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Sima de los Huesos wishes her name were shorter.

Mainly because it's a pain in the a** to say. Everyone shortened it down to Sima which she was sure meant not what everyone thought it did. (Hell, she didn't even know what it meant, but it couldn't be good, could it?)

Either way, the long titled Saturn Page was on patrol again, her femur bone weapon being swung almost carelessly by her side. Honestly her walk was more of a strut than anything else. These pants were fairly flattering on her and made her look like she wasn't a giant, tall, gangly rectangle of a person. Her hair swung behind her, teeth in her hair clattering gently with the sway motion.

"Uuuugh, this isn't fun," she muttered to herself. "I'm a magical girl. I should be getting killed or something. Instead I feel like I have a thumb up my a**!"

A voice startled her enough to almost trip over herself. Sima whipped around and squinted at the general direction, looking for the source of the voice.

And then the woman landed in front of her and Sima scrambled back a little bit so they weren't so close. "Woah, hey there. Uh. ....Woah, where did you even come from?" She asked, red eyes narrowing on Methone, looking her over from head to toe. "Nevermind that. Who are you?"