Log, ongoing - GROUP THREE

[major_west]

Who: Major West, Dr. Horrible, Ralph Cifaretto, Testament; OPEN TO NPCs
When: 1st day of Port
Where: LV-426, Colony, on the way to the reactor

Comments

[my_freeze_ray]

Dr Horrible was actually feeling more reassured now they were in a smaller group, the mission was unnerving enough as it was without having to wonder how many of the people around you were waiting for a good change to stab you in the back. Or in this case, open fire and make it look like an accident. This group was better, he didn't really know Ralph, but he trusted Testament not to actively want him dead, and West to actively want him alive, and on the barge all things considered, that was a fairly good ratio of murderous to non murderous people in a four man team.

He held his weapon loosely in his hands, scanning his eyes across the corridor intently as they advanced. The emptiness of the place was what bothered him most, there'd been 158 people on here to start with, so on the assumption that they weren't all huddled together in the reactor, where were the others? If something had gone wrong, as it seemed obviously something had, macabre though it was, where were the bodies

[swiss_gear]

Testament said nothing as his group went to work. Billy and West seemed to have a rapport in which he had no interest in taking part. Instead, he chose to silently stalk behind the group and take in the sights for himself. If need be, he could easily find his way into combat, but as it was, the Gear was in no rush.

He ran a hand along another hole, taking into account the feel of it beneath his fingers. Acidic, certainly, but that wasn't anything they didn't already know. Billy's comment about spraying made Testament wonder if there wasn't a bioweapon, not unlike himself, roaming about and slaughtering humans.

Well, he wouldn't suggest it, but it was a possibility, wasn't it?

[fathersbludgeon]

Ralph was beginning to see things. Not glaring mirages, nor anything grandiose or particularly note worthy - more as in: both his paranoia and sleep deprivation were leaving his senses in free fall.

He was giving one too many double takes for comfort.

Which is why the hand threaded gingerly through the gaps of his armor was busy thumbing a nice, ready-cut packet of some of that good ol' magic talcum powder. Plenty of caffeine, alcohol, cocaine and a quick, flirting dance with his Catholicism had successfully kept the bad dreams at bay. Unfortunately, it meant that both his body and mind were slightly fucked over. If the others were suffering from anxiety, he was too. Only doubly so.

...Though he was still comfortably and obnoxiously overconfident in himself; he just had some serious doubts about those he was walking with.

West, he now remembered, abandoned him in the last port. Dr. Horrible looked and sounded like a prat - because who calls themselves that? Seriously. What the fuck was he overcompensating for? And 'Testament

[major_west]

"So then the question becomes: to what end?" West remarked, flashing a light on the holes Billy was commenting on. "What would that accomplish?" It hadn't yet occurred to him that the source of the acid could've been from a living creature-- that was so far out of the realm of possibility to him that the thought didn't even cross his mind in jest.

He turned to the other two, wondering if they had any ideas, but before he could say anything, Kaylee's voice came through the comlink. The colonists had clustered around the fusion reactor, leaving them with the option of putting away all firearms or... blowing themselves up.

"Fantastic," West replied dryly. "Got it. Over." Then he looked to the others-- particularly Ralph. "You heard her. No firearms. Put them away. Those of you who've brought flamethrowers, ready them." As he said that, he slung his own rifle back and began fiddling with the flamethrower to ready it for use