"Nah man! I'm tellin' you! I saw it with my own eyes! The thing
just collapsed in on itself! Then is stood back up and was all,
like, angular and ****! It's claws were wicked dude! It tore itself
open and killed my boys with it's guts! You gotta believe me!
Please!"
You're all sitting at a table, one chair empty. You glance around
at each other, unsure of what to do. Everybody is in military
uniforms, urban camouflage style. Nobody's said a word yet, the
clock ticking on the wall too loud for the room. One person speaks
up, asking names.
May was probably the least professional out of everyone there. Her
military jacket wasn’t buttoned up all the way, revealing her white
undershirt. Her pants were rolled up to her calf, very lazily done
as well. She had her legs propped up on the table in front of her
and she was leaning back in her chair. She ignored the one who
spoke up and continued to fake her little nap.
Cerise was the opposite of May. She looked like a highly trained
CIA agent. Her auburn hair spilled over her shoulders in a braid.
She has a book in her hand. Upon further inspection, the book title
is in another language. She looks tense as her eyes scan the pages,
reading every word at top speed.
The door opened, and an extremely tall man walked in, sitting down
at the empty chair. His eyes landed on May, narrowing. Slamming a
hand down on the table next to her, he shouted, "Wake up Private!"
Sitting back down, he eyed all of them, his hands resting on the
table in front of him. "Now, I need your names and skill
immediately, as well as what you specialize in weapon wise."
"Cerise Veturius." she says, looking at Kris with an interesting
look in her eyes. "Your resident sneak thief." she adds. "I
wouldn't say I specialize in anything, but I mean, I can hit a
target with one of these." she flicks her wrists and long silver
bladed knives slide from her sleeves. The types look as if they
were burning. "I can fight with any weapon you can put in front of
me but I prefer these."
One of Kris' hands dropped below the table, coming back up with a
few velcro nametags. He tossed one across the table to Cerise.
VETURIUS is all it read, no rank anywhere. His hands rested
on those that remained, fingers tapping on the table.
“Come on man, I was tryin to get a nap in!” She have a small grin
before yawning and sitting upright in her seat. She honestly didn’t
care about this whole ordeal, she was only in it to entertain
herself. “And why should I tell you that? Why not demonstrate it
out on the field, Captain?” She adverted her gaze over to
him
Kris glared at her. "Because out in the field, you won't get a
chance. If you try and demonstrate your hand to hand combat out
there, you'll be killed by a set of two ton lungs! Understand?
These damn things are dangerous, and they will not hesitate to kill
you. You want a little description of them? Or maybe their bloated
dogs that swallow you whole?" His hands were still resting calmly
in front of him. "I need to know what you can do, and I need to
know NOW."
Cerise frowned at the lack of rank but said nothing. She knows when
to respect authority. Her mother had taught her that. She puts the
name tag on and watches Kris. The burning metal tip burns her skin
but she makes no noticeable movement. She scowls at May, glaring at
her.
“Yeah yeah, whatever...” She mumbled with a small chuckle as she
rested her elbow on the table, then propped her head in her palm.
“May Longfield...” she grumbled, her fingers tapping the table as
boredom slowly filled her expression. “Hmm... I could fill any role
other than the boring ones, like spying and crap... An offensive
position would be nice...” she lifted her eyes from the table to
look around the room. “I specialize in guns and bows, things like
that. I wouldn’t recommend handing me a knife unless you want to be
at the other end of it...”
Kris tossed a nametag that said LONGFIELD at her, then said,
"Anything eh? How about cannon fodder?" Turning to the next person,
he waited for what they would say. His fingers tapped slowly over
the two remaining nametags.
When it came to professionalism, if May and Cerise were considered
polar opposites, then Leia landed somewhere in the middle. She wore
the usual uniform given to the soldiers here- jacket and all- and
her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose bun. Elbows were propped
on the table, bandaged hands holding her head up. Her stern gaze
glanced towards the others, but not at them, seeming deep in
thought.
At least until a hand was slammed right on the table.
Well that definitely woke her up. She kept the others names in her
mind, and watched the argument between May and Kris in silence. At
least until she heard the word 'cannon fodder'. The jerk probably
meant her. "I'm Leia Strickland. I specialize in hand-to-hand and
close-up battles." She said simply.
"As for weapons, I prefer brass knuckles or pistols.. revolvers...
anything that lets me get close to the target really." Leia added
with a slight shrug. She wasn't the best shot far away, though she
definitely wasn't mentioning that in front of this guy...
Kris tossed a nametag that said STRICKLAND to her, then
said, "We might have to set you up with something a little more
long ranged, but at least you'll be able to fight any aggressive
civs." He picked up the last nametag on the table and turned to the
final person at the table, waiting. There were still a few nametags
under the table in a pocket, but he didn't pull them yet. There
were still a few chairs open too.
“Cannon fodder, huh... Fine by me...” she grumbled, not exactly
liking the role but at least it wasn’t all that boring. Everyone
here seemed like people she wouldn’t get along with, so it was
probably best for her to do that.
Drea stumbled into the room, late. Once she saw that everyone was
already there, she picked herself up, trying to make a good first
impression. "Sorry I'm late, sir!" She spoke like a trained
soldier, though she felt like almost the least professional there.
She raised her hand in a salute, before taking a seat next to
someone talking about 'Cannon fodders'. She couldn't believe she
had been late - this was probably the most important mission of her
life, and she had missed the start of it. Her face was slightly red
as she thought about this.
“Well look who’s here...” May grumbled, already having her legs
propped back up on the table and her arms crossed. She only made a
small effort to slightly move her head, only catching a glimpse of
the newcomer before they sat down.
Kris turned and watched the newcomer enter. "Only by a few
minutes.." He looked her in the eyes. "Name and skills, then you'll
receive your tag." His second hand reached under the table again,
closing around the remaining velcro nametags.
"Drea Gudloom, Assassinations. I am also useful in combat, though,
sir." She spoke quickly, as if she were nervous. Her face was still
red, her breaths still coming quickly. She had ran here from her
room, not pausing to do everything she would normally do, which was
probably why her hair was such a mess. She also didn't like eye
contact - she found it awkward, and scary, almost as if the person
looking at her was stealing her soul. She kept her eyes averted,
slowing her heart and breaths.
Kris nodded. "Ranged or melee?" He slid a nametag towards her:
GUDLOOM. "If you're a close up, is recommend you get
yourself trained with a rifle." He brought his hands back in front
of him, looking over the soldiers once again.
"Well, I'd prefer to do melee, but it's not that useful in the
field.. I can fire a gun with some accuracy, though, sir.
Preferably a Sniper." She thought for a second, before opening the
file, more curious than anything. Her curiosity often made her
ignorant, though, which was something she needed to work on.