Pilgrim59
👑 Exalted Monarch 👑
"MAC" / MCMILLAN
"I sure hope so." She said to Father Martin with a melancholic smile. It seemed that a little bit of shared faith managed to distract her from the rapid transition of her life or lack thereof in their current state of purgatory. "And Mac will do just fine, Father." She then gave the Finn a light nod of acknowledgement, before acquainting herself with the man donning a spectral hat. It was only after Alinovi's introduction did McMillan truly felt the weight of her impulsive decision burying her feet. "Long as you'll do right by me. Even in purgatory, I'm keen on keeping my oath right as rain." She replied to the man sharply, almost as if her hunch was as solid as it often came about. With the current state of affairs, it was natural for her natural instincts to kick in. Developed from her line of work, Mac was sure to keep her intuitions close, until proven otherwise, despite her civil tact. Instead of throwing out the handcuffs and resting her knees over the necks of the usual suspects in the room, Mac chose to abide by her amiable patience. "I'm not gonna even try to pronounce your name, respectfully. Hope you don't mind me calling you by Anthony." She said to the Italian with a dry chuckle, knowing that she will just end up butchering his family name with her southern drawl. On the other hand, her viridiant optics were all over the man, almost as if she was sizing him up in silence.
Even now, the rationale of a once-brilliant keeper of the peace eludes her. Shaken by her own ardor, the petite paladin wondered if it was truly her own distinction or that of a coping mechanism to distract her from a recent tragedy. But in the grand scheme of things, it was not difficult to convince oneself to pick up the lonely sword down the untouched boulevard of broken dreams. inveiglement of the illusion of choice. Alas, she felt a sense of comfort in the multitude of company, a peculiar sentiment of hope at the end of the world - that humanity was able to come together. Having seen the worst of it during the Fall of Washington, the officer have yet to fully extinguish the flames of destruction within her.
She would be lying to herself if she unmindfully dismiss the vestige of adrenaline that coursed through her veins. She felt the dark desire of harming another human being wrestling for control of her heart - all in the name of justice and order. But before she could let it get the better of her senses, another voice broke through the fading visages around her. A voice that she had not heard for some time over spilled whiskeys.
McMillan then recalled his name, as she studied his dress blues. Her eyes then widened, greeting the man with a flushed expression. "Oerlikon." A playful nickname she had given him following their brief separation in pursuit of their divided path of careers. It fitted him quite nicely, given his time in the service. Dropping her sleeves slightly, the woman closed her distance with the quartermaster. Her arms then converged upon his flanks, before fulfilling their encirclement of his broad torso, although barely due to the perceivable difference in their heights.
"You half-baked potato! Thought you were a goner!" She raised her voice, embracing Obrekon wholeheartedly as she tried her best to hold in her tears. Burying herself in his dark uniform, she could not help but take a deep inhalation to savor his scent. It would not be right a thousand times over for her to shake off a friend that she shared a portion of her childhood with. Pulling herself back, she gave him a brief look of relief.
"I hope you brought some Jacks. 'Cause I could really use some right now." McMillan smiled softly, with her green eyes welling up. Never had she thought herself to be this sentimental. At the very least, in that moment, she felt human again.
Turning towards the priest once again, she had already made her choice. Renewed by a malleable form of hope and faith, she was sure to do her best to keep her given oath - to serve and protect. She gave the others an eyeful, taking heed of their declared names.
"So, what's the game plan?" Mac raised her voice, this time with a determined tone, but to no particular soul. In fact, she was gauging the room for any particular discrepancies in their shared causes. If any were made known now, it would save her the troubles to determine the threat from within before the real battle would begin in earnest. But only time will tell, contemplated the officer.
Interacted: Father Martin (
Stros
); McNeel Obrekon (
Huntertabbysandshark3
); Anthony Alinovi (
Worthlessplebian
)Mentioned: Liah Härkönnen (
RedArmyShogun
)
