[center][h1][b][color=orange]Vincent Ryder[/color][/b][/h1]
[sub]Interactions: [@FunnyGuy] [@Exit] [@PigeonOfAstora][/sub]
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Vincent crouched by the edge of the pit, probably closer than he should be, especially as he leaned forward to get a better look. Down below, his sharp eyes could make out the forms of seven thralls. He had yet to familiarize himself with what their names were, but he could see a few with claws while the rest milled around, dragging swords along the ground. Off to the side, he could also see a hint of the mouth of a cave or a tunnel. As he inspected the pit from where he was, a surprisingly thoughtful expression on his face, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling that had taken root in the back of his mind ever since Renee told the group about it.

He rose to his feet and scratched the back of his head before he said, [color=orange]"I know I'm not exactly the brightest crayon in the toolshed, but something I've learned is to trust my instincts. Because of them, I haven't died, yet. Well, permanently, at least."[/color] He crossed his arms and turned toward his comrades as he added, [color=orange]"I've just got this kinda...hinky feeling, you know? I'm probably overthinking things, which is a weird and pretty uncomfortable feeling, but I thought it was worth mentioning, at least."[/color]

He then gave his trademark (over)confident smirk and added, [color=orange]"Anyway, boss, what's the plan? I'm not any less willing to knock some skulls just 'cause I've got some weird feeling."[/color]
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[center][h1][b][color=lightgreen]Sean Anderson[/color][/b][/h1]
[sub]Interactions: [@khosmik]
Mentions: [@dreamingflowers] [@Theyra] [@Force and Fury][/sub]
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The trapdoor in the telescope room opened as Sean resurfaced once more. He stretched his arms over his head, not for the first time pondering how strange it was that he still felt the need to stretch his artificial arm even after having had it for almost a decade, and rolled his neck. He had been hunched over his workbench for so long performing maintenance on one of his combat arms that his shoulders felt stiff. He still wasn't quite finished, though, the internal damage having been more extensive than he originally expected, so he still had one of his spare arms equipped. While it still had one or two weapons tucked away, he didn't consider it one of his combat models, given that it was on the heavier side.

Sean let out a quiet yawn and stepped out into the hall just in time to see Poppy and Desmond leave what he remembered as being Lysandra's room. He made a note to check in on her later, but for the time being, he felt as if he needed to check in on someone else a bit more. He walked down the hall, his hands in his pockets, as he inadvertently followed Poppy and Desmond toward the medical area, where he found the person he wanted to talk to sitting on a cot. Sean put on his best, friendliest smile as he approached the stranger from behind. He knocked his steel hand against the rail of the privacy curtain to get their attention. [color=lightgreen]"Heya,"[/color] he said, still wearing his easy smile. [color=lightgreen]"You look like you have some questions. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I'm about as qualified to answer those questions as the next guy."[/color]