Character(s): Connie, Adobe, Sierra, Odessa, Booker, Sam
Content: Wakeywakey eggs and backey? The base groups greets their new day while something back home greets them in turn.
Setting: The hospital atrium.
Warnings: None, save tomfoolery.
(
The kinks could be worked out of her back later, Connie decided. )
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"....THE CLAYMORES! Is there any way you can tell Hover to warn whoever it is to be careful?! For God's sake, keep them away from the base! I've....God, this is my responsibility. My territory!"
Odessa, who had been dreaming pleasantly of Adobe, Booker, Sierra and their home, had entered a full alert state in about a nano second.
She was scrambling for her hat, her gun and her pack, staggering around the room and seeming rather confused. Sudden wake up calls and potential disaster will do that.
"Just tell them to wait, if y'can! Do something, I'm going to make a run for the base. I know the paths and layouts better than any of you, so I'll run ahead!"
And with that, the woman was off, sprinting out of the room and into the hall, hitting the stairs at a dead run and whipping down them with the intensity of a woman on a mission.
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His own meager supplies gathered, Booker neatened up the area so that it could be used again by themselves or the inhabitants of the hospital itself. He started humming as he finished and stuck his hands in his pockets, checking to see if the others were ready.
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"Huh. Don't reckon the base is on fire, right? Oh, wait... what did the blinky journal say? Is there someone there makin' a mess of things? Time to run, then." Bending at the middle, she offered Miss Sierra a hand, attempting to draw a sense of urgency from both her lady and herself as well. She'd been far too relaxed with the warm, pretty body by her side.
"We ride to the rescue again, eh Madame?"
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