Umbrella Surveillance System
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Trixie Early evening has come to Denver, and most people at the hotel are either out on the town or in one of the eateries or clubs/bars. The pool is all but deserted as Trixie leaps from the diving board, knifing cleanly into the vividly blue water. Surfacing with a soft gasp, she slides into a strong breaststroke, making for the other side of the pool.
Ares Buchanan Laid back on the other side of the pool is one Ares Buchanan, nearly unrecognizeable without his coveralls and armor, tattoos on full display. He cracks an eye open as he hears somebody paddling his way. "Oh," the large man sits up and offers a wave, "howdy. Ain't seen you in a minute, how's it goin'?"
Trixie Reaching the other side, Trixie pauses in mid-turn and looks up at the speaker, blinking once, then smiling faintly. "Oh. Hey. Didn't I meet you at the truck stop, after it all went sour?" she asks warmly. "Good to see some more folks made it out." The smile reaches her eyes initially, but only for a moment, her eyes turning distant as she continues.
Ares Buchanan "Sure did. And we rode the same bird outta that hellhole." Ares flashes Trixie a warm smile. It appears that since that time he's also seen a fully stocked doctor, because his arm is in a cast. "I'd been to the church ah few times too. Brought food and whatnot, never ran into ya though. Just that blonde girl an' ah doctor type. Set my arm for mr."
Trixie "Yeah... that might've been the Major. Lord, I hope he made it out of there. And the others, too," Trixie murmurs, her smile vanishing completely. "My squad was scouting a route to the evac point when we got cut off. It was like the Groaners just started coming from everywhere... we were lucky any of us lived to reach the drop zone. I never found out if they found a way out of the church encampment and reached the helos. I sure hope so."

She manages a faint smile. "That /was/ you, wasn't it? Talking about hoping you never saw another zombie again, or something like that?"
Ares Buchanan "Think that was him. I'm sure they made it out alright, strong people." Ares pushing up to his feet and stretches, waking up from the nap he took. "That was me, yeah." he shoots Trixie a grin. "It's a bit weird getting used to regular life again. Straight from scavenging for food to looking for work."
Trixie "I don't know what to do... that town was my whole world." Trixie rolls onto her back and floats there, staring at the skylight far above. "So my world's just gone. I'm still getting my head around it." She looks sidelong at Ares. "Had any luck looking for work?"
Ares Buchanan "Well, they have a waffle house here." Ares walks over to the edge of the pool, sitting down and getting his feet wet. "But I'll probably be lookin' into what happened to my cousin, Magnus. He went missin' before the outbreak, not sure if he was workin' for the government or Umbrella. But I'd like ta know."
Trixie "If you want help, I'd be glad to. Not like I've got anything better to do. I even left a message with the Guard, but so far I haven't gotten any response back," Trixie say softly, still mostly staring up at the skylight. "The name doesn't sound familiar, but maybe his employer will have records."
Ares Buchanan "Maybe. Almost wish I wasn't a thirty year old felon, I'd join up with tha police or whoever. Don't want anything like that happening again." Ares turns his own gaze skyward. "I don't have a problem with you taggin' along. But I don't have a vehicle anymore, and I wouldn't know where to start."
Trixie "I'm not sure, either. Most employee records are supposed to be public knowledge, but that doesn't mean much after what happened in Raccoon City," Trixie murmurs, shivering in spite of the warmth of the heated water. "Clearly a lot of things are being kept quiet, for better or most likely for worse."
Ares Buchanan "Probably worse. Nobody seems to even know what really happened, outside of us that were there." Ares leans back on his hands, sighing quietly. "All a bunch ah fuck shit if you ask me."
Trixie "Maybe, but whoever is responsible for Raccoon City is liable for criminal charges that would make mass murder look like a trip to the principal's office, to say nothing of potential civil suits for loss of life and property. They're going to do everything they can to keep that information locked up tight. Which just makes missions of mercy like yours a lot harder," Trixie muses. "Worst part is, I saw a British newscast a couple nights ago... they just blew it off as some kind of attention-whoring ploy by the American government." She sniffs softly. "Pompous stuffed shirts hiding behind elitist-colored glasses... I'd like to stick /them/ in a room full of Groaners and see what they think of American attention-whoring /then/."
Ares Buchanan "I imagine they're just saying that to keep people calm. We should know as well as anybody what happens when people panic." Ares sits back upright, "I'm not saying it's right. Just how it is. Doesn't mean I won't be figurin' out a way to let them know what happened there. They've got ah right to, and ta know it won't happen to them."
Trixie "Maybe. It still feels like cheapening what the survivors went through, if you ask me," Trixie replies softly, boosting herself onto the edge of the pool and standing in two graceful movements. "Let me know if I can help you with that, too. I'm in 1702. But I should get dried off and try to sleep. Maybe I can even manage not to have nightmares tonight, but I'm not betting on it. Take care, okay?" She turns toward a table where a pair of hotel bath towels and a set of cheap shower sandals are awaiting her.
Ares Buchanan "Alright, take care. I'll be around if you can't sleep and need ta talk to somebody." Ares offers, pushing back up and heading over to where his things are. "Time for ah blunt break anyway."