>>5252882Alright, you sigh as you plop onto the bed next to Mitz, so how much gear do we have, anyways?
“Enough to keep everyone breathing for an hour, give or take.” Shrugs the Rent-A-Cop as she kicks the pile of air cylinders lying on the bedroom floor. “Well, a couple of hours if we take a few an’ swap ‘em out.”
Great plan, <span class="mu-i">genius</span>--how the hell are you supposed to do that <span class="mu-i">underwater</span>, huh?
“Best case scenario: we switch them out when we find <span class="mu-g">ATLANTIS.</span>” Mitz replies, face scrunched up in thought. “... but I guess that’d depend on whether we find an air pocket or not…”
Fingers crossed!
“Yea, gonna need more than that, boss.” The security goon sighs, turning to look at you. “Mind if I squeeze into that <span class="mu-g">SEA CLOAK</span> with ya’ on the way down?”
You respond with a frown–would that even work? It might be okay for <span class="mu-r">LIL’ STANLEY,</span> but-
“Just kidding, boss!” She interrupts with a smile! “Sweet of ya’ to offer, but I probably know my way around a rebreather better than anyone else on this ship. Besides,” Mitz continues as she decides on a wetsuit with crimson accents around the shoulders, “You sink like a rock with that thing on, right? No thanks.”
Rising from the bed, the Rent-A-Cop continues to assemble diving kits on the floor–masks, boots, fins–if you didn’t know better you’d think you’d wandered into a class or something. Or a really weird laundromat…
“Thanks, by the way.” She mutters, earning a raised eyebrow from you. Eh?
“For letting me try out the <span class="mu-g">BACKUUM,</span> ya’ dork.” Mitz giggles as she bleeds one of the air tanks a bit and gives it a whiff. “You know I’m kidding when I mess around with you, though, right?”
You blink. What ‘messing around’ is she talking about now, exactly? The redhead turns to look at you with an interrogating stare. “Y’know… when I act all flustered about you picking other people on the team.” Turning her attention back to the rebreather she’s tinkering with, the Rent-A-Cop shrugs. “Don’t feel bad about your picks, Stan–we’re with ya’ no matter what.”
You scratch the back of your calf with your foot. Like, when you’re picking teams and stuff?
“<span class="mu-i">Duh</span>.” She laughs, “What did <span class="mu-i">YOU</span> think I meant?”
Before you can respond, the tomboy waves you and the question away. “Forget it, boss–anything <span class="mu-i">you</span> wanna talk about? I know you didn’t come down here to hear me rant…”
Well now that she mentions it…
<span class="mu-b">CHOOSE 1:</span>
>WHAT’S HER TAKE ON THE REST OF THE TEAM?>CAN SHE GIVE YOU A RUNDOWN ON SCUBA? JUST IN CASE YOU LOSE YOUR CLOAK, OR WHATEVER!>WHAT’S HER PLAN ONCE ALL THIS STUFF BLOWS OVER?>HOW’S SHE DOING, ANYWAYS?>OKAY SERIOUSLY–IS SHE HITTING ON YOU? >NAH… YOU’LL LEAVE HER TO IT!>WRITE-IN! 