Flying in on something half across the United States for work was something not so terribly new to any person who was working and had meetings in other states. For Amanda, a part in the air force had that kind of blessing and curse. Blessing because at least she had a good seat, a good plane and a friend in the form of a pilot and camaraderie, curse because she would also be of course getting the same kind of unfortunate hangover due to the plane. Not that she was prone to it oh no, she enjoyed the air above, but ones body was ones body and it becomes hard to try and stop something the body wants to do- in this case - to have a jet lag and possible migraine.

This time though it was all different for the to be handler - granted that she was briefed thoroughly by the amount of texts in front of her this time, her flight was accompanied by a well class - jet. One that was not so different from her normal plane and yet was terrible different as well. The fact that she did have texts to read sort of made it easier. But not as much as she would have been comfortable about. This was because of Division - and her now new tie to it.

By the time she did start to be in Division, she did expect that things would not be easy - as such, it was no surprise that she had to grapple her way through somehow - acting more like a "recruit" or what they call it than a proper handler. Maybe it was possible a learning stone. In the first few days of her being a handler, it was.. filled with a sort of apprehension at her so called recruits and everyone else. To be honest to herself, the place seemed like home, with it's metal walls and serious people - but the clothing was of course different, the faces were entirely younger, more somber, if she was honest with herself, Division didn't feel like a good place at all, at least -- if one looked at the non-technical aspect of it, because even her own technological side bubbled in excitement to see the very advancements this organization would be able to share with her.

As such, it was one of those days wherein she would be by herself, looking around for her recruits, she was lucky sometimes that there was someone who was there for her - more like, they probably took pity on their female handler against those of men that were already there, but then again, she didn't mind... things would get better somehow. Soon enough it did... as she sat alone at the mensa, wondering what her life would be like - she caught a very familiar tone, a tone that she hadn't heard for so many years but it still struck her as a feeling from home.

It wasn't a good feeling though, it was almost a feeling of both dread and even her heart felt like clenching as a result. To be honest with herself, it was quite too much to bear to just think about it. Throwing the rest of her meal into the designated area, she wondered if she just heard that voice in passing - but then she did find herself not going back to her room, rather she went to find that source of the voice, curious as to why it felt like she needed that small semblance of anchor. If it was something she was right about internally, and yet wrong once she sees the answer - and then she would at least be at peace with herself that it was nothing but just her own mental exhaustion and apprehension. But if she was right... then she would just have to suck it up somehow.