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Kinda struggling on the whole 'we don't judge' part of the game, huh?

"Tractor?" Magda asked over a laugh, "My boy's a bulldozer more like." She offered, securing her bag to Scyllia's right hip. "It's just my clothes, but all I've got is one bag." The captain felt Scyllia's eyes on her as moved toward the Bio frame's hatch. Magda turned an eye to Patune. The big brute was likely to be pissed, but it was hard to guess at who. Mercifully it looked like the techs we're working on his railgun so he was distracted. "Hey Scyllia," she said stroking Scyllia's thigh, "I'm not here to steal your girl." She didn't add, 'but I'd sure like it if we could share'. Magda did tell the recon Frame, "Patune's probably

No worries. Thanks for sayin'.

I realize now my wording probably made it sound that way. My fault.

The cold mountain air was exactly what Emily needed as she left Magda's office. Out of sight of her commanding officer, the pilot ignited the electric nic-stik and took a heady drag that set her artificial lungs audibly skirring. She stared off into empty sky, tracing the ragged claw marks of thin clouds as she used her outward cool to cudgel the restlessness in her chest back into submission. "Fuck," Emily whispered, exhaling chemical wisps that mingled with the mist of her hot breath. "Fuck. That's what it is. It's just a fuck. Just some fucking sparring to blow off steam. With—With your captain." The lieutenant's flesh-and-bone leg q

I have 'taken care of myself' in a chapel. No one was there when I started, and if the guy who walked in realized I was there, he was very discreet about it.