[color=silver][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/6IsZTYq.png[/img][/center] [right][hr][color=white][b][b]Smith's Rest | Orientation Room[/b][/b][/color] January 16th, 2677[hr][/right] [indent][indent][indent]There was a frozen silence in the air when the electronic commands of the new leader distorted their way through the ceiling speakers. A digital reverberation indicating there was most likely a wiring problem within this one particular room; an estimation which would eventually reveal how some moisture had crept its way through the walls and iced over an electrical terminal — if such a thing could ever be proven. The exact location of such a minor breach would be anyone's guess, but the irritation it caused every time an announcement was made only last a mere minute. It was to be expected given the state that New Anchorage had been left in. Understaffed, underfunded; [i]Under Continual Construction[/i] should have just been printed onto a sign and placed permanently on the front door for the world to see. The current crew was trying their hardest to make a difference to the place but every step taken forward only revealed more work that had to be done. If the word really got out about the real state of the base the major corporations would never even have a second thought in showing interest in the newly growing operation. However the game had changed wHen the decision was made to obtain a new set of recruits. [color=ffd1dc]"Duncan!"[/color] A bellowing voice overshadowed the volume of the busted speaker as the doors to the orientation room retracted open with a hydraulic hiss, the cooked smell of coffee beans wafting out as an indication of where the lone male had been apparently hiding. He had been caught, right in the middle of the act, sneaking another cup, midway through pouring of all things. The sudden summons of his name cause his body to clench up, splashing some of the contents onto his already soiled shirt. He groaned, not for the fact that his adopted daughter was the one who caused this travesty, but knowing how half of a good brew was on his clothing rather than in his belly. [color=MEDIUMAQUAMARINE]"What's up short stuff?"[/color] Duncan replied disoriented and distracted with the task of now trying to find a napkin from within the cupboards, one which would hopefully soak up some of this unfortunate spill. [color=ffd1dc]"What does Graham mean we gotta look busy? That dude hasn't allowed me to do anything and he goes on with stupid stuff like [I]'You're grounded until further notice'[/I]. Like, I'm not twelve, but his double standards are ridiculous…"[/color] Duncan glanced at Madison to see her best childish impression of some smug politician; complete with a voice and pose to suit. [color=MEDIUMAQUAMARINE]"It's all good Mads, I wouldn't worry about it. He's just trying to make a first impression for the newcomers... but you are the only one who busted their NC to a point where you had to be carried back. So of course he's gonna be hard on you."[/color] [color=ffd1dc]"But — that's not my fault!"[/color] [color=MEDIUMAQUAMARINE]"Mhmm… and this new coffee stain here isn't my fault either but I'm the one cleaning it up."[/color] He dabbed his shirt, noticing the stalemate expression on her face as it screwed up with complete displeasure, an expression of knowing she couldn't win. There was no point arguing with him now and Duncan knew she would eventually come around, given some time. [color=MEDIUMAQUAMARINE]"C'mon,"[/color] he chirped as he walked by, running his hands through her long hair to mess with her mini tantrum. [color=MEDIUMAQUAMARINE]"Don't you wanna see who's arriving?"[/color] It was Duncan's way of telling her what she should be doing without ever actually instructing her with what he wanted from her. Reluctantly, she agreed, and followed him out into the hallway.[/indent][/indent][/indent] [/color] [color=silver][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/OF2Xh4b.png[/img][/center] [right][hr][color=white][b][b]In Transit | Old Harbor-Smith's Rest Tramway[/b][/b][/color] January 16th, 2677[hr][/right] [indent][indent][indent] The tram ride into Smith's Rest was an absolute marvel to behold; the finest of zero-point-five star travel for what appeared to be a bunch of shit-kickers looking for a lucky break. A literal zero expenses spared experience complete with the fresh fragrant aromatherapy of regurgitated vomit and a rattle that was surely rusty metal grinding together within the walls. If this was any indication to what Tahlia would be walking into, she knew that it would turn into one hell of an excursion trip. She could see the snow through the grime covered window, feel the cold creeping in through the thin glass, and reluctantly pulled her cold body out of her chair for a good old stretch. Even that little moment of feeling the blood rush through the body couldn't be enjoyed fully with the abrupt interruption of noisy rock music blaring out for no more than an eternity. [color=8f735b]"Ah, for fucks sake!"[/color] Stopping mid way through standing up to cuss at yet another part of this trip which had tested Tahlia's patience. [color=8f735b]"You know what, fuck ya."[/color] The irritated woman waved her hands dismissively at the unfolding events before an unconscious reaction to reach into her jacket's inner pocket and extract out a scrappy pack of cigarettes. If she couldn't have her nose or her hearing she could at least enjoy the taste of tobacco, and it was now her time to subtly piss off the other passengers. [color=8f735b]"Ya got fucken Chucky Chunder here stinking up the joint, and I have to hear that shit?"[/color] The cigarette was being lit as she spoke, choosing to disengage from the group and keep to herself as she stepped over towards the filthy window for a change in view. The former Red Star leader planted her forearm on the dirt smeared glass, resting her forehead on that same forearm and stared out vacantly into the winter white. She could see they were close to their final destination, with civilisation gradually littering the landscape at a growing pace.[/indent][/indent][/indent] [/color]