[h2][color=92278f]Sophie Castellia[/color][/h2]

[i]KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK[/i]

The sound of someone at the door of her apartment woke Sophie up from her rest, with no small amount of disgruntlement on her part. Falling asleep after her night shift job was hard enough without someone ruining it after 3 lousy hours. Who on earth would be bothering her, anyway? She'd specifically chosen [u]this[/u] apartment complex in [u]this[/u] part of Boston because, supposedly, nobody ever bothered with it. 

[i]KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK[/i]

[color=92278f]"Just a minute!"[/color] she yelled as she swung herself out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants. It was a gloomy, overcast morning in the Walking City, she noted, as she made her way to the door. [color=92278f]"This had better be good..."[/color] she muttered.

She cracked the door open and immediately wish she hadn't. Standing there were two middle aged men, all smiles and sunshine, wearing their Sunday best, and holding bibles in their hand. Great. "Hello ma'am," one of them began with that overly cheery tone that only grinded on Sophie's sleepy nerves, "We're here to-"

[color=92278f]"Christian, Mormon, or Jo-Ho?"[/color] she asked bitterly, cutting him off.

"Umm... excuse me?"

[color=92278f]"Christian. Latter-Day Saints. Or Jehova's Witnesses."[/color]

"Well, we're here to-"

[color=92278f]"Just answer the question."[/color]

"Uh... Mormon. We're Mormons."

[color=92278f]"I see. Well, let me tell you both something to take back to whatever place runs your organization around here. I'm not interested. I never will be interested. And even if I was interested, you don't want me. Good day."[/color]

"But, ma'am-"

[color=92278f]"I. Said. [b]Good day.[/b]"[/color] she responded with some bite to her voice and a slam of the door. She leaned against the door then, trying to calm the combination between tiredness and frustration. A few minutes later, when she was sure the men had gone by, she trooped back to her bed. But, as she tried to fall asleep again time after time, the images returned. Flames searing against her mind's eye. The memory of the rubble coming down around her. But most of all, the screams... the screams of her friends, the people who understood her, echoing in her ear as they died. It was the screams that refused to let her sleep. And rather than fight it, she supposed, it was better to just get up and find something to do around the house. Maybe she'd tire herself out enough to take a peaceful nap before work, if she was lucky? 

She scoffed at that notion and went to the closet to find a cleaning rag for the kitchen counter.

[h2]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/h2]

[h2][color=f26522]Alex Mercede[/color][/h2]

[color=f26522]"Hmm. Ooookay, if he's not coming through there, he's probably turtling..."[/color] Alex murmered to himself as he sat in front of his personal computer that he brought to work for the sake of playing games when he had nothing better to do. He'd already typed up the spare reports he needed to and thus far nobody had needed any programming assistance. Which meant he was left to sit here and toy with "N00bD3str0y3r" here as his mental warm-up.

[color=f26522]"Okay, so if I send you guys this way, and the rest of the tanks that way, he'll have to deal with a pincer and I can have some fun. Let's just do that, then..."[/color]

[b]“Would Miss Autumn Page, Miss Cassie Anderson, Miss Niah Bautista, Mr. Neil Maxwell, Mr. Brandon Hearne, Mr. Andor Lund, and Mr. Alex Mercede please come to the director’s office? I have missions for all of you.”[/b] blared the PA system, taking him out of his focus briefly. 

[color=f26522]"Or not. Sorry mate, can't afford to make this take any longer."[/color]

And with that, Alex scrolled over, selected the large aerial attack force he had spent the whole match building while his ground troops fought to the D3str0y3r's base, and sent them flying over to end the match in one fell swoop of bombs, missiles, and gunfire. There was nothing that was going to stop him; he knew there wasn't any anti-air available based on what he'd fought on the way in, which meant he could freely hum Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" as he walked away. 

A few minutes later he was bringing up the rear of the progression into the Director's office. [color=f26522]"Director. Cassie."[/color] he said, giving a nod of recognition to his boss and one of his kindred spirits from around the office. [color=f26522]"Well, seems we're all here. What's the scoop?"[/color]