[center][h2][color=FF9912]Hawthorne Balthazar - Outcast Base[/color][/h2][/center]
Well, well, well! This was a pleasant surprise, wasn’t it? So many familiar faces gathered around in such close proximity. Some Hawthorne knew in person, and some only through hearsay. There only seemed to be one fellow that he knew nothing about. Standing off to his right was the ol’ Fluffykins himself, Lieutenant Colonel Maxim. Hawthorne felt some form of relief that his absence from service was an entirely legal one, not so for dear old Cassius however. Ah, Cassius, the prodigal sniper whose life was supposedly cut short in the midst of an ambush that left his entire squad in ruins. On his very first mission too. Simply tragic. Speaking of running away… Yeah, there she was. Olympia Marston, always good when a quick fix or a bit of stress reduction was needed. He made eye contact with her from across the room and wiggled his brows a bit. It’s only been, what? A few years with zero contact?

[color=f7941d]“...gonna ask Hawthorne, Alexi & Nate to join me in the War room real quick. I'll leave the rest of yall with the Deputy.”[/color]

He eased his gaze away from Olympia, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against with mock gusto to follow the given command. He studied the two companions entering the war room with him. Nate, Hawthorne immediately recognized as a potential threat. Anyone who knew anything about the guy should be aware that he was involved in some sort of black ops gig during the war. Hawthorne isn’t anyone however, and he dug up a whole lot more than just that. Jackal Squad were spooky guys, man. Alexi, Hawthorne definitely saw as a threat under the right (or more accurately, wrong) circumstances. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty, cutthroat mercenary that extorted her own clients for money. She was also probably wild in the bedroom… but still, psychopath. Hawthorne had heard all about her from multiple sources, especially the little stunt she pulled upon her apparent capture. Now, however, she was back and badder than ever. Hawthorne hoped if he crossed her path often, it would be over coffee or something, and not at end of her mech’s sword. 

[color=f7941d]“Okay....before we go any further, I need to know.....why did you decide to join the outcast guild?”[/color]

Oh boy, Hawthorne was all over this opportunity. [color=36648B]“So,”[/color] He began, his voice slightly sing-songy, though with a sturdy base. [color=36648B]“Are you practicing for some sort of play, ‘pardner’? Your accent’s gone. Or… is this a fake accent? And the one back there was the real one?”[/color] Hawthorne paused for a moment, before his face lit up. [color=36648B]“It doesn’t really matter anyways, that’s the correct answer, isn’t it? But if it does matter,”[/color] Hawthorne began slowly, taking a step toward the Sheriff and speaking in a conspiratorial manner. [color=36648B]“Tell me, alright? Anyways,”[/color] Here now he reclaimed his previous position and tone of voice. [color=36648B]“Why did I decide to join the Guild…? Will a ‘why not’ suffice? Or do you need my entire life story followed by hearing about how long I’ve been looking forward to this opportunity? I’m here because I want to make money and maybe kill some mech pilots.”[/color]