Nine
The Overseer's room looks exactly the same when Nine returns, bag heavy with water bottles and food, and stuffed to the limit with every roll of toilet paper he found. He walks by Robin and looks at Arthur's injury. He's in pain, but hides it pretty well. "Don't worry! I've seen worse. All you need is a stimpack and you will be as good as new."
Nine pats Charlie's shoulder and observes the others. They seem fine. Time to move. "Ok people, since our scout will be busy I'll step ahead and check the Reception Room to see if there's anything useful." He lowers the duffel bag on the ground. "Anyone is welcome to come with me, following the rules."
Glass shards break under his boots as he walks the corridor and mutters to himself. "Man, nobody will never, ever believe that we killed a protectron with water bottles!" Nine just wishes that no more unpleasant surprises wait on the next room.
He crosses the large doorway into the ample room and is assaulted by memories of those anxious moments when he and others arrived, shaken and a bit disoriented after witnessing the end of the World. Remembering that it all happened centuries ago, and not just a few hours before, should give him some comfort, some distance to see everything under a rational, pondered light, dampening all the emotion. "Yeah, it should! Just it doesn't! Not at all!" Memory after memory haunts him, but one stands above the rest. Sophie, looking serious at him with those unforgettable blue-grey eyes and asking for one more chance. Now all chances were that he would never know if she deserved that chance...
"Enough!" He speakes to himself, shaking his head and trying to fix his attention on the present. "Leave that for later, Nine! Let's take a good look at this place!"
PER check for reception room: 1d10+6=12