"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: One of Three
Namira
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Null sheen.
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Rosa sat there on the bed for a while just thinking to herself, trying to organise her jumbled thoughts into some semblance of order and not meeting with much success. This was too insane to reconcile so easily, and Rosa didn't make a lot of headway. But at the least, it was a little less time on her feet and some more time where she didn't have to worry about looking for killers behind every tree. Security did a lot for a girl's nerves.

Well, up until there was an almighty goddamn crash in the other room and Rosa sprang up from the bed, heart hammering. The sound had been slightly muffled (it was followed by the sound of somebody swearing as she got to her feet), so it could only have come from the little office she'd looked into earlier.

Motherfucker! How the hell'd they get in?!

Rosa didn't have time to dwell on what she'd overlooked though, somebody had broken inside, which wasn't exactly a good sign. Someone more innocent might have knocked on the door or called out, this person had deliberately broken in, which meant they hadn't been looking to attract attention.

...Lucky for her they'd somehow fucked up, then.

Rosa didn't waste a second of time. Whatever mishap the intruder had suffered wasn't liable to delay them for long, and Rosa simply couldn't afford to wait. She couldn't get out quickly enough, so that meant one simple thing: time to hide. Bursting from the bedroom, Rosa's eyes roved around desperately before settling on the living area. It wasn't the best of places, but it was about the only option.

Because no way in FUCK was she hiding under the bed.

She sprinted over to that area, vaulted the couch, and bunkered her ass down directly behind it, nerves jangling. This was a stupid plan. This was a moronic goddamn idea. Hiding? What the fuck.

But hey, what else could she do, talk them to death?

Death dealing devices walkie talkies weren't.
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One of Three · The Ranger Station