Offscreen

Aston awoke to her body rocking slowly in place. She was in a large, brightly lit room. The only sounds came from air rushing through circulation vents above and below her. After observing her body’s movements, she determined that the breeze from the vents was causing her to rock in place. The air was cold, and it made her very uncomfortable. Still working off instinct, she tried to rub her hands together to generate some friction. She felt nothing, not even the slight muscle twitches she had felt before. Had she grown even further?

Chelsea was bored. No-one was going to pick her up for two hours, She glanced in her full length mirror and viewed herself "2 hours picking this out and they are going to be late?" she moaned. She was wearing her dark brown hair short to just above her shoulders. Leaning back on her desk she smiles at her short tartan skirt and strappy white top, so close it looked like a slip or night shirt, accentuating her breasts, she pouted and stuck out a hip for effect. "Not bad" she muttered, as her hand bumped into something on her desk.

A peaceful day in a meadow interrupted by a bad encounter.

Major Motoko Kusanagi was not having a good day. The weather was dreary, with thunder storms rolling overhead every few minutes, making travel through the slums a dismal experience. As she excited an alleyway into the courtyard in front of the abandoned warehouse, she wiped the rain water from her forehead and placed her hand on her hip, reflecting silently on what she was doing. Why was she, of all people, chosen for this assignment? These were petty drug dealers, a dime a dozen. Did they really need to drag her all the way across town to deal with them?