[color=silver][h1][center]Merc Hair, Don't Care[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=white][center][b]Silverhold | Barnett Silver Mines[/b][/center][/color]
[color=silver][center]Summary[/center][/color]
[color=silver][center][i]The Crew now set firmly on the ground they head into town to get the latest update on the situation.[/i][/center][/color]
[center]
[table]
[row]
[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360043][img] https://i.imgur.com/Sy9cv6b.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]

[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360043][img] https://i.imgur.com/B3Mrhob.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]

[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360056][img] https://i.imgur.com/YULG7qv.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
[cell][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5360069][img] https://i.imgur.com/SJOjAQi.png[/img][/url][/center][/cell]
[/row]
[/table]
[/center]
 [indent][indent][indent]
OOC: JP between [@Winters], [@MK Blitzen], [@Yule]


Tim stayed with the ship. Tim always stayed with the ship, but then again, Serena had seen Tim in a fight, and his way of fighting was mostly covering his face and trying not to get hit, so maybe, she thought, that was for the best. “Gun check, mask check, gun check, mask check, gun check,” she said under her breath as her boots scuffled along in the dust. 

Dust was everywhere on Silverhold. The hot winds blew it around, redistributing it from the makeshift street to the porches and storefronts, leaving a sepia haze over everything, that, Serena noted, make it look exceptionally old-timey. 

“What are you muttering?” Vas whispered with a quirked eyebrow the duo bringing up the tail of the pack.  

“Just reminding myself of what tasks are ours,” Serena replied, putting an extra step in her march to keep up with Vas. 

“No, no, those were my tasks that I already did … yours was to sharpen the knives.” Vas clarified.

“I know,” Serena said. “But sharpening the knives doesn’t have a rhythm I can march to. Sharpen the knives,” she repeated, trying to take a step for each syllable, ending up taking tiny little steps. “See?” 

“I have … no retort for that.” Vas admitted.

“You two divas don’t chit-chatting? Can we look like a bunch of actual Merc - Pigtail please don’t make that face you look like you need a restroom.” Jago said flatly.

“He’s not wrong.” The punk snickered. "We can work on your war face later." He said with a sympathetic pat.

Serena scowled for a moment but consoled herself by thinking it may involve war paint, and she decided she’d like hers to be in the shape of a butterfly, or maybe even a bunny! “I do look like a merc,” she insisted, showing him her one braid instead of the usual twin pigtails. “This is my merc hair.” 

"Very intimidating," Doc said with a smirk as she made her way down the loading ramp at the rear of the crew. She already had her tinted goggles set firmly in place to keep out the dust as well as a small nose plug rebreather in her nostrils. To keep any crud from blowing into her mouth, she had tied a handkerchief around her neck which slung loosely at the moment so as not to get in the way of her smoking. "Well…" she gave the place a once over, "ain't this homey."


“Nothing like mercury poisoning to say welcome home …” Jago snarked. “ … Seriously don’t drink the water here.” He warned. “And you, no licking random shit,” Jago added jabbing a finger toward Serena.

“Oh stop it was one time and she's grown and learned from that! “ Vas defended. 

"Stunts your growth, diminished cognitive function," Doc pondered aloud, "I'd wager she hasn't grown or learned *because* of that."

Serena would have disagreed, but she was never quite sure with the doc if she was being insulted or not. She found that sometimes, it was best to just look pensive and nod.

“Maybe we'll do a blood test … later. Just to be sure.” Vas said innocently.

"Ah, quick to give someone else the needle, eh crybaby?" Doc mockingly shook her head at Vas as she trotted up to the middle of the pack.
 
[/indent][/indent][/indent]