A new room in the Avalon has been occupied, yet strangely has 2 armed guards outside the door.
[spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]
English
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"I did"
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"Get out...please..." I look at you.
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"I did"
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[b]A man walks towards the room[/b] "what is this?"
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"We're just guarding the room." One answers.
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"Who is inside? I wasn't notified...."
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"If you weren't notified you must not have had the authorization."
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"Nonsnese, FN has high clearance"
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"Must not be high enough."
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"Let me in."
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"Sorry buddy, gotta have the right clearance."
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"Fine, here is my clearance" [b]He pulls his beretta and quickly kills one and then blasts the others head off[/b]
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You see that the locked door has a passcode.
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[b]He rips the panel off and re-wires it to open the door[/b] ((engineer lol))
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Suddenly, the circuit explodes in your face, sending sparks everywhere. (Brainiac, hue)
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Eric strolls up to the two guards with a confident swagger, not even waiting for them to address him before he speaks, "I have permission from Colonel Decssare to speak with the prisoner. Unless you'd like to take it up with that jackass yourselves, I would let me in."
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"Right, just be careful." They open the door.
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"Thanks, will do." He nods to them, and then steps though into the doorway.
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A red haired woman is laying on a bed, bouncing a ball on the floor, to the wall, and back to her hand while what sounds like David Bowie plays in the background.
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Eric tilts his head and listens for a second, before turning his attention to the prisoner. "Bowie; nice choice. More of a jazz fan, personally, but you can never go wrong with the oldies. My names Eric, and for some reason I was ordered to question you... What may I call you?"
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"You want jazz?" I get up and switch it to Blackstar. "There. His last album you know. Nobody even realized what it really meant until he passed."
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Edited by Spyglass: 1/13/2016 3:46:21 AM"Appreciate it, but you didn't answer my question. Look at it this way; if you don't give me your name, then I'll have to make one up for you." Eric taps his feet subtly to the music, wishing for nothing more than to sit down and talk about music. Still, interrogation duty was interrogation duty...
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"Karina."
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"Karina. Nice name. So, since the assholes at CENTCOM didn't tell me a damn thing, mind telling me why you were placed here?" Eric sits down on the floor, brushing some short black hair off of his forehead.
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"I didn't do anything wrong, simple as that." I reply. It doesn't sound like I'm desperate, or that I even care. It seems like I'm telling the truth.