[color=B0C4DE]By the time Abysso had tossed his claw into a side compartment and boarded the APC, it was already teeming with the rest of the squad. Throughout all his years at Oakridge, punctuality had never been his strongest point. The culrpit wasn't sleep deprivation- he had taken a good nap within the last twenty hours, but he was assisting a much younger student from the Warfare division with concealing a blade within her arm prosthetic, which proved more difficult than he had anticipated because she couldn't make up her mind as to if she wanted the blade to swing out like a door, or to just be able to retract like a cat's claw. Time just seemed to escape him whenever he took on a project, and though he wasn't late exactly- he checked his phone to make sure he had arrived within the given time- it was clear he was one of the last ones to board. 

The vehicle itself was on the sturdier side, he noted as he took a seat and secured himself, and some of the other Carriers lacked armor but more than compensated with speed or utility. Personally, he had never really taken a liking to piloting the more heavily fortified models. The interiors were full of sharp metal edges and he'd slammed his head on one-too-many roofs to enter one without reflexively folding his hands above his head. But, it made the most sense for this mission. They were soldiers, so comfort was understandably omitted as a design priority.

The stench of exhaust and burning rubber had become mundane after days spent in labs and forges, but the subtle odors of sweat and chow from others in the seating compartment was new. A bit of a recluse in the academy, Abysso mildly took note of the other passengers, some of which were his squad mates sent along for the same mission. The assignment had been read over with equanimity, and he was looking forward to leaving the academy for what seemed to be the first time in an eternity. His mission details had given the identification numbers of the rest of the unit but they were useless to him, numbers nearly always seemed useless to him. Tampering with and assembling engines and machines could feel cathartic at times, but multitasking with numbers and locations was a chore. It would be a pain to be the only one tasked with recording locations, so it was a relief that he recognized a fellow Navigator- Celise. He wasn't well acquainted with her, but they had taken enough of the same classes for him to know she was hardly incompetent. 

Listening halfheartedly to the chatter between the other student-soldiers, Abysso noticed a few other familiar faces. Celise nestled her head on the She-Wolf, the latter's typical air of restlessness nearly palatable in such a small space. Then there was Montero, with whom he'd shared more than a few words and a fellow nocturnal. It wasn't much of a surprise seeing all of them, they were Guardians after all. He hadn't met any of the other men in the cabin either, though most seemed to be of much greater stature so vaguely he wondered if they felt claustrophobic in the small space. The cabin wasn't small in comparison to some other Carriers, but he was never comfortable with being cooped up. 

If he couldn't see the sky above and feel the wind blow through him, it was hard to feel at ease. The other men all differed in disposition- collected, hearty, introspective, haughty. He didn't both acknowledging any of them. If they were assigned the same mission, all pleasantries would be out of the way soon enough. But he did know Celise, Ulva, and Montero. Though seated with his arms at his sides, gaze forward, if any of them took note once he was situated, Abysso would offer a slight nod in greeting. [/color]