@wraithreborn.
lacroix glances at their smokey appendages from the corner of her sixth eye, all other trained on the process of cleaning her gun. she pulls the bolt to the rear. checks the chamber and removes the bolt. she sees one smaller plume of what can only be described as blackened, thick smoke curling closer to her side of the work table. she doesn’t mention it. ( so far, in her opinion, they’re under some unspoken agreement not to mention one another’s mutations and modifications. )
❛ hand me the solvent. ❜ the sniper gestures vaguely, commanding as ever. while she waits, she considers her injury in the mirror over the table surface. today did not go particularly well --- this was clear to see from the small scar and black bruises developing around the eye upon her left cheekbone. ❛ i believe they’ll want me to come in to check the damage on this. i cannot move it. they may demand another reconstruction if they see the wound. ❜ some part of her still has the capacity to feel vaguely nauseous at the thought.