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Despite the woman's suggestion that they come to a collective decision on the direction to start in, the man who had grabbed him before opted to take charge and make their decision for them, starting off by himself. He'd half a mind to let him stay by himself, considering how obnoxious he had been about him taking any sort of initiative.

Clearly the type who thought himself more capable than the rest here. Or else one who just wanted to be in control at all times. Hell, maybe he just thought himself a natural leader, or some kind of hero. In any case, the bigger man was not a fan.

He took a moment to scan the walls of the intersection for any further indicators of where they were or which direction they should be taking, but seeing that there were none to be found, he turned instead toward the woman and attempted to gauge her reaction to the soldier's 'leadership' through her mask. "...Thoughts?" He asked, prompting for her opinion. Mainly just to spite the other, although she was right that it was best they be in some form of agreement on decisions, considering that they had no prior knowledge of one another. And that their very lives could be at risk for the wrong choices.
Sure, interested.
At the feel of someone grabbing his arm, he jerked it away and aside from waving his hand at them to cease, continued to ignore the offender until they began to yell after him. Irritating, he noted. And foolish. And before he could even fire off a retort, the woman was also joining in with a comment which was equally annoying, and the last of the group was not far behind her. "Then keep up." He growled when the others had finally shut up, turning swiftly askance to glare at the lot of them through the visor of his gas mask. It was not all that visible, but it evidenced itself in the tone of his voice, which now that he had said a full sentence was noticeably with a distinct Scottish accent. "An' quit yeer shoutin'."

Skies, the fuss in these folks. He'd not even gone very far, yet they were behaving like it would be the end of him.

Rolling his eyes, the big man turned back the way he'd been going and took another couple of cautious steps. "Just scoutin' ahead." He explained simply, shining his light pointedly around the junction he'd just reached and down each forking path to wordlessly indicate the divergence to the others.
The giant of a man only half listened as his equally reluctant companions exchanged a few brief snatches of conversation, mainly continuing to ignore them as he went about his business of stocking up what he could and making sure that his weapon was serviceable. They didn't seem to have much of value to say as far as he was concerned, anyway. Mainly just asking pointless questions and answering with obvious answers.

Honestly, he was not remotely opposed to dying alone. He would rather not have to put his life in the hands of anyone else, and would have much preferred going it alone, regardless of what was to be thrown at him. However, if the oh-so-mysterious 'warden' was to be believed, it seemed that he would have to work with the others if he wanted any chance at surviving.

And he was determined to survive.

It was not until the woman among them spoke up that he actually turned to regard her silently. She was quite small, yet stood holding the very automatic rifle which he had deliberately passed on. Possibly the only thing that had been left over. Not that it mattered. And she'd had the nerve to say that she was 'ready'.

Scoffing he looked away, mounted his torch in its place on his shotgun, and started off further into the borehole without stopping to wait for the rest of the group.
The first to step free of the pods was the biggest of the four, bursting out of the harness almost before it had even been released. He swayed briefly when he did, and naturally so. After all, he assessed quickly even as he steadied himself, he had just woken from a presumably artificially induced slumber only to have immediately been plummeted into the dark depths. It would have been more strange if his balanced had been perfect coming out of that.

At least the long ride down had given him plenty of time to think about his situation.

As such, he was not about to let it get the better of him. He didn't have time to be feeling disoriented. Sure, he had no idea where he was or why, and barely even had an inkling as to who he was. Rather, all the more reason to keep his wits about him and remain wary of his surroundings. He could not afford to be vulnerable in any way.

Nothing and nobody were to be trusted.

Without so much as pausing, he had just begun to cast his gaze around at the scene and individuals around him when that wretched voice piped up once again, diverting his attention upward to take note of what he should be avoiding before the man stepped aptly aside to do so.

If he flinched at all when the object had landed or opened, he gave no visible sign of it behind the thick gear and gas mask which concealed his features. Instead, once he could plainly see the contents, he crouched down calmly before it and began to check each package as the mysterious 'Warden' rattled off the list. The 'food', if it could be called that, was telling. Disgusting, perhaps even irksome, but it told him what he needed to know, and if they had wanted to kill him with poison or experiment on him with weird chemicals, they wouldn't have gone to the likely expensive effort to drop him down some shady hole when they'd already had him in their clutches.

Probably.

Deciding to accept it for now, albeit with caution, he grabbed an assortment of the supplies and stowed them on his person before moving on to look over the 'other pertinent pieces of equipment', as they had been so vaguely described. Lights, uselessly tiny pocket knives, and an assortment of mainly unidentifiable devices as far as he was concerned, aside from the medical kit. No instructions for anything as far as he could see. Even though they were supposedly important science shit. Maybe one of the others they had sent down was well versed with that stuff, he didn't know. But he would rather leave it to them, anyway. Why should he have to take some stupid samples for those bastards who wouldn't even come own to get it for themselves?

The other stuff he could think about later, for once the second drop had opened his priorities immediately shifted. Weapons. And lots of them. This was a proper arsenal that had been sent down with them, and no meager one at that. Well, not in terms of firepower, anyway. The first thing that he did in approaching the container was to check the provided ammunition, and what he found caused him to click his tongue in disgust. 'Scarce' indeed. Already too scarce for an operation that evidently required such a heavy assortment of guns. Whoever or whatever they were expected to be shooting at, they were not well enough supplied to do so.

Most of the bigger guns looked like they would eat through all of their ammo in no time. Not something which he considered ideal for their limited stock. What he needed was something with shots that would count.

Without hesitating, he skipped over the rapid-fire weapons and took hold of the shotgun. A less attractive weapon, perhaps, but he didn't care about what was attractive. This was a bit more familiar to him in feel (if not quite in form), and it looked like it could do some damage. With a grunt of satisfaction, the man loaded it and slung it onto his back, then did the same with one of each type of pistol and dropped them into the holsters that had so clearly been intended for them. The extra ammo he placed in some of the many pouches on his chest which would hopefully make for the quickest possible reloading if it were needed.

He had a feeling it might be.

With that done, he turned at last to the remaining case and watched as it opened to reveal the unique objects inside. Now this was an instrument that he could get behind. Nearing the latest array without delay, he hefted one of the strange things and turned it over in his hands, then gave it a few swings for good measure. Solid. Versatile. Perfect. Definitely more his speed, though he wasn't opposed to the other weapons, either. This one just felt right in his sturdy hands.

The Warden had almost nothing to say about these, but neither had they said all that much about the others. Or anything else, for that matter. Before he knew it, that robotic words were uttering one last nebulous directive before signing off.

"Great." Muttered the brawny figure in a deep, gravelly voice.

...Where, though?

Mech Technician





By the sound of it, Elliot knew how to get things done. Ferra could respect that on a normal day, but at the moment she downright appreciated it. She was far from meek, yet even so, it seemed hard to get a word in edgewise in this camp. Perhaps she would have to begin to be more forceful -something which she'd never thought she would have to consider ramping up- or else just quicker to the punch than the chatterboxes.

When the paler woman rejoined them, golden-brown eyes shifted to follow the path of the interestingly labeled notebook as its owner put it away. Only for a moment, though. She was mildly curious what it was all about, and why it was so clearly marked, but it was not her business, and she didn't really have any reason to care. Instead, she listened to the corporal's introduction of her and returned her nod with one of her own in both acknowledgement and greeting.

Something about it caught her notice, however.

She was distracted momentarily by the arrival of another woman -this one accompanied by a great big dog- and offered up another nod in response to her request that they not mind her before returning her gaze to consider Grace.
"Been here for years but only recently joined up?" Ferra asked casually, pausing to take another sip before continuing. "You from around here, then?"


@FalloutJack@Smike
MP-6736-OPEN



Possible Targets: @AelitaJezebelle@randomness
Location: Cafeteria [Entrance]


The one who had touched him moved in front of him, but surprisingly nothing more came of it than the sound of a gentle, reassuring voice. Once again, a voice very different from the whispers.

...'Once again'?

Uncertainly, the young man slowly lowered the meager shield of limbs he had created for himself, still hazy eyes staring out in confusion past them into a pair of blue ones. These ones did not feel as familiar as the brown ones from before... However, as his gaze flickered haltingly around, he somehow did feel less as though it -whatever it was- had him. But everything was no less wrong.

The blue eyes took his hand and told him to come with them...

Them? No, it was... a woman, wasn't it? A woman with blue eyes... Why had he thought....? No, what had he thought, again?

...She was telling him to go with her, so surely that was right. Yes, he allowed her to lead him away, just as they always did... they... Yet it felt early, somehow, for that. Didn't it? Wasn't there something that he was supposed to do first? Something... something... The man, the eating man, came into view again, and all at once the awful red came rushing back to him. The blue eyes were leading his body away, down an ever-lengthening tunnel and gradually pulling further and further away from him. Leaving him alone, drawn deeper and deeper into the red.

Spiraling slowly down,
down,
sinking,
sucked down toward the cracks below the surface...

The whispers were getting loud again.


Another touch on his other hand drew him sharply back out, and he might have flinched again had it not been accompanied by the return of the small voice. Well, he gave a much lesser flinch, at least. Looking down, he saw those brown eyes. They matched the blue ones more now, but at least he remembered they were real. They were both real, right? The girl and the woman...

...Weren't they?

He hadn't much noticed what she'd said, but neither could he see the red anymore from the direction he was facing, and that was an improvement. In its place, however, were the two clearest thoughts he could remember having yet.

The first was the realization that for a moment he'd nearly lost what little of himself he had to spare.

This thought swiftly wavered and drifted away, as all other thoughts had up to that point. However, the second and far more unsettling of the two was a lingering one. One which he did not fully understand, yet which filled him with a resurgence of that deep sense of dread. Enough to lead him to staggering unstably as words so clear they hardly seemed like his own cut through the fog of his mind.

'That was close.'
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