[Center][B]Paranatural Conglomerate Countermeasures Headquarters — "Subject 14791" Residential holding block D[/b][/center]

Roman Tapped his fingers on the nearby wall as the alarms rang throughout the cell block. The whole cell/apartment went from a pale white to a deep eerie blue as the feeding crew made their way in with gasmasks and shotguns. Rin couldn't help but give a light chuckle inside Romans head as she felt quite complimented. "Look Rome, they are playing our song." She joked. Roman on the other hand couldn't stand the sirens and quickly stuck a thumb in each ear to ease the pain. Once the motley crew came through the gateway Rin could instantly feel the familiar aura of Eddies presence in the small grouping of gasmasks. She couldn't help but get a little antsy at the thought of the powers that lay dormant in those already smoke filled lungs. It would make quite the comfortable temporary home if she ever got the chance. "Cool it Demon." Rome muttered feeling the stirring of the smoke held in his body. He didn't exactly know why she acted like so but it seemed to be only when there was other paranatural beings close by. He assumed it was one of the feeding crew. Most were hidden by masks but walker easily stuck out just by his walk and the strides he took almost in a cocky and narsassistic kind of way. It was quite amusing as the man referred to him as "princess". 

"Princess? I feel like a fucking queen with all this healthy shit, I wouldn't mind some of that good ol' American Mcdonalds that I keep hearing about.... " He paused as stone put the shotgun to his back and watched carefully as Eddie placed the food down nearby. "Speaking of grade a choice cow, how come your mother doesn't visit anymore Chuck?" Rome took advantage of Walkers silence to spit out one last joke knowing well that walker wouldn't shut his mouth unless he had a little birdy chirping in his ear. 

"Time to take a walk" Roman mimicked in the best texan accent he could muster. Roman hated the term and couldn't help but grimace at the thought of being an obedient dog of the PCMC. Never to let off his collar... only loosen the bands if he's good. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Defiantly he grabbed an apparently scolding hot potato and shoved it in his mouth before the bounded his arms for transfer to the medbay. 

"You know... I can't help but think this is payback for that time with the lamp... that was six months ago, you need to forgive and forget comrade." He smirked as he walked the long maze of corridors towards the medical bay. "In my own defense I assumed it was Eddie coming through the door first... no offense Eddie." Lifting up a shackled hand in an unassuming gesture. 143 steps to the med bay, he counted every time. The familiar smell of bleach and dry blood filled his lungs as many a people frequented here, but for now he had it all to himself. Before he could even step through the door a nurse wearing a gas mask stuck a hypogun straight into his neck. It was always the same woman because everytime he collapsed onto the floor he would see a very nice glimpse of the perfect set of legs. Almost nicer than that loudmouthed red-head in the pilots uniform he's seen around the base before. After a bit of motion sickness all went black and off he was to a dreamless sleep.

[Center][B]Paranatural Conglomerate Countermeasures Headquarters — "Subject 14791" Armory 14 code Blue lockdown[/b][/center]

Roman woke up with a massive headache and a horrible aftertaste of whatever chemical they pumped him with to knock him out so quickly. Rubbing the sore cheek he landed on he sat up off the rolling dolly and noticed the familiar Motley crew surrounding him in a much more relaxed fashion, yet still with shotguns at the ready just in case. "You know what? I take back what I said about the lamp, next time I'm using a chair." He joked. Whatever countermeasures they did to ensure his cooperation obviously created a less tense atmosphere for everyone. Getting up Roman walked around the armory looking through the glass lockers at the shiny weapons before he reached a dull old fashioned locker towards the end in which he took off whatever clothing he had on and started gearing up in BDU and kevlar like routine. 

"Hey Comrade, did you manage to find that certain... item that I've been trying to get back? You guys kind of didn't give me a chance to pack my things in Siberia." Pulling the kevlar vest over his head he quickly did the metal buckles and leather laces looking similar to that of his old uniform when back in Spetsnaz, obviously going for what's comfortable and familiar to him instead of some new age biotech bullshit when good old fashioned kevlar worked just fine. Stuffing all his left over clothing in the locker he walked back towards the crew to see a small wooden box sitting across from Walker. "That what I think it is?" Roman asked. His mind flooding Rin with millions of memories of his past and just as many thoughts going through his head of if its actually it. Quickly picking up the wooden box, he lifted the lid to see inside atop the red felt lined box was an old Schofield Revolver chambered in .44 Russian. The blueing was worn out and the wooden handle had seen age along with a slight swelling from the cold damp environment but overall in good shape and certainly able to shoot. Romans eyes widened as he realized it was the very same gun... he held his composure as he gave a quick nod towards Walker. "Maybe I'll hold off on that chair for a bit." He joked, placing the Revolver in the pistol holster on his left hip. Not the best fit but doable, making a mental note to get a propper leather holster when he gets a chance. "Are you going to be okay with that around you?" Rin asked nervously as she recalled all the graphic memories they shared. Roman stayed quiet knowing all too well what the answer was...