Master? Master. Facial recognition inconclusive. Priority is returning to the containment cell. Exit permit not not not not granted. We must ret-ret-return to the containment cell."