Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20160111005103/@comment-5543592-20160112151515

Lazarus Grimm wrote: "What?!" said the voice sharply, clearly irritated. (Yes, Dragon)

"Just checking if you're still alive." Carter replied. He went to his gun locker and cracked it open. Inside, there was no fantastic array of rifles or pistols.

There was one rifle- a multi-function M4A1 carbine with attachments- and a belt of different pistols. He also had magazines mounted along the locker's interior. He surveyed for a moment before selecting one pistol in particular, a SIG Sauer P226. He slid that into the holster at his hip, and then slid the carbine in it's strap over his shoulder.

The armory was on one of the lower decks. It was a room full of the tall, broad Soviet mechanized armors. It was stocked with vehicles, cases of guns, stockpiles of ammunition and bombs. There were lots of technicians milling about, and likely anyone of them could assist Petra.

"Well, you're going to want to strap in, doctor.  It can get a little bumpy." The Colonel informed him.

Daniel eventually sauntered in, dressed in loose sweatpants a gray, slim-fitted "U.S Navy" t-shirt.

He rubbed at his bleary eyes as he surveyed what Eden was doing.

"Cooking?" He asked, surprised. He sat down at one of the affixed stools his kitchen was granted with. It was a galley kitchen- two sides of it, the sides that housed the utilities, were built into the wall, with a third stretching out to act as a table; which is were Daniel sat,

"Isn't that supposed to be my job?"