Eric stared down into the dark blue of the oceanic abyss. He leaned on a railing and tried to think of any way he could get to the submarine without getting wet. He soon realized such a way didn't exist. He cursed, Nick Fury, the eye-patched David Hasslehoff looking twat. He knew Eric hated getting his clothes wet and especially hated getting his hair wet. But there was no other option. It was either that or get forced into jail time. 

Eric let out a sigh, it wasn't just the thought of getting wet, he'd also have to find a position where he couldn't be seen by a large number of people. It took around 20 minutes to walk around the Gulf and find a location where practically no one was around. Eric took the liberty of getting a few supplies before he dived down, which included and was only limited to beer. He drank a few bottles before stuffing the rest into a waterproof bag he'd bought on [i]Amazon [/i]a few days before. Nick had told him they'd bring all his stuff on board for him, but he didn't exactly trust the folks at S.H.I.E.L.D to not go through every inch of his things and only gave them the bare minimum. 

Finally it was time to find the sub and dive down to meet his new 'team'. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. He swam out to sea for a while before diving under, scanning the water after taking off his sunglasses. Eventually he spotted it, a big stupid black spot in the shape of a submarine. The Fantastic Four get a tower, the X-Men get a school and what does the famed vampire hunter, Blade get? A fucking submarine in the middle of the gulf of Mexico. This made him fear the rest of his teammates were just no-skill scrubs he'd been put with as punishment for all that unlicensed vampire hunting he'd been doing. Who knew you'd need a license for vampire hunting of all things, you'd expect it'd just be something you did rather than applied for. 

He swam down to the submarine, his enhanced eyesight greatly helping him spot it from far away. He felt a small pinch on his thumb as he opened the hatch. It must have been some sort of security system, making sure it knew who was coming in. This begged the question how S.H.I.E.L.D had gotten a hold of Eric's blood, and why they had it. He fell into the airlock, the water that had fallen in with him draining away through some concealed compartment. He was hit by a wave of heat as he took out his sunglasses again and put them back on. The bright lights were hurting his eyes to a degree. He was dried quite quickly, still, no excuse for making him get wet in the first place. He scoped out the submarine for a while, trying to find his room. He was in room 4-A, no doubt an omen signalling the 4 assholes he'd have to work with. He eventually found it and set his bag down on the bed as he got in. The room was small and cramped, like being a rat trapped in a box. S.H.I.E.L.D probably had a camera in there as well, same with the showers most likely. But who could blame them, if Eric was anyone, but himself he'd want to get a look at himself in the shower as well, if that makes sense. At least it had a TV, bad reception and all. He'd have to sign off for a DVD player at the very least, he thought checking the sides of the TV to see if it had one built in. It didn't. A monotone voice broke the silence within the cabin.
"Briefing in 25 minutes. I repeat, Briefing in 25 minutes."
He sighed, taking out a deck of cards and starting to play solitaire on the small desk in the corner.