Post by Sofia on Mar 13, 2018 19:00:51 GMT -5
Sofia let loose a long, slow breath, her shoulders slumped forwards as she trudged through the halls of the Third Division, feet dragging against the tiled floor. Her hair was, by all accounts, neater than it had been in years- freshly cut, combed, and conditioned, it shone with a soft luster that matched the rest of the woman’s subdued appearance. Her uniform was newly ironed and pressed, unwrinkled save for the natural folds that occurred from wearing such an outfit, while her Zanpakuto sat at her side, polished, oiled, and brushed to an almost perfect shine. All in all, the woman looked far better than her sluggish attitude suggested, her gaunt, hollow face the only sign that anything might be wrong.
A hand came up to the Shinigami’s hair, slender fingers running through the chestnut locks as she pulled herself around a corner, gaze locked on the floor despite how crowded the halls were. A quick glance up told her she was close to her destination; just a few more corridors and she would arrive at the general hospital where, among other things, she would finally be evaluated for active duty. The thought of that should have excited her- with a new Division to call her own, the chances of being sent back out into the field so soon after waking up were slim, perhaps even non-existent, but still…
Shaking the thoughts loose from her head, Sofia frowned, legs carrying her through the throng of medics and injured as she closed in on the lone secretary manning the front desk, gaze soft and understanding. It was a difficult job most days, dealing with people; she couldn’t imagine what it must be like now, with so many dead or wounded from the attack. She’d suffered her own fair share of injuries during the invasion, but those had long since healed- the scars of what had happened that day, however, still lingered, even now.
Approaching the overworked desk jockey with a smile, the Shinigami grabbed the sign-in sheet and scribbled her name in an empty spot before placing the clipboard down on the harried woman’s desk and heading off to one of the empty rooms designated for check-ups- someone would be along to see her, eventually, but as long she didn’t give the secretary anymore work, she was fine with waiting. I doubt it will take them fifty years to get to me this time. Although…
A laugh, light and genuine, slipped from the woman’s lips as she stepped into the room, features soft and almost happy. Regardless of her prognosis, regardless of whether she returned to active duty or not, regardless of what happened next, she knew- things would work out. They always did.
WC: 453
A hand came up to the Shinigami’s hair, slender fingers running through the chestnut locks as she pulled herself around a corner, gaze locked on the floor despite how crowded the halls were. A quick glance up told her she was close to her destination; just a few more corridors and she would arrive at the general hospital where, among other things, she would finally be evaluated for active duty. The thought of that should have excited her- with a new Division to call her own, the chances of being sent back out into the field so soon after waking up were slim, perhaps even non-existent, but still…
Shaking the thoughts loose from her head, Sofia frowned, legs carrying her through the throng of medics and injured as she closed in on the lone secretary manning the front desk, gaze soft and understanding. It was a difficult job most days, dealing with people; she couldn’t imagine what it must be like now, with so many dead or wounded from the attack. She’d suffered her own fair share of injuries during the invasion, but those had long since healed- the scars of what had happened that day, however, still lingered, even now.
Approaching the overworked desk jockey with a smile, the Shinigami grabbed the sign-in sheet and scribbled her name in an empty spot before placing the clipboard down on the harried woman’s desk and heading off to one of the empty rooms designated for check-ups- someone would be along to see her, eventually, but as long she didn’t give the secretary anymore work, she was fine with waiting. I doubt it will take them fifty years to get to me this time. Although…
A laugh, light and genuine, slipped from the woman’s lips as she stepped into the room, features soft and almost happy. Regardless of her prognosis, regardless of whether she returned to active duty or not, regardless of what happened next, she knew- things would work out. They always did.
WC: 453
