Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Searat
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@HamakazeKai @Cuddles 1438

'Caesar's legion? Been a while since I heard that name. Ever since NCR kicked them out of Nevada that is.' Emil thinks to himself. He hears Bailey's comment regarding their employer's choice of mercs. "Well...the pariah has their reasons to choose any of us, right?" He pauses for a while and thinks his next choice of words. "I'm real good at explosives and such, and I craft a lot too. I'm also real good with laser weaponry. Maybe that's why he chose me."

It was then the woman known as Monika made her rather cold exit. "Jeez. What crawled in her boot and died?" Emil makes a comment addressed to himself.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by HamakazeKai
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Bailey looks at Emil as Monika storms off, She rolls her eyes expecting him to know better since he's heard of the legion before.

"I don't much care what people are good at... As long as those "Brotherhood of Steel" folks don't start any of their tech hording bullshit we'll be alright."

Bailey glances over at Monika as she sits back in her corner and lights up again.

"I don't think she likes men much... Because I've heard the traders from out west talk about what those legion savages do to women... So I wouldn't take it personally."
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"Thats understandable...I guess. I just know they're bad folk that deserved what happened to thrm." Emil lets out a shrug. "Well, I do hope these brotherhood folk are here to help. God knows what manner of beasts we find inside." He involuntarily shudders as he remembers that there are worse things than a yao guai.
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Bailey chuckles when Emil shudders, She looks up at him with a smile on her face.

"If wasteland Mutants and Abominations scare you that much maybe you should have stayed away? This place does have a reputation up and down the East Coast after all..."

She reaches into her bag and pulls out her whetstone and starts sharpening her combat knife with the sound of the whetstone sliding down the blade echoing around the room. She has her own misgivings about this foray into what used to be New York City before the war but her air of confidence is overwhelming. On her way here she made peace with the fact that she might die in there and is ready to get the job done or die trying.

"I don't know about you but I've already made peace with the fact I might die in there... I suggest you do the same Emil."
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Polaris North How I Socially Interact

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M A R V I N H I L L E R

Marvin hadn't spent a century of being a ghoul without knowing the telltale signs of someone not being used to seeing them. Or was not comfortable being around them. But it was alright with him. He's used to others not treating him the same because of him being a ghoul. At least she didn't scream and point, or take a gun and shoot. Marvin could probably rule that into one of his Top 10 Most Horrible Moments. Though from what he can tell, it didn't seem like his appearance was the only thing to distract her from the here and now. Interesting. She seemed to be of that age after all, so he wouldn't be surprised.

The thought of something as simple and idiotic as that made Marvin smile because he knew that it was wistful thinking to have hardened wastelanders acting like that.

When posed about the question of how long they will be there, Marvin was silent for a while. He looked around - giving everyone a passing glance before turning back to the young girl in front of him. "Not sure. We have our orders, sure, but not much else." He gestured to the people who were part of the Brotherhood of Steel and the Mask. "But someone will probably take the lead for the operation." With how powerful the BoS think they are, Marvin had reason to think that one of those Paladins would take the helm of leading them. Though the question of whether or not anyone would follow would remain to be seen. After all, it didn't look like a lot were fond of them.

Marvin rubbed the back of his head, but was careful not to let the hood fall. Last thing he wanted was the girl to stumble on her words even more by showing her more ghoul features. "It'll probably be soon." He finally actually replied to her question. "Everyone's too antsy now. Better we move soon than wait." He pointed out.

@Dread
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"Oh, believe me ma'm. I'm not scared of most mutants and abominations." Emil scratches the back of his head breifly."Its just that once you see a 10 foot tall deathclaw toss aside a full grown brhamin aside like it was a ragdoll, it really makes a nightmarish sight to see..." He pauses a moment to ponder the reality that he might really die in Necropolis. "I know that I might die here." Emil answers her with an optimistic smirk on his face. "...but I don't plan on it though. Too many people left in the wastes to help." His smirk turns into a neutral line and eyes grow cold, almost unnaturally so. "Too many bad folk to put away..."
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Alfhedil
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Khaliya, The Swordwind


December 3rd, 2286
Fleetwood Subway Station

Interacting with - @Apocalypse


The subtle hum of her armor encasing her provided just enough background noise to cover the silence in between their greetings, and reminded her that perhaps she was putting herself a little too much in the center of attention. It was just a little thing, but with so many eyes on her, she couldn't help but slowly assess the threat of each person in kind, how they chose to bide their time while waiting and their own reactions to her and her husband. Thoughts turned to ideal angles of attack, priority targets, non-combatants, possible crossfire opportunities and- Khaliya hid her irritation well with a smile, seeing the extended hand before her and the mutual decision to stand down.

It was the smart move of course, just as Jeremiah had pointed out to her just a moment ago. They had to work together for the mission and being at odds right out of the gate would not do well for that. Just as well, she needed to perhaps prove that she wasn't entirely like what the Brotherhood was made out to be. With just a press of the actuator within the glove of her right hand gauntlet, the back of her power armor opened up to release her. Mechanical clasps keeping her in place within the exoskeleton clicked open and with a slight hop she came out the back and stood upright, running a hand through her shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair. Off to the side Jeremiah had seen what she was doing and disengaged from his own conversation to do the same.

Now free of her power armor, she presented an entirely different picture than when she stepped into the subway and definitely from how urban legend had described her. Standing at just barely over five feet, she was a head shorter than most of the others in the subway and walked with a casual ease that made it seem as if she was not at all serious about what lie at the end of the tunnel. Khaliya simply smirked up at "The Mask" who stood more than a foot taller than her.

"Khaliya is fine." Grasping her hand firmly, she was already dedicated to the comment that made Jeremiah groan from across the station. "I'll have you know, that most of what you've heard about me are tall tales." She pulled away, putting both hands in the pockets of her uniform pants and just swayed slightly there with only pavement beneath her feet, the toes of one foot flesh and pressing into the concrete while the other being the metallic of a mid-grade cybernetic.

"Perhaps at least one of our team-members here has a map, though if not my husband and I have enough experience with recon to guide us where we need to go. Where exactly that is, I have no idea just yet, but I'm sure we shall find out in due time."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by HamakazeKai
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Bailey smirks at Emil before looking down in disbelief.
"What people would you call "Bad" then? Afterall Good and Bad is all a matter of perspective... Some people think the Brotherhood are heroes and others think they're villains."

She continues sharpening her blade and wonders whether Emil has encountered the Enclave before and if so what he thinks of them in comparison to the Brotherhood. She remembers the stories her parents told her of the Enclave's exploits out west in the Mojave and California.
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Frankie Cabrera


[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North

“Yeah, ‘antsy’, the understatement of the year.” She chuckled. “I'm pretty sure any place but here would be more exciting.”

Patience wasn't exactly Frankie’s best virtue, in fact, it probably never even made it on her “life list”, at least when it came to having to wait around for something she really knew next-to-nothing about. Still, she supposed it was better than sitting out in the wasteland with the high possibility of being eaten by something unnatural. Even living amongst Raiders was safer than that, which in and of itself was a surprising thought.

“So…” She glanced over at the collection of armored Paladins momentarily, before returning her attention to Marvin. “What are the odds of us getting armor like that?” She smirked, more or less trying to keep herself entertained, and maybe get a rise out of the other. “I mean, here we are, a few scraps to run around with, meanwhile, those guys-" She motioned her head toward the Brotherhood’s direction. “-get to walk around in a tank.” Her nose crinkled up, thinking just how unfair and unbalanced it all felt, but on the brightside, she will most likely be kept busy enough not to think about how much things suck.

“Anyway.” She sighed. “I try to keep my head clear during times like these, especially because I have a feeling my hands will -quite literally- be bloodier than yours by the end of all this.” She paused for a moment as though thinking of that statement. “Unless I’m dead, of course.” She shrugged, removed her leather motorcycle jacket and tossed it aside before raising her arms up above her head to continue her stretching exercises from earlier, the charcoal gray t-shirt lifted up just enough for her belly to show, as well as the silver navel ring that was stuck through it.

“Yep.” She said matter-of-factly. “It’s Yoga. Don’t judge.” She then proceeded to arch her back several degrees and holding it for a few seconds before straightening up again and lowering her arms in front of her and smiled. “It’s probably the only thing keeping me from punching someone in the face.”
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Searat
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Emil quickly returns to his casual demeanor before speaking. "Bad, huh?" He bites the side of his cheek as he begins to remember the lessons and information taught to him by life experiences, mistakes, and Felix himself. "I do agree that it is a matter of perspective, but there are things that are simply...wrong." He remembers one of his very first kills. It was a meek and unassuming farmer that lived in a dilapidated farmhouse someplace in the outskirts of Dayglow. He was travelling at the time and needed a place to rest for the night, the farmer had offered him a place to stay out of what had seemed to be kindness and good will. Farthest thing from it. The farmer was a cannibal and some sort of deranged serial killer that liked targeting weary travelers. He thought that Emil would be just like the others. He wasn't. Emil could still remember the sensation of breaking his skull as he beat the man to death with a stool. "Cannibalism and harming innocents are some of the things I consider ba-sorry-wrong." Emil unintentionally rubs his neck where there were some faded scars from a slave collar. "Slavery and banditry are always wrong."

He then remembered tales from the older folk in NCR talking about the Enclave. "There was a group in the past called the Enclave or something. Nasty bunch if I should base it on the accounts of those who lived through their near monstrous actions years back...though there was hearsay when I was in Nevada regarding some delivery guy or something recruiting a bunch of former Enclave to kick the legion outta Nevada. So, if that story is true, there may be some nice folk there too. Just as how some unsavory folk are in groups like the brotherhood and NCR. He lets out a huff. "Can't tell for myself though, considering I haven't met any Enclave folk myself. Maybe one day, right Bailey?" He ends with a good natured chuckle.
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Marvin couldn't help but let out a small laugh, silent enough as to not put any unnecessary attention on him, but loud enough for Frankie to hear that it was actually pretty genuine. "Low." He replied first with a shake of his head. "Wanna join the Brotherhood and see how soon we can get some sweet armor like that?" He joked with a grin. Obviously, he didn't take it seriously since he, himself, was one of the targets of the Brotherhood's views. He would immediately be shot to death or to smithereens if he even thought of passing through a squad. It was a good thing these Paladins didn't seem like wasting their bullets on him.

Not yet, at least.

He then waved his right hand in a dismissive way. "At least they'll be in the frontlines, 'tanking' all those hits for us." He whispered, the optimism coming out of him proved that he was either a delusional ghoul or a really great actor. Marvin never really thought of Power Armors to be something so amazing. After all, they were loud and would take away your locations as soon as you took a step forward. Not to mention the sound when you move into and out of it. It was a pain to deal with though, when the person inside is fully armored. No weak point... aside from the Fusion Core behind their back.

Marvin gave her another shrug and scratched his right cheek, though it was over the cloth that covered it. "Wouldn't want to always be nervous, huh?" He then gestured towards the other medic who was going through his medical supplies frantically, as if he could do anything if he left something important. "Ugh, would be a pain if you went and died on us." He said.

When she started to stretch, he used that opportunity to look around. Swordwind and her companion had gotten out of their Power Armor. Swordwind was... small. Ah whatever. The smaller they are, the closer they are to the Devil after all. Marvin had no intention of pissing this girl off. He made the mistake of teasing someone like that and he was pretty damn sure he would have died if he took it any further.

When Frankie mentioned something about it being yoga, he raised both arms, letting his rifle hang by his side. "Hey, I'm not judging. You do you." He then placed both arms behind his back. "Might be for the best. I kind of like not being punched." He returned the smile. Marvin was a marksman, not an expert CQC fighter so he was pretty sure if she punched him now, his knee-jerk reaction might be the only thing to save him.

But his knee-jerk reactions usually involved shooting. So, probably not for the best.

@Dread
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Monika sat in the corner staring into her locket. She thought about how she had treated Emil, "He didn't know any better. He's only just met me." she thought to herself.

Knowing that she would have to work with these people for the foreseeable she reckoned coming across as a bitch this early on was probably not the right thing to do.

Getting up, she tossed her cigarette away and walked back over to Emil and Bailey. Walking up behind Emil she sighed "Listen, I want to apologise for being a bit of bitch earlier. Bailey is right in her thinking. Me and men don't have the best of history thanks to the legion. But that's not an excuse, we've only just met so you wouldn't have known."

"That doesn't mean I like or trust you. But I doubt being a bitch from moment one will do anything to improve that."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by HamakazeKai
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Bailey gives Emil a subtle, knowing smile. She puts the whetstone back in her bag and her knife back in it's scabbard strapped to her right thigh. "You might meet one one day, But I wouldn't put too much stock in rumours, Sometimes those old Storytellers embellish the facts or see things from a very narrow or... Uninformed point of view."

Bailey glances over at the Brotherhood Paladins with a nervous expression on her face before looking towards the entrance again. "I hope we get instructions from Pariah soon... Being in close proximity to them is making me nervous and Id rather get this over with so I can go home."
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@Cuddles 1438 @HamakazeKai

"Ah, don't worry about it. Bygones are bygones, I'm just glad I didn't do anything to anger you unwittingly." He answered Monika with a friendly smile. He then turns to look at Bailey to reply. "I try to keep an open mind. As the saying goes 'Truth is but only one side of the story.' or something like that." He looks to what Bailey is looking at and voices out his thoughts on the matter as well. "The pariah will give out orders soon enough, I mean why would he gather us here in the first place if he was going to be a no-show?"
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Frankie Cabrera


[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North

Frankie snorted at his last comment, almost throwing herself off balance in the process. “Well, thankfully I was just kidding about that.” She giggled, continuing her routine as she just about folded her body in half, touched her toes, and held it there. “I mean, sure I might be limber and somewhat agile...” Her body rose up slowly as she inhaled deeply and then stood up straight again, a smirk showing across her face. “But does it look like I can pack much of a punch?” She laughed again. It was good to laugh, since she rarely had the opportunity to anymore. “But, I wasn’t tossed into this group for my combat prowess, that’s for damn sure.”

Once again, her attention swept over toward where the Brotherhood group was congregating, and not sure how she’d missed it, but the woman who was once inside the belly of that behemoth machine was now standing next to the empty shell. “Wow, so I’m not the only short chick here.” Frankie whispered with a grin, noticing quite a height difference in the female soldier, relative to the others around her. Even the battle armor suit seemed to tower over her like a looming sentinel. The girl had to admit that she felt a tad bit envious however, not so much because of the heavy gear the B-O-S personnel toted around with them, but the camaraderie. It was something that she’d missed terribly after being taken from her home and a community she adored, and if anything could be derived from being with a group of raiders for a period of time, it was there lack of fellowship and trust. If anything, they seemed to have no problem throttling someone in their sleep if it meant one less mouth to feed or a possibility they would be betrayed.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad...” Frankie sighed as she turned her attention back to the tall ghoul. She hated to think of him as such, considering even in the short amount of time they’d spoken, he seemed more lively than many other’s she’d come across over the years. With one last stretch of her neck muscles, she pulled up a small milk crate and plopped down, the plastic underneath cracking a bit under the abrupt pressure. “Take a seat if you want.” She finally said , sipping a bit of water from her canteen and pointing toward the empty wooden ammo crates across from her. She was, for the most part, surprised just how quickly she warmed up to Marvin, as she usually stays quiet around other strangers. But, maybe it was the fact that he was as much of an outcast -if not more- as she has been even though he has most likely lived five times over her own lifetime. Which reminded her…

“Ok, so I’m curious.” She finally built up the nerve to ask. “What’s your story? Like, where did you come from? And -if you don’t mind me asking- how old are you?” Her expression was a bit nervousness mixed with intrigue, if there was such a thing, but Frankie loved learning as it was the only way to understand the fallen world around her.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Apocalypse
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Alexis, The Mask

December 3rd, 2286
Fleetwood Subway Station

Interacting with - @Alfhedil


As soon as Khailya moved, Alexis took a step back. Her hand already moved toward her pistol. She survived this long by being cautions. Her fear proved unfounded when Khailya came out of her Power Armor.
She was small in stature but something told Alexis that even unarmored, Khailya was a skilled combatant.

What amazed Alexis was the cybernetic implants that Khailya had. She was the first person that she met that wasn't part of the Institute and had cybernetic implants. She stood there analyzing Khailya while she talked and noticed something about her. Second grade implants. Pre-War copies or adapted tech. Low grade. Shoulder, leg, probably one of the arms too if Alexis would have to guess.

" Tall tales, that's what all famous people say. I had a...friend that watched one of your fights. You are a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Maybe..." she paused a moment and pointed toward one of her arms. " Because of those? " she let the question stand while removing one of her left glove to show Khailya her metallic hand.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Lord Wyron
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John Delaware

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Apocalypse, @Polaris North, @Dread

For awhile, John didn't speak to anyone else in the tunnel, choosing to keep to his own affairs. To some, he may have looked the part of the scoundrel, mysterious and exciting. But to others, he would have seemed himself: an embittered man, weathered and worn away by the Wasteland like the sea against a stone. Didn't matter much what others thought of him. He learned that a long time ago.

Soon, however, smoking began to lose its appeal to him; the brief wave of relief long-since dissipated, leaving him smoking now out of habit more than anything else. Disgustedly, he flicked the still-lit cigarette butt to the ground, casually grinding it out with the sole of his shoe. With still no sign of the Pariah, and tensions beginning to flare up from within the group's ranks, John knew with certainty that things would get messy if they didn't start moving soon. Groups like these, united only by common goal, were slow-to-trust and slower to cooperate. Indeed, the Pariah was not a discriminating recruiter: a varied company carried the benefit of wide-spread skills and abilities, with the downside of equally wide-spread suspicion and mistrust.

Some of these recruits, like the Talon mercs, were rabid dogs chained to rotting ropes. They wanted to kill, to maim. They couldn't be bargained with, only coerced or forced. Even some of the more mild-looking members, like the Ghoul in the hooded coat, seemed ready to raise his rifle at the drop of a dime.

Saving his thoughts for the road, it was when John looked up from disposing the cigarette that he saw it: the hand-signal. It took him a moment-or-two to process what he was seeing, but his bewilderment soon turned to indignation; he knew the prospect of a free-roam mission was too good to be true. Even without X3's involvement, he couldn't escape the Institute's all-seeing-eye. He had figured the Mask to be a deserter, a renegade. But everyone returns to the fold in the end.

They could take it all from him, but he was still a rebel in mind. They couldn't steal his thoughts - not yet, at least.

Scoffing once, a noise that would have sounded more like a sharp cough, John jammed both hands in the pockets of his still-damp coat, pushing himself off the wall to pace about the tunnel, his feet beginning to ache from standing still. Fixing the brim of his hat to keep the candlelight from his eyes, John kept a close, wary eye on anyone he spotted in the vicinity. Some of the adventurers, like him, minded their business, hardly looking up or around them, preferring to check their gear or clean their weapons. Others still chose to interact with each other, whether just to pass the time or with genuine intention to make friends.

The Mask sought out the Brotherhood Paladins, her behavior almost contradictory given not only her choice of words, but the way she spoke them. It was trying to goad a response without intention to offend. Such behavior perplexed John. It would require more observation to determine whether this was a psychological tactic, or simply the way she spoke. He made a mental note in his mind to keep a closer eye. Indeed, both the Mask and the Paladin called Stormwind seemed to share his suspicion, as both women kept a hand either on, or not-too-far from their weapons, a soldier's habit, usually.

It was when the Stormwind emerged from her Power Armor that John's aloof expression flickered briefly to surprise. The Power Armor had increased the woman's height and bulk substantially, making the truth all-the-more anticlimactic. He was taller than her by a head at least, and her physique seemed ill-suited to face the horrors of the Wasteland head-on. Still, John knew better than to underestimate a Brotherhood Paladin based on looks alone. Even outside their impenetrable Power Armor, these were men and women who would regularly face down Super Mutants in direct combat, something that he would think twice about before doing.

Farther from the Paladins, three of the mercenaries were discussing...something (John paid little attention, himself), and noticed a general sense of unease from the trio. It was apparent none of them had spoken before now, and the awkwardness of new conversation was making itself known. Two of the mercenaries, both women, seemed generally ill at ease in the present company, but for different reasons. The woman on the bench eyed the Paladins warily, almost obsessively, while the other who moved from the corner to the bench seemed more off-put by the male mercenary's presence, as to why, John couldn't ascertain. Maybe a flirtatious remark gone sour? John had made one-or-two of those in his lifetime. Or maybe something else.

Even farther still from the trio, the Ghoul in the coat was speaking to one of the medics. She was small, petite, possibly underfed, but who wasn't, and seemed to want to stay as out-of-sight as possible. Still, her body language seemed friendly, if almost surreal given that she was practicing what John could only call 'stretching' while speaking to the Ghoul.

John, without thinking, moved closer to the duo, if only to find himself out of the Paladins (and the Mask's) sight. He knew any conversation she wanted to have relating to the...business, would be inevitable, but he wasn't looking forward to it. Not here, not now. Cursing X3 under his breath, John, both hands still in his coat-pockets, listened closely as the young medic asked for the Ghoul's story. Someone who cared about history...it was interesting. And the Ghouls may as well have been living chronicles, with more than a few going back to the Pre-War times. John, in that moment, felt an odd, painful pang in his chest, the tugging of emotion at things long lost.

His expression, an awful blend of discontent yearning, choked down whatever dark thoughts threatened to creep in his head, letting out maybe a too-loud, too-heavy sigh to be subtle.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by ASDAValueMilk
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After having apologised for being a bitch to Emil, Monika squated back down where she was before she had walked off. Looking up at Emil with an inquisitive look "So judging by the accent and you having prior knowledge of the Legion you must be from my Area. You wouldn't have happened to mix with the Legion would you?" she said putting her hand on the handle of her Machete.
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Emil's eyes widen slightly at the accusation, and even though the friendly smile wavered slightly but the warmth behind his eyes never left Emil's face as he turns to speak with Monika. "Ah, God above no. I'm from Oregon and been living in NCR territories in the past five years." He scoffs a little before continuing. "Closest thing I got with 'mixing' with the Legion is hearing stories and rumors. I don't think I would get the chance though, apparently after the death of Caesar and the defeat at Hoover dam, the legion dissipated and crumbled into small warring tribes a couple years after. I mean, without the leadership of Caesar nor that legate o his, the legion was bound to die." He then lets out a light chuckle. "No tears shed from me though, only thing I feel bad about is that I wasn't able to put away any of them."
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"That's good." She says, leaning back and sitting down properly she takes her hand off of the machete handle. She could tell Emil was being genuine which made him one of the few in recent years to be so.

"I've got scars, bruises and bad memories saved for any Legion member I come across." she said gesturing to pretty much her whole body.

Gesturing to the picture strapped to her helmet by a few rubber bands."The only good thing to come out of that shithole was him."

The look on her face changed to a more relaxed look yet still a few tears came from her eyes which she quickly wiped away."Sorry, the tears don't help me maintain a tough persona very well do they." she said with a little chuckle.
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