[Crossbow]

"You mean this tower is haunted too?" says Digger.  Anyone watching sees him look around and give himself the Sign of the Cross before proceeding.

Off the commlink, he mutters "Yeah, I am definitely gonna need a drink." 

[Kontact]

Arriving on the 60th found everyone in a medium sized conference room, the large meeting table crushed to the ground with legs splayed, doors ripped off hinges to the south and west and a temporary dividing wall to the next conference room half torn down.  There was evidence here of a lengthy habitation by the now dead gargoyle.  Chunks of plascrete scattered about the remains of victims spanning a not-inconsiderable span of time.  There were some weapons here and there, and not all of them were scrapped.

[joe15552]

The doberman and Devoted both touch down in the conference room.

Devoted gives Codemonkey a thumbs up, then takes a knee, seemingly meditating on something.

[Crossbow]

Digger toes through some of the discarded weaponery, then reaches down and hefts an AK to examine more closely.

"Coulda used something like this a few minutes ago...."

Pulling back the slide to examine the chamber, Digger is mildly perturbed when the pitted metal rips out the back end of the weapon.  He looks at the seperated pieces of useless metal in his hands, as well as the scattered inner workings rolling away on the floor.  He then drops it back to the ground and dusts off his hands.

"...or not." he mumbles as he continues to scavenge.

[Kontact]

All-in-all, Digger didn't find much.  Best of the batch was a Predator II pistol with a bit of severed fiber-optic cable still attached to the antiquated datajack port for its smartgun system.  It seemed serviceable, and the clips would fit his Pred IV, but the rounds were all handload garbage.  There were a few hunting rifles that were already crap before a Rock-monster took a steaming shit on them.  One rifle looked like it once was pretty nice.  The wood was polished to a shine with skin oils from continuous usage, and it had a solid scope on the top.  too bad the barrel was bent and the butt-stock cracked from where its owner bashed it fruitlessly against the Gargoyle's stony hide as he was taken up to his death.

While Digger was considering this, Ruckus noticed Machete trying to secret away a couple of found grenades and talked him into splitting them up, one apiece.  A couple of old pull-pin HE grenades.  Neither of them had any idea whether they'd work right.  Other than that, they spotted an AK 97 Carbine which might have enough serviceable parts to make a working rifle when it was combined with the broken AK Digger had first found.

[joe15552]

Devoted stands to his feat and looks around the room in wonder. His movement is awkward, since he has to turn his whole body that is encased in a hazmat suit to look around. He looks over the weapons, but he seems to be trying to look through the piles of rubbish and weapons... This kid is not a weapons guy, and it is not completely obvious what he is looking for, but whatever it is, he is searching while standing in one spot... which doesn't seem like it would be very effective.

[inca1980]

Machete non-chalantly passes the a few grenades to Ruckus to distribute.  "Be my guest, if you vatos wanna blow your faces off tossin' these fuckers around, be my guest.  I just use em to booby trap my sleeping spots.  The short fuse on an old grenade works perfect."  He turns his attention away from the gargoyles nest and starts scoping out the perimeter of the floor.  

[Kontact]

The smoke damage on the lower levels was noting compared to the 60th.  Machete could easily follow the trails and tracks that the Gargoyle left in the decades-old sludge found on everything.  The creature's wanderings had left a pattern like veins traveling through the old cubicle-farm of the office floor.  A history of monstrosity living in filth.  Lot of that to be found in Chi-town.  This was a poisonous, precarious place and not one to dally in.  To the south, Codemonkey's Stormcloud was hovering just outside of a busted-out floor-to ceiling window, it's optic lenses focusing in on them as they shuffled about piles of refuse and leavings.  The northeast staircase seemed to have the strongest floor leading to it, and the least shit.  Well, mostly the least shit.  Who cares about the floor...

[Crossbow]

Digger pulls out an industrial trashbag and puts the most promising bits of hardware into it.

"Might find some zone armorer wants to trade if nothing else." he mutters.

After finding a comfortable way to carry the bag and keep his weapons accessible, he starts trudging up the stairs.

[joe15552]

Devoted notices Digger going up the stairs, and begins to follow him, still keeping an eye on the strips of glomoss on his arm.

[inca1980]

Machete moves cautiously around the room his under-barrel flashlight illuminating the nooks and crannies and his slit-like pupils narrow as the light scatters back.  As soon as he notices Digger behind him stuffing trashbags full of junk he stops suddenly and tenses up.  His back still turned towards the dwarf, he reaches one of his hands towards his back and the chime of a blade being unsheathed rings through the corridor.  "We came here for one thing and one thing only.  You think this is just some kind of simple snatch and grab?  This doesn't smell good....sniper in the south building, dead mages...  We're gonna have to travel light so either loose the pinche-trashbag or i'll lose it for ya." 

[Crossbow]

Digger begins to turn when he hears a weapon draw, but upon regeistering the words, he returns to his activity.

"We? Are 'we" friends now, AHH-me-go?  Cuz I figger friends share 'tings, like info when we don't all know what we might be facing.  I figger we also don't draw down on each other without a good reason.  You a tough guy Match-ete, I get that, Dere's a lot tough guys in La Familia, but when tough guys think they can go into business for themselves or name themselves capo, tings don't always work out. Capiche?"

[joe15552]

Dovoted stops moving, and watches the two men with pure fright and helplessness. His jaw hangs loose, his mouth opens, and nothing but stiffled, nervous breathing comes out.

[inca1980]

"Listen, I ain't nobody's AMIGO.....amigo.  They pay me to run you through this hell-hole and keep you alive.  I plan on doing just that and keeping alive means keeping your head low.  Just like you said chummer, we ain't here on personal business so do your scavengin' on ur own time....understand..."   The blade hold's steady in his hand. 

[Crossbow]

Seeming unconcerned with Machete in general, Digger continues what he was doing.  Actions speaking louder than words, the challenge hangs heavy in the air.