Now that she has that out of her system, Anderson feels the rush of post-confession nerves. And she's eyeing her pile of gear herself, thinking about how she's not going to be able to just walk down to the armory and requisition more. She's going to need to make what she has count. She'll have to find someone who can make ammo for her Lawgiver. She'll... well. It's overwhelming, and too much to deal with right now.
Anderson unzips and shrugs off her upper armor, leaving her in a black tank top and practical black sports bra, as she answers. "Who knows?" she asks, almost flippant. "I don't mind-read other Judges unless I have reason to think they're corrupt, and no one likes mutants. I creep them out."
She doesn't exactly like most other Judges either, so there isn't a trace of regret or self-pity in that comment.
Finally she sits back down again with a sigh, having shed all of the traces of the Hall of Justice, looking very much like an edgy spacer. "What I'm saying is I didn't leave anything behind. Or anyone. I don't regret leaving, but I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to be anything else."
no subject
Anderson unzips and shrugs off her upper armor, leaving her in a black tank top and practical black sports bra, as she answers. "Who knows?" she asks, almost flippant. "I don't mind-read other Judges unless I have reason to think they're corrupt, and no one likes mutants. I creep them out."
She doesn't exactly like most other Judges either, so there isn't a trace of regret or self-pity in that comment.
Finally she sits back down again with a sigh, having shed all of the traces of the Hall of Justice, looking very much like an edgy spacer. "What I'm saying is I didn't leave anything behind. Or anyone. I don't regret leaving, but I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to be anything else."