Day Six - Frontline ...isn't that a flea medication?

[ashes_like_sand]

Who: Chase, open to frontliners
Where: The beach The grassy knoll In front of Town Hall
When: Late afternoonish
Qualifications: ...who's been effing with my headers?
Rating: R for language. It's Chase. C'mon.

Status: Closed, completed
Summary: Chase, waiting on the lawn of the town hall, is eventually approached by Malcolm, Charlie, and Cameron.

Comments

[i_call_9mm]

Discussing tactics was an advantageous, and Cameron marched herself to the town hall at the appointed time. She spied a familiar face there and wondered who else had been assigned a position on the front lines since there seemed to be no one else around yet.

"Good afternoon," she said stoically, since that seemed to be the fashion in which people greeted each other.

[ashes_like_sand]

"Hey," he greeted her casually before he pushed away from the tree.

The first thing he wanted to find out was the penetrability of his shield, though he reasoned that shooting guns near the town hall wasn't a fantastic idea.

But then, foresight wasn't exactly his area of expertise. "Do you have a weapon on you?" he asked as he approached her, glancing toward a blonde girl walking slowly toward them. He wondered if she was a frontliner, or just a roamer.

[i_call_9mm]

"I am the weapon," Cameron replied, face blank. She'd reasoned they'd need to know that if she was going to fight with them. "I am capable of handling a firearm if I need to."

Mal strode up slowly behind Cameron, coming from the direction of the dorms.

"I've got a weapon," he volunteered, patting his revolver for emphasis, "There some shootin' as needs t'be done? I figured we'd be savin' that for the reavers. Infightin' ain't somethin' as comes highly recommended in my parts."

He hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt, standing casually off to the side of the strangely stiff girl he'd come up behind.

[ashes_like_sand]

Chase glanced to Mal, his lips thinning into a neutral line. He bristled internally, though he wasn't sure what, exactly, was rubbing him the wrong way. The accent, or maybe the assumptions being made about what he wanted a weapon for.

Or maybe it was a feeling of authority he got off him. Chase didn't want to be leading, but fucked if he'd take it lightly if someone else tried to. "Who're you?" he asked of Mal. He'd get around to Cameron's weapon in a moment.

Charlie hesitated on the edge of the shade the oak cast. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to get into the middle of what looked like it was about to be a fight, but ... they had wanted to have a meeting. She studied the three of them curiously before shoving her hands deep into her pockets.

She'd wait this bit out and see where it went.