Looking to the right, the hallway goes quite a ways down. There are several doors along the way, but also an open space at the far end that looks like it might be a stairwell.
Unfortunately, it's immediately clear that these hallways aren't going to provide any cover whatsoever.
Unfortunately, it's immediately clear that these hallways aren't going to provide any cover whatsoever.
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"...Shoulda had them deported when I had the chance--. What? Walters? Just a sec."
More sounds of weapons fire.
"...Just say 'Landing Bay.' The elevator is prepped for all Earth accents. It'll take you right there."
"...Gotta go. Taking fire, kicking ass...Good luck!"
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He grins and steps in, but doesn't relax. They aren't close to done yet. "Who's Michelle Pfeiffer, anyway?"
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"Some chick from late 20th Century Earth movies," she offers, unhelpfully. She's not a big movie-goer, which is a shame as it really cuts down on the potential corniness of her combat dialog.
"I'm not sure which one Jen's referencing."
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As for Michelle? The temptation, oh, the temptation.
"Michelle Pfeiffer is a film actress that won the Hasty Pudding Award from Harvard a few years ago. She does pudding with preternatural speed."
But she can't keep a straight face while she says this.
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It takes her a second to pick up on the conversation, but hey, why waste an excuse for snark, even if it's belated?
"Goldy's not an alien, she just looks like one."
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Then he holds up one finger and tilts his head to the side.
"...does anyone else hear that?" There's quiet music coming from somewhere. It sounds a little like 'Girl from Ipanema', played on alien throat whistles, accompanied on the bongos. By someone with tentacles.
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"Intermission?" she says, smirking.
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"Are we going to spend the rest of the mission in a stationary elevator, boogying down with our Musak Diva here?" Goldy wonders. "Or... is someone going to say 'Landing Bay'?"
The door slides shut with an appropriate swoosh, and the elevator promptly begins to zip upwards.
Goldy nods smugly.