@thewcrehouse // bowie and cari
They had taken down the small army base hours before. While most of the crew had returned to the ship, Bowie had stuck around. First just to poke at the dead bodies, then to look over the medical equipment that had been left over. He was a scavenger, and while he held no interest to the species outside their equipment was catching his eye. Pressing random buttons, he observed each piece carefully, placing a bright pink adhesive to each one he was going to take.
Whenever Cash got back here with the truck, that was. He was always waiting on that piece of shit to arrive; he had grown overly used to just getting back in time for the ship to depart. Ambrose was fair but ruthless in leaving them on several planets, and he had paid that price more often than he liked.
“Bout fuckin’ time-” He turns as he hears the tent open, dropping the respirator from his hand to hang by his side. While the oxygen on the plain was perfectly breathable, he liked his tinged with nitrous oxide to spice things up. The patchwork human stares, the face not striking a spark of recognition. “Mm, you’re not Cash.” Bowie hums out the obvious, picking back up his mask to take a deep inhale.
That fuzzy feeling was good, almost as much as the thrill of all this new equipment he had to play with. “Sorry sunshine, this has all been claimed. If you’re looking for your uh army friends, they are dead. I could try to reanimate them though. I haven’t been overly successful but so far no zombies wanting to eat brains, you feel me?”