“I do.” Richard raises his hand
“Would be moronic to carry one and not know how to use it”
“You’d think, but we have a whining child amidst us. Unless he’s a distraction, that is” he points at kit
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“Actual combat, not so much, but i don’t think it will be easy for someone to fight if their brain is splattered across the walls, so i’ll take my chances”
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The relief on courages face when its not him.
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“Whining children are great distractions!” Bill replied. “Nobody hurts a whining child (at least, not intentionally), and they’re quite loud and easily directed.”
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“He is…” I rub my sinuses “…Constantly in a state of high fermentation.”
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Mira can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter at this line.
Voice lets the players finish their discussion
“Guessing by the fact you all have simmered down, there are no remaining questions”
They then lead them all into the central command room…
It Is Requested The Players Cease Posting
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The central command room looks straight out of the movie Wargames, several terminals in a semi circle focused around a large screen. The whirr of analogue machinery is a constant noise. Why in god’s name must a computer be the size of a desk in the year of our lord 20XX.
In total there are 20 desks, yet there are eight with filled wine glasses, they seem to be calling the players to sit there, and yet there is no sign of the person whom brought these poor lost souls together
The Players May Now Post
Bill strolled towards one of the desks, then flopped into a seat. He sniffed the wine glass.
The wine was a fine red wine, even as a used pinata salesman he could tell this was a top shelf vintage that was prepared for them
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Bill smiled, then leaned back in his chair as he sipped his glass. He rested his feet on the desk.
Voice speaks up briefly
“It is requested you refrain from drinking the wine at this time, tempting as it may be given it’s quality”
Bill pouted, but reluctantly set it down on the desk. “If you insist…” he sighed.
I look at ‘Voice’, then peering down to a seperate seat.
Maria Andersson sits down at a wine-located desk.
It is all thoroughly unimpressive, yet I shall refrain from visibly showing my disappointment.
Mira sat down at one of the desks too, wondering why Voice didn’t want them drinking the wine yet. She supposed she’d have her answer soon enough though.
Richard settles down in a seat a bit farther away, smelling the liquid then recoiling a bit in disgust
“Eugh. I don’t like wine, anyone want extra?”
Kit yawned as he burst his way into the command center, sliding into whichever seat had the best lighting and leaning back on his chair, feet quickly kicked up onto the desk. He grimaced at Voice’a words, groaning like a petulant child.
"What’s the point of wine if we can’t drink ittt? Some sorta symbolic thing? It’s stupid."
Kit huffed and flipped his hair, placing his hands behind his head.
“My guess is that it’s some sort of test to see how well we can listen to orders.”
“I would, if we were allowed to have it,” Bill stared forlornly at his glass. “Why must I be tempted so…”
Maria locks her fingers into another on the desk.
“Must we go through this monotonous checklist of bothersome tasks to accomplish?” I wonder.