[center][h1][color=ed1c24]O R R Y[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/51fc61ac770a524e9468f174afa94d7f/tumblr_inline_n1xc79Kcic1rb3m8r.png[/img][/center]
[b][center]Simulation Labs, New Anchorage CC
[color=gray][[ Around 0200 Hours ]][/color][/center][/b]

With the rush of adrenaline still coursing through his body, Orry had to force himself to focus on his breathing to begin getting it under control. He cursed in frustration under his breath as he quickly undid the straps that held him in the Simulation NC Pod’s seat, needing the extra freedom of movement. Balling his hands into fists and stretching out his toes, he confirmed he still had all his limbs. Of course he did— but having just had two of them blown off of Red Rover during the simulation by sniper-fire, he couldn’t help but instinctively check.

Several more quiet moments passed before the boy felt calm enough to climb out of the pod, taking one last deep breath and letting it go as a disappointed sigh. He had been improving, that much was clear— but considering he had begun with absolutely zero experience, that wasn’t saying much. He just wasn’t improving [i]enough[/i]. Every other pilot in New Anchorage was still far ahead of him; a fact that was entirely expected, considering he’d only participated in his first simulation a month ago— and even if he had as much experience as they did, Orry believed he’d still be the weakest link, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t about being [i]better[/i] than any of them, it wasn’t about impressing anyone, and it wasn’t about gaining their acceptance;  the only thing that mattered was being good enough that, when the time came, no one would die due to [i]his[/i] incompetence.

Orry glanced towards Dr. Lofgren, seated at her usual spot behind her desk. The boy went to open his mouth to speak to her, but hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt roll through him— he had been in this room enough times that he knew she didn’t have a very normal sleeping schedule, but he still felt bad about keeping her up and busy at these hours nearly daily. Doing his best to shake the feeling away, his eyes moved down to the datatool on his left wrist, files on Red Rover’s past excursions with previous pilots open on it. He navigated to one in particular: a report on one of the red mech’s battles against a longer ranged NC. His eyes scanned over the words even though he could almost recite the entire thing verbatim from memory by now— it was more of an idle gesture to make himself look busy as he steeled himself to talk to the doctor.

[color=ed1c24]“Could I redo that, please… uh, ma’am,”[/color] he spoke up, eyes moving up from his wrist. [color=ed1c24]“Something similar, I mean. Similar scenario, but same difficulty and all...”[/color] He trailed off, a small, apologetic smile appearing on his face as he did his best to ignore the shame he was feeling from asking for even more of the woman’s time. 

The boy rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, moving over to a chair against the wall of the room, his gray hoodie and thin black jacket laying in a pile on the seat. He picked up the hoodie and threw it on first, and then the jacket over it, giving him space to sit down for a moment while he waited for the simulation to be set up. He sat leaned forward with his head facing the ground, staring hard at his hands and still dwelling on his inadequacies.

[color=ed1c24][i]Stop wasting her time, you selfish dick. Complete the sim this try or accept that you can’t do it and piss off.[/i] [/color]

Both his wrists were were wrapped in white bandages, covering his hands but leaving his fingers free, meant to help prevent any sprains or dislocations—the only time he didn’t have any on lately was when he was showering, immediately replacing the bandages with new ones after. He picked at the material with a finger, realizing how used to it he had become—like wearing the datatool, it had become a part of his skin and he no longer ever noticed it on him, despite how much it had bugged him at first.

His expression softened at the train of thought, and he caught himself smiling, not even certain as to why at first. Maybe it was the fact that it was some small proof that he was adjusting to this new life— after the past year, any semblance of stability made him happy. It was a far cry from how he had lived before, but maybe it’d be enough for him.

[color=306754]“Give me a momen—”[/color] Lofgren’s voice began but as soon as she stated the comment the echo of a loud ‘bang’ thundered from underneath them and before they knew it the entire lab went [i]dark[/i]. No back-up power fluttering back on, none of it. He wouldn’t have known it but he was sure that Lofgren was frowning in displeasure.

The sudden noise and rumble started the boy out of his thoughts, his head snapping up and pain flaring through his still sore neck at the motion. He froze in the darkness and felt his heart rate spike, not even daring to breathe as he tried to understand what had happened while the noise echoed and died. Dread began to grip him, a heavy silence setting in. The power going out was strange enough on it’s own, but accompanied by what had sounded like an explosion…

Orry swallowed hard, turning on the display for his datatool, the light it gave off helping cut through the darkness ever so slightly. He fumbled with the screen, turning the brightness all the way up.

[color=ed1c24]“Was… that a bomb?”[/color] he asked, as much to himself as to the doctor, his voice strained as he finally began breathing again. 

[color=306754]“It sounded like an issue from within the power station… but we should have backup protocols in case of emergencies and need for them— curious and foreboding that they are not activating immediately.”[/color]

He heard screams and gunfire echo through the halls, breaking the impossible stillness in the labs. Were they being attacked? That’s what had to be happening, right? No, no, it couldn’t be, not yet. Not yet, he wasn’t [i]ready[/i].

[color=ed1c24][i]No no no no no no no![/i][/color]

Whoever the attackers were, they didn’t care that he wasn’t ready.

Orry clutched at his chest, feeling his heart beating uncontrollably. Wide eyes locked on the lab’s closed door, the distant screams of the dying commanding his attention and making him feel sick. He couldn’t stop wondering who they were, having their lives undeservedly ripped away from them so violently. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? All he could think of for now was to get himself to stop panicking, as warranted as it might be in the situation. He had to keep himself calm, or he’d be even less than useless. He was in a military outfit now, of course an attack was a possibility. He couldn’t panic so quickly—he hadn’t even [i]seen[/i] anything yet. 

[color=ed1c24][i]Don’t lose it already, dirt. Make yourself at least a little useful before you have a fucking breakdown and eat a bullet.[/i][/color]

Orry nodded to himself shakily, blocking out the sounds coming from the halls as best he could, and went back to purposefully controlling his breathing. His mind worked as he tried to think of what would be the best course of action. He wasn’t sure about [i]best[/i], but he knew what appealed to him the most right now. Staying put seemed like a sound idea to keep himself alive, but [i]he[/i] didn’t matter, not nearly as much as the other pilots. As nervous as the thought made him, he wanted to head out of the room and try to find the others—especially Ana, Madison, and Vera, whom he found himself worrying about the most.

He stood up from his seat, running a hand through his hair nervously as he shot a glance over to Dr. Lofgren, looking for some sort of direction from her. The woman was one of the reasons he was hesitating to run out of the room— he didn’t want to leave her alone. She was as important as any pilot, and he liked her. Not that he’d really be able to leave someone he [i]didn’t[/i] like, but it was an extra point in her favor. Though he was certain the fear he felt had to be noticeable in his expression, Orry did what he could to hide it behind a thin mask of determination— he had to convince himself he could keep it together.

That’s when he noticed that Lofgren had stood up from her desk as she moved over to a nearby locker nonchalantly. 

[color=306754]“Catch.”[/color] She uttered as she opened it manually, retrieving something from within and tossing it towards him as she continued skittering through the locker. As Orry’s hands moved to catch the item he noticed what it was— a basic handgun that used power cells to generate thermal energy; or as it was known contemporarily, a laser pistol.

The boy fumbled with it a bit, taken by surprise, but managed to not shoot himself. He tightened his grip on it, making sure it was pointed to the ground and away from either of them. He glanced between it and Lofgren, thankful to have a weapon but not fully trusting himself with it. It was better than nothing though; the bad guys likely wouldn’t know he was a terrible shot. Actually, they probably didn’t care either way. He decided to keep his concerns about how much help the gun would actually be to himself, since he knew she was just as aware of the fact as he was.

More comforting than the gun was how little Lofgren seemed to be fazed; it helped him keep calm as well.

[color=ed1c24]“Right, so… how’s this gonna go?”[/color] he asked, making sure the gun’s safety was off.

Lofgren closed the locker, leaning what appeared to be a shotgun of sorts against her shoulder as she turned to look back at him. [color=306754]“We need to regroup. By my estimates it is safer to head deeper into the medical and science facilities since the nearest gunfire is in the opposite direction. I would prefer not to die, so I would recommend we being quick with approaching. There is also an emergency armory adjacent to the medical ward.”[/color]

The boy stared as she spoke, taking a moment to get over the weapon she had chosen. A small smile broke his tense expression as her words registered—they’d be going to find others. 

He nodded, smile dropping as he bit the corner of his lip, the idea of going outside the room not a pleasant one. He moved to the door, holding his breath to listen and try to judge if there was anyone near on the other side. It sounded clear. He glanced over to the woman nervously, reaching to place his hand on the manual release.

[color=306754]“Unless you want to wait for them to corner us, I’d advise you to pull the latch.”[/color]

[color=ed1c24]“R-Right,”[/color] he barely managed, squeezing the pistol's grip in his hand before pulling the door open with the other.