Monika listened to the Male BoS Paladin speak about forging on and killing whatever beast lay ahead of them. There was bloodlust in his voice and although she could not see his face, she reckoned there was a burning passion in his eyes, one fueled by pure hatred, she knew of it all too well. Monika wondered whether he was right in the head, however, charging in to face the monster that Emil had described did not sound like her idea of a fun time. Nor did it sound like anyone else wanted to volunteer to go with him on the suicide mission. 

[colour=ac00e6]"Not ideal by far, but yes we have to go above ground. What was on the other side of the collapse will likely not be the worst the city has to offer, but so long as we play it safe and only engage when we have to… "We [i]will[/i] reach our objective, and we [i]will[/i] make it out of this city alive."[/colour] 

[colour=limegreen]"Fucking finally."[/colour] Monika thought as she moved with the rest of the group into the lobby area. She looked around at the skeletons still sitting on the benches and behind the desks. They would never have known what hit them, She only hoped it was quick for them. It certainly didn't look that way for some of the skeletons down below. She made her way to the row of terminals behind the desk. Wiping away centuries of dust and grime from the screen she looked at the screen. "Password required" it read [colour=limegreen]"Of course, waste of time that was."[/colour] 

[colour=ed1c24]"Mea Culpa. I await orders."[/colour] She had hoped he'd stay quiet for a little while longer. The words brought back... Memories, that she wanted to stay away. Monika smacked the top of the monitor quite audibly in frustration, both at it not working and at someone from the Legion still being alive. A few looks came her way [Colour=limegreen]"Wasn't working, sorry."[/colour] She said in a rather unconvincing tone. To her surprise, the Monitor flashed and went to its main screen. [colour=Limegreen]"An interesting password choice"[/colour] She gave a smirk before skimming through the various entries. Nothing interesting, no juicy 200-year-old employee gossip or workplace drama on the emails. She closed the terminal back down and moved back with the rest of the group to ascend the stairs to the irradiated hellhole they'd be calling home for the foreseeable future.