"Our lives are not our own. we are bound to others, past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future." - Sonmi-451, Cloud Atlas
NATIONALITY • Japanese
BORN • Osaka, Japan
AGE RANGE • 22 to 26
BIRTHDAY • October 14th
SEXUAL ORIENTATION • Straight
HEIGHT - WEIGHT • 5'2" - 105 pounds
BODY SHAPE • Rectangle
HAIR - EYES • Black - Brown
GLASSES • No
LANGUAGES • Japanese, English
OCCUPATIONS • Waitress, Pilot, Ex-Dancer
EDUCATION • College
NERVOUS TICK • Cleaning Nails
WEAKNESSES • Comfy Sweaters, Socks
TIME OF DAY • Night
PIERCINGS • Ears
TATTOOS • None
SMOKES • No
HOBBIES • Dance, Embroidery
EXERCISE • Yoga, Pilates
MUSIC • Flaming Lips, Japanese Breakfast
MOVIES • Densha Otoko
BOOKS • Manga (One Piece), IQ84
FOOD • Onigiri
DRINKS • Anything Carbonated
COLORS • Orange, Green
PET • None
SCIENCE FICTION • CIRCA 2018
“You look,” turning his eyes he looked the small pilot over before smirking, “surprisingly nice Officer.”
Scoffing Mai let a little shake escape her head before taking a sip from the sparklingly white wine in the glass. Swallowing she sighed, her eyes focused on the crowd. “My sisters sent the dress,” her voice was flat, “otherwise I fear I would have been quite the embarrassment to the Federation this evening.” Taking another drink her lips were tight, as she looked sideways at Jayden, lowering the glass as a small simper was left on her expression.
“Well it is just the start of the night, don’t count yourself out yet Mai.”
Chuckling a brighter smile spread to her features as she turned her gaze to the man, having to tilt her chin up to catch his gaze. “You are right, the longer I stay, and the more I drink,” her hand lifting the delicate champagne glass in her hands, “the more chance I have to embarrass all these fine people.”
It was almost a challenge. Her eyes immediately shifting over to her father across the room, his military metals catching the light of the room as he spoke with others. Looking at the man she felt the fire in her gut, the drive for the mission to begin.
“I will be done a service with every mile I put between myself and these people.” As the words left her lips her posture seemed to tighten. Her eyes having drifted from her father, locking onto a familiar face that seemed to break through the crowd, his complexion seemingly bright compared to the aging faces of the Federation Generals with their spouses and contractors.
There was only one reason he would be here.
The same reason she was.
Blinking Mai tried to shift her weight, feeling her heart start to pound in her throat before forcing herself to take a quick drink of the wine before bringing a small grin to her lips and looking at Jayden. “Alright Captain, you go charm the investors, I’ll stick the edges.” With a smirk she stepped away, hearing a chuckle escape Jayden as she slipped down the stairs, her lithe figure slipping between other guests as she tried to find the corners of the large gala space. Trying to go unnoticed – at least for now.
Watching the woman go Jayden shook his head, her word choice always seemed to hold a bit of venom when discussing the military. Investors. It was a blatant, non-regulation way of putting it. They were the holders of government contracts, ship builders and weapons dealers. They made money selling to the federation, but it was technically illegal for their private businesses to then profit from any specific government mission with the federation. And yet, many of the men and women in this room seemed to always be the first to mine a new planet… To say they were investing in the military was, certainly, a bitter way of putting it.
Looking down in the amber liquid in his glass he tried to hide a little grin before taking a drink, feeling the pleasant burn travel down along his throat.
Without thought he returned to his upright posture, his shoulders squared as he let brown eyes drift about the large hall, pausing on the dance floor. He watched the carefree spouses already buzzed with alcohol flitting about in the slow movements of the elegant dances. He knew the steps… in fact; he remembered his wife, her breathy voice teaching and reprimanding his stiff gait.
Mai was right. They would both be done a service with every mile that was put between them and these people. These memories.