Yondu's decided not to go towards the classrooms just yet. Orange and Blue are both searching, and he knows Orange has a hefty amount of investigators. So he's veering after the usual combatants, looking with a thief's eye into some of the conference rooms. Checking the undersides of tables, in the cracks of panels on walls, holding his arrow out in his hand like a torch to look into places that the usual red light has left too dim. Little red streaks follow his movement.
"My fin's not workin' right," he mumbles to whoever's near him. He could turn on the arrow, yeah, but he cant operate it right now. Can't tell if it's because of the tech or that wire-addled meatsack he calls a brain or both. Inconvenient, either way. "Bodes well, don't it? You find anything?"
Not even the slightest clue for him. Even a phone under a chair turns up nothing.
Ghost Ship Story
After a harrowing ordeal in a corridor and being trapped in a room for hours (after he'd looked around, tried to examine the locks, he'd just gone to sleep eventually because what the hell else would he do?) he's back out and searching again.
He tries to contact Kitty. No luck. He debates if he should put a general call out to the SCAs but he's not sure they're working correctly at all with whatever is going on. He's got a feeling they might get led sideways. Especially as he finds himself examining a thoroughly broken SCA in the wrecked dining hall.
He keeps his scratchy voice low, speaking to the person next to him. "Y'know, I'd hear these stories sometimes about people comin' across big ol' assault ships or docking vessels just completely abandoned. Like ever'body got spooked an' up and left. People come up with all kinds of theories about them places, one just as likely as the other in my opinion. But I feel a lot like we just walked into one of a ghost ship story, and I do not like the idea of bein' a character in someone's theoreticals."
no subject
"My fin's not workin' right," he mumbles to whoever's near him. He could turn on the arrow, yeah, but he cant operate it right now. Can't tell if it's because of the tech or that wire-addled meatsack he calls a brain or both. Inconvenient, either way. "Bodes well, don't it? You find anything?"
Not even the slightest clue for him. Even a phone under a chair turns up nothing.
He tries to contact Kitty. No luck. He debates if he should put a general call out to the SCAs but he's not sure they're working correctly at all with whatever is going on. He's got a feeling they might get led sideways. Especially as he finds himself examining a thoroughly broken SCA in the wrecked dining hall.
He keeps his scratchy voice low, speaking to the person next to him. "Y'know, I'd hear these stories sometimes about people comin' across big ol' assault ships or docking vessels just completely abandoned. Like ever'body got spooked an' up and left. People come up with all kinds of theories about them places, one just as likely as the other in my opinion. But I feel a lot like we just walked into one of a ghost ship story, and I do not like the idea of bein' a character in someone's theoreticals."