[D] Outland Unit (Day Nine+)

[Burter]

PCs: Broli, Minoshia, Bulma, King Cold

[King Cold444]

"We will open the gates, you are welcome here." It rang it the envelopes of his mind as he stood on the outskirts, rifle slung over his shoulder with his eyes set on the vast shimmering waves to the east. It was vivid in his mind, the enveloping darkness and whispers of officials that preferred to be shrouded in secracy. Although the intriguing request of his commander had filled what void lingered it could only do so for as long as they were in the forced limelight of the counsel's deliberation.

A stick of tobacco dangled from between his lips and the changeling sighed, relinquishing his grasp on a harsh and ashen smog. A congregation of soldiers had taken the time out of their hectic schedules to approach the changeling, throwing inquiries about the whereabouts of their lieutenant. With a smug reassurance plastered against his visage he'd directed them towards the stampeding warriors that housed the one they were assigned to, the konat boy according to the infantry. They'd taken haste, though only for a moment, and the changeling was called to attention and given the command to rejoin his unit. Flinging his unfinished cigarette to the floor brought a scoff from within the lower recesses, Cold putting the life out of the flame.

King Cold hustled, getting up to his captain with relative ease despite their hasty departure and approached him. His hands cradled a pistol and he loaded its core into the base, eyes settling upon the changeling soldier that stood at his presence and the brows jerking upwards.

"Soldier, I take it you know that we're on the move and where we're going?" His lieutenant had asked of him, receiving a nod of approval. Cold, although he hadn't received direct confirmation of where they were headed, had some inclination of what exactly they were doing. Well, so he thought.

"Yeah, I know where we're headed... I think." Cold admitted.

"I guess that's just how it has to be sometimes." The lieutenant gasped through a newfangled haze from a freshly picked cigarette, offering one to the changeling. He, of course, denied and thought to settle on fabricating some irrelevant excuse, but settled for the truth. He'd already smoked, but pointed at the lieutenants sidearm and offered to exchange his own for it. A fleeting chuckle was aloud, but died immediately. "You can't have my gun soldier."

OOC: Anybody wanna approach me make haste.