Snippet #1843949

Jace

The greeting received only a pointed look, Jace simply looking at Caitriona with almost a pained expression. He did not bother to explain it. Further responses were thwarted by the arrival of two more team members. The first, a male...was revealed to be the head-case that had been red-flagged in Jace's notes, this one received a quick glance, as the team's medic drank more juice. The files were in conclusive on this one, but ruled that he would be of use. However, his lack of compassion would be noted. It was not uncommon, but ran close to being dangerous in the long run.

The next to step up, and looking rather...fresh from the gym...was Fiona. 'Wings' as her file had nicknamed her. How quaint. A quick mental check allowed Jace to remember; she was to be his back-up, one of the only others here that could patch up the human form with any skill. It would do well to keep her alive, he thought, incase he needed any work done himself. It was always good to have back-up, but spoke to Jace on a personal level; those on high though him incapable. This did not bode well. If they felt a need to provide extra support..then this mission was nasty indeed.

All in all it was a nice team, healthy..for the most part, and rather sane...once again for the most part. They would be fine, though not all would survive. When did they? He would do his best however to keep the red stuff in, and the bad stuff out. Preventative medicine was killing the bad guys before they killed your team. He learned it that way when serving with the Marines, and it stuck with him.

The toast, always the toast. Some traditions seemed like a waste, this was one Jace could do without. He tried ignoring it one mission once, but it became such an issue that he had resolved to put aside his personal feelings on the matter. Jace frowned, lifting his juice, and speaking for the first time. "Three. Nine. Seven." Even tones, not soft spoken, just bland. He put forth nothing in his voice, just pushing out the words as they were needed.