[center][h1][color=17A589]Carla Lobo[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr][center][color=17A589][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Bridge[/center][hr]

Huh, Reapers. Carla didn't show the jubilation of her fellow sociopath, Foy at the arrival of the human-consuming faction. If anything, she looked a bit disappointed. Sure, you could kill as many Reaver as you wanted and nobody gave a damn, in fact such activities were probably the only universally approved form of murder, but they didn't provide the same rush. By the time a person had fully become a Reaver, they were no longer a person anymore, sure their body would slacken and grow cold like anyone else, and if you dared get close enough could even see the twisted light leave their eyes, but they were a mockery of human life. And destroying a mockery didn't carry the same impact as it would for the genuine article.

Physically, the difference in experience would be comparable to the following situation: watching an action blockbuster in the theater and watching that same movie on a 20-inch CRT at home. It provided a serviceable experience, but ultimately ends up a far more flaccid experience. As it stood, the Reavers just interrupted a double-feature to be replaced with a marathon of the uncut version of The Lord of the Rings, and even then they might flake out at the last minute.

All that in mind, Carla still had to get ready for possible battle, which meant gearing up. And gearing up meant leaving the action packed bridge to the familiar solitude of her quarters. As for her gear of choice, she decided to don her tactical vest for extra defense and carrying space, and extra ammo for her revolver. Everything else she had prepared was far too large for any combat that could potentially occur inside the ship proper. Maybe that sniper rifle would get its chance to shine soon, but today would not be its day. Now properly decked out for popping Reavers, the assassin made her way back to the Bridge and all the shenanigans going on there.