Dextrainia

"How does the black suit feel, Selene?" The maintenance worker questioned. She moved her left arm up, and it felt comfortable.
"Fine. Feels like wool. This thing can stop a bullet, right?" Selene responded. She looked down and thought about it. A bullet. A metal casing fired from a gun could enter her body- and kill her.
"Most likely, but don't depend on it too much. Just remember that it's better than a bullet proof vest, and if your opponent is using a handgun, then it'll most likely stop that." She felt slightly relieved from that, and since most assault rifles had a lower caliber than pistols, she would be hopefully be able to have enough time to duck for cover or fire back. "Seems about done," the engineer said, "you're ready to go. Be sure to do daily maintenance on it, like cleaning."
"Alright, thanks." She said. She walked over to the door that led to the living quarters with her black suit and opened it. Tensing up, she walked down to her room, opening it and revealing the cozy little place. She took off her skin suit after closing the door, and put on some actual clothes. She almost regretted it, but then sighed and put away the black suit and skinsuit in two separate closets. She turned her attention to the photo on her nightstand, from her boyfriend back from when she wasn't involved with the magical entities. She began crying and, finally letting the rage consume her, smashed it into two pieces. It reminded her of the days when she didn't have to worry about dying, before worrying about where her friends didn't have to die alongside her, where her family didn't have to die. She knew those days were gone, however. She looked down at the stapled papers with the big words of doom on them: "WELCOME TO THE GLOBAL OCCULT COALITION." She flipped it over and looked at her serial number. 56894764/653. Fairly easy to remember, right? Next, was the part she had waited for, this entire time. Her codename. A representation of who she was. Something she would be remembered for, forever by her squadmates, co-workers, everybody she met would have an impression on her based on it. This made her cry even more, staining the paper with the tear drops. From now on, she was a member of the GOC. She wiped away her tears, and looked to the codename section.
"Packwolf?" she muttered. "PACKWOLF? WHAT THE FUCK! THAT'S SO FUCKING EDGY!" she began yelling. She buried her head into her arms and sat down, groaning; but not crying. She knew she had to man up for what came ahead.

"Packwolf? Really? Isn't that a little edgy?"
"She won't take it well, but it describes her. She's excellent in cooperating and communicating with a team, and she passed our team tests with perfect scores. She goes in for the kill with her pack. That's why I chose it… but yes. It is edgy."