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Ash Holloway Location: Administration (A, exterior) -> Mechanics (K)Skills: N/A |
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The smile at the corner of Thana's lips was mirrored by Ash. Rather boyishly, he began to walk backwards a step or two, loathe to break eye contact. He was acting a little immaturely, granted. The joy at being reunited with her again, especially after beginning to mourn for her death, wasn't going away anytime soon. Though it was tempered by his sense of professional ethic, which was why he didn't sweep her up in a spinning embrace right then and there, in front of God and anybody else who cared to watch. "Yes ma'am," he said respectfully, and with that little smile remaining. Before he committed to the full turnaround in preparation for the hauling of his posterior to his designated location, he ended with a quick information dump. "I've uh, got voluntary therapy at 1800." He wanted to get off on the right foot with CMB, for everyone's sake, including Thana's and his own. It was about community, and finding a productive place in it. "Bye for now. I'll report to the evening meal soon as I'm done." If it didn't go past time for the meal, anyway. It wouldn't be the first supper he'd skipped in his life.
It felt a little strange to take orders and place his duties around someone else's timeline. In many ways, he hadn't been in this kind of a position since advanced training at Fort Leonard Wood. As a green 2nd Lieutenant, he was still an officer, but the lowest ranking person present. He might have had all the training necessary to lead, but it was his duty to follow. Just as it was now. So in the usual form of a man whose time was not purely his own, Ash turned on his heels and made for Mechanics/Fabrication at a jog. It wasn't but a short distance away; he could clearly see it from the bus as they pulled in, so precious little time was spent moving from Point A to Point B.
Entering Mechanics, Ash gave a cursory look around. Unsure exactly who was present or who the highest ranking person was at that moment, he settled with the old soldier's gambit of announcing his presence to the room, "Holloway, reporting in!" before the search for someone specific began. He mentally readied for more cleaning on his part, likely the women's restroom in all of its fetid glory. He'd done worse. Perhaps he might even have time for a shower before he spoke to his assigned head shrinker. Psychological evaluation wasn't a new thing for him, it being standard in the Army that used to be. First things first - work.
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Thalia Carmichael Location: Administration (A) Skills: N/A |
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There was something about Rolodex that Thalia didn't like very much, but just couldn't place. It wasn't the way the seemed to act around men so much as an underlying method about her that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was something a little too familiar, like the distinct urban-ness of the lady that didn't seem to wear away after the world regurgitated itself upon the living. Like she herself was, at first. Or the cloying way she had. It was difficult to say. Then again, the thing that was invoking her ire right that second was the condescending, impatient way in which the tapped her fingernails on the door until she went through. Thalia found herself swallowing back a low growl before it could reach the world outside of her head and stepped through, in route to Gunny's office. Demonstrating annoyance would get her nowhere. It was best to pay the lady no mind. Besides, she seemed to have found a niche here, and Thalia could understand that even if she didn't want to be friends. Survival didn't always have to mean bushcraft.
Then again, there were a lot of people that she didn't like. And a lot of people that she was pretty sure weren't fans of hers, either. To her philosophy, all of that was window dressing, anyway. She had some more time to clock in before she could get to dinner, and she really wanted to get to dinner. She might get sick of seafood after a while, but today was not that day. But the gateway was Gunny. Striding up to his office, Thalia tapped her prosthetic on the older man's door three times, announcing her presence with the sounds of metallic percussion. "It's An- Thalia. Back from the service." While she was never military in any classical sense, she was part of a private security corporation. In neither world of private security nor corporate America did one simply walk into the rooms of someone higher on the food chain than yourself, not unless special circumstances were at play that were obviously not, here. Besides, ultimately she wanted things from these people. Strategically, playing it safe was better for now. "I'm checking in."
The amputated, biracial seraphim took a lingering look behind her, back to the front of the building. As much as Rolodex wanted her to go away, Thalia figured that it was very probable that she wanted Alexander to stick around. Maybe she'd have to step back out to provide some cover. At least until they were done with their shift. His business was his business, after all.