Tabula Rasa Roleplayers

The night was quiet, a rarity not often afforded to the man who stood outside the barracks within the Twin Pillars. granted the patrols still scuttled about, and the sound of mortar fire boomed off in the distance. If one looked, they could even see the flashes of gunfire off towards the horizon.

But there was no such action here. Not at this moment. To the soldier standing outside the doors, his eyelids, not to mention the thick gravitron armor covering his body, seemed to grow heavier by the moment. He was waiting, but for what? He did not answer such queries, his mouth already occupied with clamping down upon the yet-to-be-cut cigar within it. Cigars are for celebrating, he thought as half his mouth curved into a smirk.

He was a tall man, likely muscular beneath his armor. One arm pinned his helmet to his side, a noticable dent just above the face plate, as the other reached glanced to his forearm and the digital clock upon it. He sighed heavily.

"God damnit. I'm leaving in five minutes if she doesn't get out here by then."

He had much to tell, and he wasn't sure how long he'd have to tell it. Anxiously, he chewed on the end of the cigar and waited.

“Yo asshole get your shit off my cot.”

A southern tinged voice found its way through a barrier of lucid sleep. Following the voice closely were a string of metal clanks and arguing. Oh heck no, who the he-, pale eyes snapped open at the disturbance, the memories of slumber instantly fading. The woman bearing the eyes had begun to formulate the hypothesis that a good rest was a novelty that existed only back on Earth, or what was left of it.

Slowly, the female form peeled herself upward from an uncomfortable cot. A yawn, she glanced down at a watch. Shit, she thought; the message she’d received early jogging her memory. She was late.

Equipment found itself being assembled in a practiced rush, high quality bio grade armor piecing over bed clothes. She pulled weapon after weapon from her footlocker, all of them somehow managing to find a place upon a petite form now bulking unproportionally due to the protective shell. Grabbing the final article, a helmet, she tucked it under her right arm.

“He’s going to be so pissed, I can bet you that,” the woman mumbled, scurrying from the barracks. As soon as the target came into view, the pace slowed. People rushed back and forth around her, Twin Pillers always a place of action. However, she made herself appear as if she had no purpose or care.

“Need a light?” she said in a mock greeting, taking a spot next to the man holding up the wall.

The man's eyes coldly followed her as she approached, a scowl knitting his brows. In response to the greeting, his free hand quickly removed the cigar from his mouth in order to respond in a sharp tone.

"If it takes you as long to light it as it would for you to get here, I'd probably have given up smoking."

He muttered under his breath, perhaps a string of insults indecipherable to all but himself. After taking a quick look around to see who might be observing the pair, and finding no suspicious activity, he gestured the woman towards the back of the hospital, taking swift, determined steps to get there. Goddamn this armor is heavy.

Upon reaching the destination, the man replaces the well-chewed cigar back into his mouth, fishing around his armor for something before withdrawing a map.

"Now look. This is pretty sensitive information what I'm about to share, you better keep your mouth shut about it, or we could land in some very big trouble. You got me?"

A snort greeted the response to her offer; he was always a jokester.

Free hand went to her eyes, fingers gently rubbing away drowsy remnants of her slumber. The eyes themselves appeared most unlike any seen. The irises without a trace of pigment, the only pinkish hue gathered from blood vessels running through the inter-workings of the orbs. Anyone with the slightest education in such abnormalities could instantly tie together the porcelain skin and silky white locks.

A single eyebrow perks at the man’s gesture, curiosity drawing her own steps to follow him. As they moved she observed the most familiar hospital, flashbacks hitting her of the numerous times she’d found herself housing her after a tough battle.

“This is pretty sensitive information..”

Attention that had formerly been lax found itself elevated and locked onto the black skinned man. The subject of this meeting had never been established, and with this foreshadow, she find herself completely struck with intrigue.

Clearing her throat, she felt it was right to go about with feigned resistant and caution, “Trouble? What’re you getting me into Teté? I don’t want any trouble.” Despite such a response, pale eyes kept dropping towards the mysterious map.

"Nothing we can't handle together."

Brushing aside any remaining questions, he placed the map flat against the side of the hospital, revealing it to be a crudely drawn version of the Concordian Divide.

With a solemn glance over towards the woman, he leaned forwards to push his cigar against it, due east of Foreas Base. Without making sure she saw, he quickly folded it back up, stuffing it within the confines of his pocket once more.

"That's where we're headed. Now let's move out, I don't want to stay in one spot for too long. This -was- strictly need-to-know intelligence, and I really didn't need to know it. Gather your shit up, meet me near the Divide. Give me a good head start before you start coming along, got it?"

He didn't wait for recognition of the order. Turning on his heel, he began to make his way out of the Twin Pillars outpost.

A swirl of confusion inhabited the albino head, such random information being thrown upon her. What the frigg is he talking about? she kept wondering. None of it made sense to her. They’ve completed all their tasks in the Divide awhile ago, why would he want to go back there?

Pink orbs followed the armored form as it left, leaving her with sustained bafflement. There seemed no option other than to follow his instructions. She couldn’t help thinking, what if this really was some massive pit of never ending trouble? It was likely if her overlooking officer noticed her gone for too long she’d get punished. This whole mess was something she did not need.

Why did I ever come to this ‘meeting’.. With a brief mental self-hate, the woman pealed herself from the wall, taking practiced strides out of the hospital. Once she’d collected the remaining items from her foot locker, she followed his instructions to the bullet, moving out toward the Divide.

The man rested his head back against rocky cliffs as he waited for the specialist to arrive. The cigar was finally lit, as much to calm his nerves as to enjoy it. Already it was halfway finished, the man's deep, determined breaths finishing it off quicker than he would have liked.

Oh well, could be the last one you ever have. Hell who knows, you might not even get a chance to fin-

His thoughts were interrupted as he saw a familiar form get closer, causing him to nod slightly in appreciation. Watching her in silence as she approached, he gestured her to follow him as they headed for the divide. After reaching up to remove the cigar from his mouth, not wishing for it to dampen his voice, he spoke in a soft voice while they walked.

"You ever wonder how it is that you always find yourself in the hospital after you die? Even when it's miles and miles away from the location of your death?"