([i]Continued from original post[/i]) A half-smile pulled into one cheek in hesitation, as if she wanted to say something. “Well… once we’ve finished developing our AI, sentience shouldn’t be a problem.” “That’s all well and good, but it may be a while before we see any truly sentient Exo,” he replied as he buttoned his shirt from the top-down; Laila’s eyes quietly lowered to the armoire in front of him in a knowing silence. “Besides,” he continued, “Clovis Bray pays well and the work is as interesting as it gets for civilian guards. Hell of a lot better than combing terminals looking for contraband or bombs.” “Mmmmm,” An understanding sound rolled in her throat as she finished dressing and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator on the far end of the room. “I can [i]only imagine[/i], sounds terrible,” she teased with a coy smile and a wink as she took a few backward steps toward the door. “Well, not that I think you will, but don’t go easy on them. They need to know the risks of Exoscience research.” Merric smirked at himself in the mirror and side-eyed her on her way out the door. “Course they do- wouldn't [i]dream[/i] of it." Laila’s hand gripped a little tighter around the handle and she swallowed hard at the word “dream” as she pulled the door shut behind her and kept her eyes on her hand, thoughts drifting back to the face in her dreams, the voice, what he’d said. [i]Helping you remember[/i], he’d said. Remember [i]what[/i]? Laila turned into the dark room and took a few steps forward on the lacquered wooden floors of the studio and stooped to set down her keys and water bottle, then stood and tapped at a keypad on the wall beside her to turn on the lights and dim them as a soft piano melody filled the room; she’d always thought better when dancing alone in the dark. Flats slipped off as she dusted the chalk between her fingers, then onto her bare feet. Already she could feel herself moving to the rhythm of the melody. One hand wrapped around the wooden railing as she stretched one leg out long up and over the bar and leaned forward over it with both hands reaching for her ankle, then back behind her head to stretch her stomach before switching to the other leg, and then her shoulders and arms. When she was satisfied with her stretches and feeling nice and limber she turned away from the wall and gazed across the room. Toes traced the floor in circles as she stepped toward the center of the room, then planted one foot flat on the ground and swung both arms up tall as she swung the other leg around, locked out long and strong, and threw herself into a controlled spin. Though she spotted the wall, after the fourth, fifth, sixth spins, the room had started to blur, and she could have sworn she was seeing… sparks of light? Flashes of crackling blades. She could almost [i]feel[/i] the light surging through her, the arc swarming, circling, colliding blade to blade. [i]KSHH, CRACK. There he was again. [/i] Leg shot back out and she almost came to a dead stop but vaulted into a leap with bent legs, one arm strong next to her ear and the other out to her side, dipped down with her upper body on the landing and tucked one leg under her as she spun around on toe, swept herself upright, and stopped to stare at her reflection in the mirror with an uneasy frown. Blue eyes stared back at her from a face she barely recognized, as if [i]it[/i] was the memory. Hands slowly lifted to her shoulders and slipped over them, up her neck, her olive cheeks, and gripped at the sides of her head. Why could she remember so much about this dream world when she couldn’t even remember the last 24 hours? [i]The wars, the people, the horrors looming in the shadows- [/i] The witch’s screams pierced her thoughts like an arrow and she flinched suddenly, pulling her arms and upper body down toward the floor, but channeled it into a fluid movement and swiveled herself around as she pranced around the room. Memory after memory flickered through her as she moved on instinct, twirling, leaping, rolling; even this was familiar. They’d called it Bladedancing. Bladedancing led back to the Shadowsmiths, the Shadowsmiths led back to Twilight Gap, Twilight Gap led back to Nik, Nik to Andal, Andal to- [i]Him. [/i] Cyan eyes stared back at her from behind the iron-sights of a hand cannon and she gasped loudly, spun and dropped to the floor as the gun went off; as her body hit the floor with a loud thud and the clatter of her necklace against the planks, she was ripped back to reality, throbbing heart and gasping for breath and all. The room came back into focus, the lights, the music, the pale blue walls… she felt so far away from it all even though she was in the moment, could feel the floor, could smell the chalk on her hands. Was this place really home? Did she belong here? [i]It felt like he was trying to tell me something[/i]. None of this made sense, and the more she thought about it, the greater the intensity of the dissociation and frustration. Why was she thinking so hard about this? Of [i]course[/i] she belonged here. [i]This[/i] is what’s real. [i]This[/i] is what’s tangible, no matter how real her dreams may have seemed. Laila sat up and gazed across the room to see Merric’s face in the window. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there or even how long she’d been there for, but it was normal for him to have stopped by on his way to his post. A small smile tugged into his fair cheeks and his eyes lingered on her for a moment more before he left, something she needed to do as well. Hands lifted to rub at her eyes with the backs of her knuckles and she stood to grab her things and shut off the lights. It was a short walk back to her living quarters, but she always managed to find herself getting lost one way or another. Laila glanced out the windows stretching the entire length of the building, out across the red sands of Mars and the towering structures dotting the horizon, multiplying by the day. It was Clovis Bray’s legacy, at the height of the Golden Age, and she was proud to be a part of it. After a quick shower to wash the chalk and sweat from her body, she threw on a skirt and blouse under her lab coat, and pulled on a pair of knee-high boots before grabbing her badge and a stack of books off of her desk in the lounge, and whisked herself out the door and down the hall in the direction opposite of where she’d been before. Freehold was busier today than it had been in years- although the civilian transport had brought new, hopeful guards, it had also brought aspiring scientists to tour the facilities, which meant an overabundance of Civilian fodder. Clamoring voices echoed down the steel-plated halls slow and sluggish, as she wove through the crowd on her way to her suite, notebooks in hand and lab coat flapping open as she brushed past a few of the wayward students. A few minutes and several long hallways later, she placed a hand on the biometric scanner and held one open eye to the retinal scan and was greeted by a digitized voice. [i]Good Morning, Dr. Essam! [/i] “Good morning, Gloria,” she replied casually as the door opened and she made her way toward her desk. [i]Shall I re-open entry 8.5.2 from where you left off yesterday? [/i] “That would be wonderful, yes please,” she replied as she moved to set her things down… but hesitated with a soft smile as she noticed the plastic box sitting on her desk beside a lidded paper cup. Laila organized her books carefully before she reached down to pull off the note, which read, [i]Pancakes, as requested, and a latte for good measure. Figured you could use it after last night. Call me when you get a chance, I’ll be at my post. [/i] “Good Morning sleepyhead,” came a friendly voice from beside her, the owner of which grinned back at her fondly from behind slim rectangular frames. “Decided to sleep in a little today?” Palms flattened against her face to hide her embarrassment as she shook her head quietly. “I had some nightmares this morning that I needed to work off…” voice trailed off as she lowered her hands and smiled with a sigh, “So I stopped by the studio before before I came in,” she admitted, eyes flickering up to meet hers. “Oh,” she frowned apologetically, the playfulness draining from her face. “I’m sorry… I hope you’re feeling better at least?” Head shook, jostling a few strands of hair loose from her braid, and she tucked them back behind her ears with two quick sweeps of her hand. “Not really… but I’ll make it through the day.” Green eyes examined her cautiously, and she reached down to tilt her chin up to force her to look at her. “Laila… you sure you’re up for this? You know we can’t start collecting brain scans unless your head’s in the right place.” Laila’s brows pressed down and together and she smiled quietly. “Eva… I’ll be fine by next week. Don’t worry.” The brunette retracted her hand and shifted her weight onto her back foot. “Alright… but please, try to take care of yourself. And if you have anything you need to work through mentally, make sure it’s taken care of before the study starts.” “Of course Dr. Larson,” she assured with a grateful smile. “I’ll drop by your office if the need arises.” [i](continued in next comment)[/i]