08-26-2025, 02:30 PM
[ cont. from <a href='https://xmenrp.com/index.php?showtopic=531' rel='nofollow noopener' target='_blank'>until the morn comes around</a> ]<br><br>Theresa Cassidy had never much cared for MRD business. Too often it reeked of suspicion, fear, and the faint iron tang of people waiting for violence to justify itself. But tonight, standing at the edge of a crash site that wasn't quite a crash, she found herself swallowing that distaste and setting her shoulders like she carried all their nerves herself. The cave ahead yawned dark and unsettled, a wound carved into the earth with no sign of wreckage to explain it. Something was inside—something restless enough to snatch an armed man without leaving so much as a scream.<br><br>Doug stood a few paces away, speaking low with the MRD's on-site commander, his knack for pulling meaning from words already smoothing over what might have been panic. Terry drifted closer, her presence quiet but intentional. She came up behind her teammate, speaking in turn, <b>"Your men are rattled, and I don't blame 'em." </b>She loosed a thread of her voice, nothing sharp—just a hum soft as breath, carrying that subtle nudge of serenity she'd long since learned to wield. The soldiers' shoulders eased. The darting, nervous glances slowed. <b>"We'll take it from here. If there's word worth sharin', you'll hear it direct from me." </b>They'd be convinced, soon enough, that their duty here was done, that X-Factor could handle the unknown without their trembling rifles.<br><br>At the mouth of the cave, John stood with his usual restless swagger, asking who would step first into the dark. Terry's gaze followed the shadows within, and she felt the pull of responsibility tighten her chest. Senior, like it or not. She offered Doug a small nod to finish the work he'd started, then crossed the ground toward John, her boots crunching on loose stone. <b>"You want volunteers? Grand."</b> she said as she approached the pyromanic, <b>"I'll go first. You can follow after, unless yer knees are knockin' too hard to walk."</b> In her typical playful fashion, Terry shot him a quick raspberry, tongue out and teasing. <br><br>That hum resumed, just a touch louder now, carried forward into the black like a beacon. Calm for the team, calm for the soldiers retreating behind them, calm for whatever thing had made this cave its cradle. If something listened, she wanted it to know: they weren't here to <i>rage</i>. They were here to <i>understand</i>.<br><br>