0004: NEW ARRIVAL BRIEFING

[crux_npcs]

Who: New Arrivals, Graham Baker
Where: Briefing Room
When: Late afternoon, Februaro 30th
Warnings: None

When awakening, you'll find the area you're in to be very busy. The people in the medical ward are polite and understanding, but firmly refuse to answer questions until the briefing. The same goes for the robots in the hangars. Either given hospital outfits resembling very comfortable pajamas, drone bodies, or their own bodies, they are escorted by polite, unyielding people in red and black uniforms to the briefing room.

The Briefing room is large. Not enough to accommodate a Cybertronian, but spacious enough for several dozen people. The chairs are high-backed and well-cushioned, more like comforting eggs floating a foot or so off the ground than anything else. A half completed, but still functional, holographic display is settled into the floor, showing a slowly rotating pyramid.

A few Security personnel, dressed in their red and black uniforms, stand at ease in the rooms in strategic areas. They seem fairly relaxed. One man stands at the head. Graham Baker, a middle-aged man, showing the first signs of balding and wearing a rumpled business suit perhaps a size too large, nervously clasps his hands together and smiles.

[Questions to the NPCs will go in the briefing thread. The rest of the post is there for people to mill about and do whatever with. The mods will not be doing hangar/medical awakenings unless it's specifically asked for.]

Comments

[totallytrustworthy]

"Fine." It's neither pleasant nor supplicating, isn't intended to be if only because-- good as she is at playing bit parts-- her temper's far from willing to die out. She misses, against reason, the buffer that was Harry Flynn taking the brunt of Lazarevic's ire.

"Anything else I need to know or are you planning on spending the rest of this afternoon staring me down?"

[havethewill]

"I will be spending my afternoon getting my bearings. You," Lazarevic's other hand has moved from his side, snaking between them to free the knife from its sheath on his chest and tucking its tip up under her chin before she's a chance to recognize the impending threat. "I imagine you will be seeking medical attention."

He pushes the blade from the tip of her chin down the line of her jaw, looping back behind her ear and grazing her earlobe in the process. There isn't a lot of pressure, and the damage is superficial. But oh, she bleeds.

[totallytrustworthy]

"--shit--" The sting doesn't hit till after her skin registers wet heat running down towards the angled edge of her collarbone, but she hisses all the same, recently freed hand clamping down across that expanding crimson line. It isn't possible to shrink back any farther than what little space she's already been afforded; Chloe attempts it anyway, hard glare still fixed firmly in his direction. "Was that really necessary?"

[havethewill]

"Yes. And it will be again each and every time you step a toe out of line." Despite the warning, he doubts the lesson will last. This woman is incorrigible.

He flips the knife over in his hand and wipes the blade on his sleeve before putting it away. And then he straightens and stands back from the wall, relaxing the tension between them like a muscle.

“I will have resources. Weapons first, and barring that, raw materials to construct them. Locate a supplier. I require funds or I require items of value for barter. I need the names of men who will work.” Lazarevic puts his back to her as he moves to lift his gun off the floor.

“You have four hours to prepare your first report.”