[center][h2][color=f49ac2]Ralph Darius[/color][/h2][/center]

 Ralph wiped sweat from his brow as he felt the last drops adrenaline leaving his body. His muscles seemed to be standing at attention. It was almost a ritual for him to hit gym just before he was due at work. He'd been doing it for years since he was a teen, and when a spanking-clean bench wasn't even plausible, in the zones he visited, he'd improvised. Luckily in those days all of the ships he had the pleasure of stepping foot on had at least a few pieces of equipment on board. As he grew closer to the building that - in his mind - he took as just another station, another, temporary place of work, he tapped against the wheel while reminiscing on how he felt the first time such a place got slapped down on him.

 Of course at that time it wasn't within his control and seemed to be isolated from the rest of the world. After a few moments he reached his destination, parking his car before walking into the ACPD. He gave a soft smile to anyone who passed, accompanying it with brisk hello's. Though many of them he only vaguely remembered or had a few bouts with in the fairly recent past, he knew better than anyone what a little courtesy could do to someones day. He went over to his designated within the S-SWAT department before changing into the underlayers of his uniform. The only added 'armor' he had with him was his famed helmet and buff, deciding that if push came to shove and they actually did have a mission, he'd wait till briefing to decide on the type of protection necessary. He double checked everything; assuring himself that his kneepads fit correctly, boots were properly laced, and trousers weren't sagging down. 

 He got into the area in which his squad was set to meet-up just as his new superior began to speak. He let out a breath of fresh air before falling into rank, taking the opportunity to size-up a few of the other candidates in his peripherals. Most of them were faces he remembered from training with that all too familiar sternness placed upon their faces. Then his eyes found themselves raking over the woman in front of him. Though he could definitely see her as coming off as... Less experienced, he knew a natural leader when he saw one. The true question was whether or not she'd be a good one, or the types that boasted oh-so-often but would attempt to mop a swamp with a duster. 

 The sound of a phone ringing interrupted his impromptu evaluation of her. The woman walked over to the department phone, picking it up with an evident look of surprise on her face. Ralph heard a few murmurs pass over his new teammates, but couldn't exactly make himself break rank for the life of him. He continued to stand with an emotionless look on his face - even when she strolled back over, relaying their first mission. As soon as she was done one of his mates asked a question that would've gotten a quirked brow and a cocked head had he not taken the position so seriously. In fact, Ralph thought the man was joking. From the way he talked he could at least decipher he'd taken up arms before, or at least was one of those gung-ho enthusiasts that dreamed of doing so... Obviously he should've known that such questions usually led to more than an ear-full, and that was if you were lucky. And lucky seemed to be on the man's side as one of the other's filled him in before the commander was able to.

 After that whole ordeal they seemed to be dismissed, though the woman in charge made no effort to excuse them. Ralph stayed in his place for a few more moments before deciding to follow in line with the rest of his squad, venturing over to his locker.

 "Zombies," He allowed the words to slip out of his mouth as he began to remember the facts about them from training. Their overseers had made sure to stress that they were strong as hell, but happened to be dumber (and slower) as a brick. An entire warehouse full of them couldn't be anything good. He needed something that was far beyond protective, but still enough to allow him to haul ass if he were to get into a tight situation.

 He began to strap on the various pieces of Raider armor before donning his helmet accordingly. He put on his helmet and shield, making sure the latter was pulled just below his chin, yet allowing enough of the decal to peek through. Next was his favorite part:

 The guns.

 He allowed for the cold steel of his PT92 to slip into it's holster before applying his S.T.A.K.E, as well. Next he attached all of his extra equipment, double-checking the amount of flashbangs he had. Next up was the prized M4A1 which he made sure to check the scope of before slipping ammo into his belt. He smiled to himself as if he'd just won a medal, turning around to observe the other's and what they had chosen to carry. There was quite a variety among the group. From the weapons they carried to the way they chose to carry themselves, or some - the tidiness of their areas.