Winter Team - The Beginning [Open]

Connor had been lounging about the Rec Room in his ballistic armor, minus the helmet. He hummed to himself, watching the simulation on screen and letting out a low whistle as the Spartan knocked the marine off the mongoose and proceeded to drive the flag back to base. He started a round of clapping which was picked up by the others in the room who had betted on the Spartans. A few items changed hands, and soon everyone in the rec room had settled down and moved on to other things, such as arm wrestling.

"Fuckin' Spartans man..." A Marine nearby muttered.

"They won't have it so easy against ODST's." Connor chuckled, punching the marine on the shoulder. The man grinned back, giving him a thumbs up. "Oorah Helljumper."

Connor threw himself off the couch and onto his feet, giving the marine a slight wave. "I'm going to congratulate the Spartans. Thank 'em for the entertainment, yeah?" He grinned at the marine and then walked out. He was a new addition to the ship, brought in at the request of Bravo Teams leader for the elite ODST squad. However, he was not new to the ODST's, and wore his ballistic armor like a black badge of honor. He'd eventually round a corner in-front of the Spartans and would stop, shooting off a salute, brown eyes focusing in-front of him.

"Sirs. Nicely done in the Simulations today, the fellas and I wanted to thank you for the entertaining match."

Erin walked along with Lucas, when the ODST popped in.

"Ma'am, actually."

She was quite impressed with Lucas' show in the simulation, she could already tell Winter Team would be a success.

Her expression went sour for a moment, "Bravo?" She knew quite well what Bravo Team is, and she charged past the ODST, almost knocking him over.

"Uh, Erin? Calm your horses, what's going on?" Asphyx chimed in, he had no power to stop her, of course, but he'd at least like to know what was going on.
She then stopped, "Mike, Debby, locate Captain John Keplar." Debby responded with his location, the rec room.

Erin stopped outside of the room, and saw Keplar in the window, her heart was racing. She walked in.

Lucas looked towards the ODST and shrugged his shoulders. Vulkan stood up and twirled like a ballerina. "That's pretty cool." The orange lady continued to amuse herself with small gestures and constantly changing positions. She hated sitting still, and she got bored very, very easily. "Lucas, we should watch some of the War Games, it'll be good to see some of the new SPARTANs, maybe recruits for Winter Team?" She looked excited, even though she was cute and cheery, she was a bit of a sadist.

"Sure, whatever, let's go. Lucas turned and walked backwards, nodding at the man named Connor. "Are you coming?"

Hazard was smoking a cigar on the couch, watching the reactions of the marines. Really, he didn't care for the SPARTANs, too bulky. Then he saw the woman enter the room.

"Erin Gannon." Hazard hopped up off the seat, and Erin rushed to hug him.

"I thought I lost you, John." Erin had tears amassing under her helmet.
"Ha. Never. Bravo is the best of the best. I got out of there, good that you did too." Johnathan sat back down with her, and they caught back up on what they were doing in the past few years.

Rasmus Boedker stood closer to eight feet tall than seven, fully armored. He weighed probably upwards of half a ton in that same armor, and despite the metal encasing the entirety of his body besides the head he was still surprised he'd managed to break a fellow Spartan's nose. Quite easily, in fact; and that was most of the reason his armor was covered in as much blood as it was. A superficial cut across his cheek from the same sparring match didn't help much, but nor was it particularly bloody.

Perhaps he'd have to avoid shoulder throws and some of the crazy advanced stuff he'd learned the next time a Spartan marksmanship specialist offered to spar with him six hours into his deployment. A little technique offered a little more advantage than some experience shooting stuff did, it seemed. Oh well, he supposed; it was just a nose, in the long run, and the sniper hadn't seemed too beat up physically or emotionally over it. Raz had done him enough of a favor to warn about his specialties, after all.

So he'd walked to the showers. One oddity to the next today, aboard a foreign ship: this time a couple of Marines whispering to each other if Spartans always showered in their armor. "No," he'd responded from across the room; the nonplussed look on the Marines' faces seemed to indicate that they hadn't caught the 'Spartans can hear a pin drop in a sandstorm' memo. That had put a smile on the big man's face. "This is just the fastest way to get the blood off." Let them think what they would of that, keep the Spartan mystique alive a little bit.

Raz hadn't bothered with a towel to dry his armor off; it would air-dry just fine. So instead he headed to the rec room, to try and get a feel for what people around here did for fun.

What he'd found, instead, was a surprising number of Spartans lounging around - perhaps the Winter Team he'd been briefed about, and maybe hoped to request a transfer to - he hadn't decided yet. "Why do they even put me in those...I'm a medic for god-sake!"

That brought another slight smile to Rasmus' face, though he also cocked his head curiously. "Medics aren't exempt from the rules of engagement," he intoned somewhat quietly. He would've thought that was common knowledge; then again, he was little more than the fresh-out-of-boot kid around here. Maybe they'd changed training doctrines or something in the gap between his class and the medic's. "You guys get to go through the same shit as the rest of us, don't you?"

Lucas shook his head, "Nah, she's just a bitch sometimes." He started walking away from Connor. "My break is over, I have a meeting now, I'll see you around." He thought about who he was going to see. This Omid guy, I've heard about him. Snapping from being a nice guy to a war machine in a heartbeat. It's fucked up, some of the bodies what were found after battle, they were nightmare fuel. Snapped bones, torn muscles, bloodied pulps of men.

"Lucas.~" Vulkan said in a sing-song voice. "I pulled up some files on that Omid guy, I think he's good for Team Winter. Perhaps your Emile?" She was still looking through files, pulling up anything and everything on Omid. "From Chicago on Earth, yada, yada, yada." It wasn't long until she found what she was looking for, footage of Omid in a War Games simulator. Even against ODSTs, Marines, SPARTANs, they all met the same fate - death.

Lucas sat down in a chair, waiting for Washington to enter. Vulkan closed the files and laid stomach-down on the table. Omid Washington was a force to be reckoned with and a fine man, hopefully he still has his skill.