"On behalf of the Hellfire Initiative, I've come to congratulate you on your hard work.” George calls, his voice causing whispering chatter to abound the room. Liv shoots a confused look to Charlotte, though the thinner woman seems to be lost in shock. At Liv's look, however, she manages to pull herself together enough to speak.

"He's one of the strongest people in the Initiative. He only answers Group A..." She whispers quickly, though she can see Liv's expression unchanged. Charlotte shakes her head, whispering. "You'll learn about it later."

George clears his throat, silence overtaking the room once more. "Good, formalities out of the way. Meat and potatoes, then." He claps, his stare suddenly turning as cold as ice. "Frankly put, none of you are worth anything to me, or to Hellfire as you are."

A confused murmur goes through the group, one quickly silenced as he stomps his foot down, sending a gust of air through the hall. Many of those who stand closer to the front fall onto their back, Liv having to brace herself just to stay standing, the air blowing her hair back wildly.

“I’ve seen hundreds of punks like you,” He starts, his arms crossing as he turns the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other, smoke billowing from his mouth like a dragon, “Thinking you’re hot shit, getting cocky, and dying.” He growls, grabbing his mostly used cigarette, the half smoked paper snapping betwixt his fingers. “Well let me be the first to give you a reality check. You aren't a hero, you aren't a warrior of legend, and none of you aren't going to destroy all the Stratas. All of you are noobs, and only a handful of you are gonna make it past retirement. Demons will outnumber you by quantities I don't care to spell out to you, and the number of people who can possibly take on enough to make a noticeable difference is countable on my hands, and none of you have the raw talent of someone like Micah. If you can't accept that, if your feelings are hurt, or if you just realized dying before retirement isn't in your best interest, then the door is right there." He gestures to the end of the room, to the doors where they entered.

A silence overtakes the room once more, some of the occupants still scurrying up from their prone positions on the floor. The mood of the hall has seemingly soured, everyone either feeling called out, angry, or ignoring said callout. Liv was moreso interested in the latter part. If this man, strong enough to nearly knock her down with a stomp of a foot, was speaking about this Micah person with such reverence... Was he that strong?

George nods at the general vibe of the room, his face returning to a more impassive state. "Hardy crowd. That speech usually gets a few people. Alright, let's move on to the actual point of this meeting.” He says, raising two fingers. “You got accepted, but you still need to be placed in a group. Luckily for you sorry bums, the Hellfire Initiative has tests so the less fortunate folks don't get nepo'd out of chances they deserve.”

He chuckles to himself, None of the crowd following. If it affected him, he doesn't let it show as he continues, lowering one of his fingers.

“First is the Strength Test. Basically, we’re gonna ask you to lift heavy shit to see who can lift the heaviest shit.” He smirks, lowering another. “Next is your general combat tests. Unfortunately, you gotta fight people sometimes. Synth Corrupted people, weirdo cultists, and some generally dumb asses who think they can just take your weapon from you for a myriad of reasons. Whatever the case, testing your combat prowess is imperative. Once we get all those tests done, we’ll be able to divide you into groups. Questions?” He asks, looking to the crowd. A few hands jut up, including Charlotte’s. Liv looks over the crowd, her eyes hanging a bit as she analyzes those who get their questions answered. George points to someone closer to the front. Liv manages to pin him as the guy from the bus, jumping to get the height necessary to be noticed.

“Yeah, I got one!” He says, landing back on the floor, his hands falling to his sides. “Just wondering if we would get to pick our own teams.”

George smirks, looking at him. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out yet another cigar. He flicks his hand, the tip of the cigar igniting as he speaks. “Good question. Typically, you have some small liberties with your group; however, there is a month grace period so you don't run around and join a hundred teams in a week. The only time your choice don't matter is if one of the upper brass pick you up. Letting the strongest thrive in their element is for the best, after all.”

A wave of murmurs erupts through the crowd, some of discontent, some of relief. George looks over the crowd before pointing to the middle of the crowd. “You, big guy. What's the question?”

Liv looks over to see a large, metal, hulking man standing in the center of the crowd. In terms of height, he easily trounces her, resting somewhere around Charlotte; furthermore, his body is just as bulky as hers, though that has more to do with the dusty metal encasing him. He's robot-esque in appearance, not a lick of skin visible beneath his armored carapace.

"Faraji Alema, sir." He booms out, his voice fuzzy. “How free are the strongest in their choices?” He questions.

A murmur goes through the crowd, trepidation passing through in hushed whispers. It seems that was a question on many a persons mind.

“Pretty damn free.” George responds, plucking the cigar from his mouth. He allows the smoke to billow for a moment, his next words coming out relaxed. “Top five get any choice of any person, no ifs and buts.”

An eruption of noise cascades from the crowd, aghast with murmurs of excitement and fear. For the first time, placements were truly in the minds of all. To get a good score means getting the first pick of people.

“Pay attention.” Liv’s boss’s voice cuts through her mindlessness, causing her to blink back to focus. Liv was still looking at the metallic man, trying to see if she could see a hint of flesh. She wondered if he was a robot or something else, but she hadn’t gotten any hints just from his appearance.

“I can do whatever I want.” Liv shoots back mentally, crossing her arms as she refocuses on the suited man on stage. Not because they asked, but because she wanted to. Probably. He fields a few more questions about the tests, most of them vague in scope until. As the last hands fall, George’s hands fall to his suit pockets, his eyes wandering the crowd.

"Alright, no more questions.” He calls, stretching his arms above his head, a cacophony of pops escaping his back. "We'll get to testing soon. Rest up, prepare, all that jazz."

With that, George descends the stairs, the crowd parting around him as he exits. The crowd begins to follow, Liv and Charlotte near the front of the group. Liv covers her mouth with her hand, yawning as they walk.

“Tired?” Charlotte asks, a teasing smirk on her face.

“Yeah. Somethin’ funny bout that?” Liv asks curiously, her head tilting to the side.

“You slept for half the bus ride. I'm just shocked you could still be tired after all that rest.” Charlotte says, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she covers it.

“Tch.” Liv mutters, crossing her arms. “Yer fault since ya woke me up.”

“Oh, is it?” Charlotte leans down a bit, her smile growing wider. “My apologies then.”

“Oh, uh," Liv starts, an awkward smile growing on her face, "I guess yer forgiven.” As the group continues to advance, Liv taps her chin, a thought springing to her mind. “You reckon this place got any food lyin’ around?”

“I would assume so. I know they provide for their agents, so it’s not farfetched to believe they have a food court of some sort.” Charlotte muses, turning her smug smile toward Liv once more. “Are you hungry?”

“Lil bit.” Liv says, patting her stomach.

“Hmm… Well, I assume they’re closed. Would you like to get something in the morning?” Charlotte asks, her smile growing wider as she sees the gears turn in Liv’s head.

“I reckon I wouldn’t mind.” Liv says slowly, a smile spreading across her own face. Charlotte had told her about some of the great foods she’s tried, foods that aren't prepackaged or made by Charlotte’s inexperienced hands. Her mouth begins to water at the thought of having something considered “good” by Charlotte's standards.

The group ascends the stairs, climbing more and more until, eventually, they reach what appears to be a sprawling hallway with room numbers plastered on each door. George smirks, looking over the panting crowd. Only a handful seem unaffected, Liv and Charlotte being among them. Liv watches as George walks off, ascending further up the seemingly endless staircase.

“I assume we just claim a room.” Charlotte muses, walking forth. She looks to Liv, pointing to the two closest doors. “Neighbors?”

“Sure.” Liv says, shrugging as she walks to one of the rooms. She notices the key in the lock, turned to be unlocked by default. She grabs it, opening the door, her eyes widening at the scene before her. The entire room is almost as big as the cabin she stayed in with even better accommodations. This place has an entire kitchen with a large bed, a desk, and what appears to be a walk-in closet. Liv gawks as she closes the door behind her, throwing the key onto the counter.

Liv slowly walks to the bed, running her hand over the sheet. Even with her gauntlets on, she could tell the material was silky smooth. Liv does the only reasonable thing one could do in a situation like this. She jumps up and lays down on the bed, spreading herself like a starfish. A yawn peels from her lips, her mind drifting into the endless sea of sleep. She felt she could get used to the luxury, and having a nice bed under her, of warm food and water. If the Hellfire Initiative could supply that? It was a goal to strive toward, one she would push toward.