Artemis walked slightly hunched, forced into an awkward carriage thanks to her hands being cuffed behind her back and a C-Sec officer holding onto her arm tightly, pulling up slightly. She was limping just slightly, favoring her right leg, and she had a split lip, with her left eye beginning to darken and swell. Despite the cuffs and the state of her, Artemis was smirking, and there was a jaunty energy to her steps. Green eyes glittered with satisfaction and amusement, and she walked along with her captor as if she knew where she was going as they maneuvered through headquarters. She stumbled slightly though and her boots scuffed the floor as she began to turn right towards the holding cells and the officer escorting her dragged her back and they kept walking straight instead of turning.
The smirk was gone, and Artemis narrowed her eyes and gave the officer a suspicious glare. ”Where are you taking me?” She asked. The officer didn't answer her, just kept walking, forcing Artemis along with him. ”Hey asshole are you deaf or something? Where the fuck are you taking me?” She snapped at him. The officer answered her by slamming her into the wall, her head ringing and spinning from the impact. He didn't say anything, just kept walking, Artemis going along quietly this time, fighting off the disorienting effect of having her head bounce off the wall.
They seemed to finally reach their destination, the door sliding open as the office pressed his badge to the security device. The room was bare, with only the tell-tale one way mirror breaking the monotony of white walls. There was just a table with a few chairs on the floor, and that was it. An interrogation room? Artemis hesitated before the officer pulled her in then pushed her towards the table.”Have a seat.” He told her, unlocking her cuffs and releasing her before he walked out. Artemis stood there for a moment, rubbing her wrists, which were red and irritated from the cuffs. She sighed and looked at herself in the one-way. Her copper-red hair was a mess, sticking out at odd angles and sticking to her face, the tips dyed a dark turquoise, and her eye was darkening by the minute. She'd be pretty if it weren't for the injuries to her face.
Artemis walked over to the table, pulling out one of the chairs, and sat down, propping her boots up on the table. She wondered what this was about, why she was in an interrogation room for a bar fight. This was far from the first time she'd been arrested for such incidences, she knew the procedure, and this wasn't it. Artemis was a small woman, only 5'5”, with a lean, athletic build, long limbs, with feline curves that gave her the look of a predator rather than some busty home-maker. She was stronger than she looked, and fast, she was good in a fight, and could handle a gun thanks to her upbringing in a military family and her own time in the military before she'd been dishonorably discharged. Her real skill though, her calling in life, was piloting. Artemis was a damn good pilot, one of the best, and yet she found herself forced to squander her talent running drugs and guns for Eclipse. What a waste.
The smirk was gone, and Artemis narrowed her eyes and gave the officer a suspicious glare. ”Where are you taking me?” She asked. The officer didn't answer her, just kept walking, forcing Artemis along with him. ”Hey asshole are you deaf or something? Where the fuck are you taking me?” She snapped at him. The officer answered her by slamming her into the wall, her head ringing and spinning from the impact. He didn't say anything, just kept walking, Artemis going along quietly this time, fighting off the disorienting effect of having her head bounce off the wall.
They seemed to finally reach their destination, the door sliding open as the office pressed his badge to the security device. The room was bare, with only the tell-tale one way mirror breaking the monotony of white walls. There was just a table with a few chairs on the floor, and that was it. An interrogation room? Artemis hesitated before the officer pulled her in then pushed her towards the table.”Have a seat.” He told her, unlocking her cuffs and releasing her before he walked out. Artemis stood there for a moment, rubbing her wrists, which were red and irritated from the cuffs. She sighed and looked at herself in the one-way. Her copper-red hair was a mess, sticking out at odd angles and sticking to her face, the tips dyed a dark turquoise, and her eye was darkening by the minute. She'd be pretty if it weren't for the injuries to her face.
Artemis walked over to the table, pulling out one of the chairs, and sat down, propping her boots up on the table. She wondered what this was about, why she was in an interrogation room for a bar fight. This was far from the first time she'd been arrested for such incidences, she knew the procedure, and this wasn't it. Artemis was a small woman, only 5'5”, with a lean, athletic build, long limbs, with feline curves that gave her the look of a predator rather than some busty home-maker. She was stronger than she looked, and fast, she was good in a fight, and could handle a gun thanks to her upbringing in a military family and her own time in the military before she'd been dishonorably discharged. Her real skill though, her calling in life, was piloting. Artemis was a damn good pilot, one of the best, and yet she found herself forced to squander her talent running drugs and guns for Eclipse. What a waste.