An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Mila was left to her own devices after a rather eventful morning. Mostly just to try to rest and calm down. She had managed to convince Gibson to let her at least walk around the base a little bit to stretch her legs. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective metal of the walls and groaned in irritation. She looked rough. Bruises and artificial membranes on her face, her arms still wrapped in bandages and wearing her pajamas because she needed something comfortable to wear. It was still hard to process. Her little brother was going to be moving out of her home soon, years before she ever thought she had to think about it. Even the thought made her heart clench with anxiety. Maybe part of this "walk" around the base was more so snooping than she'd rather admit. To be sure Chiro would be growing up in a safe environment here too. Walking into the orange elevator, she waited for it to activate and momentarily forgot that this was the broken one… Too late, she realized it, when it vibrated, instead of just moving. "Oh shi-!" Mila was cut off with a shriek as it shot upwards. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The elevator came to a screeching halt, jerking on the last moment as Mila was sent flying out of the thing. The floor rushed up to greet her face as she tried to brace herself. SPLAT! And that was how Nova and Chiro's combat training was interrupted as Mila laid flat on the training room floor, her limbs splayed out. Nova and Chiro both cringed in sympathy. That could not have felt good. "Mila?" Chiro hurried over to her, helping her up. "You okay?" "Anything hurt?" Nova rushed over as well, giving the woman a worried look. "You took a pretty bad beating the other day too…" Mila rubbed her face, glaring at the elevator behind her. "I should take a freakin' sledgehammer to that thing…"
I'm sorry Mila, but you are going to go splat as much as Chiro does. It's in your contract.