[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.giphy.com/media/TmVhZ9LAYwUrm/giphy.webp[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b]Eden: Elev Equip --> Addam's Wing
[color=662d91]Skills: [/color]Rifle[/center][hr][hr]

Alexander appeared to react last to the commotion and gunshot last of the newly-formed trio, feeling the same fist of dark matter clutch tight in his stomach that had taken hold of him when Thana got shot, Gavin died, Lola died, and too many more to mention. To many it might have been odd to feel this kind of attachment to people he'd known just a few hours, but time didn't matter like that to a soldier. You took care of, trusted and protected the guy beside you in a firefight, no matter if he was a greenie or your bestfriend from downtown Chicago. The same applied to the group of misfits in what used to be Eden, now to become a ruin like it deserved. 

The tragedy of the situation shrank upon hearing Thalia's voice, watching Manny's rookie-breath (throwing-up) and hearing Thana speak. Was it over, like Manny suggested? Probably not. The battle, or war if they even that lucky might be over, but there were always other hostiles to fight. Other enemies that need be taken out. Alexander had lived through the Cold War, Vietnam, various banana-republics, the two Gulf Wars and the war on terror, just to name a few. Finding enemies was easy. Finding allies was hard. But for now, the battle might be over. 

Alexander turned his attention back to the weapons stash he had already searched, but payed closer attention as he began to search through it again. The creaking and breaking of wood he heard was a clear indicator of what was to follow, and it wasn't good. The big ass hole was probably putting enough strain on the whole building by itself, not to mention the little Hell the TANK had raised already. So who knew how long the building was going to be left standing? Alexander searched throught the stash, checking for any signs of 5.56 that would fit the AR-15. This felt all too familiar. Too familiar for comfort. At first he didn't find anything, but behind a case of spagettios - not the brand he liked anyway - he found them. Two boxes of 5.56mm rifle, intact too. Alexander shoved both boxes into the bug-out bag, before making his way to the rest of the trio pluss two. [color=662d91]"The big ass hole cut of our entry point. Any other way out of his hellhole?"[/color]

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#B8860B]Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper[/color][/h1]
[img]https://marisollang.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/2-ctzznry.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=#B8860B]Location:[/color][/b] Okefenokee: E14
[color=#B8860B]Skills: [/color]Survival, Stealth, Sword Fighting[/center][hr][hr]

[color=#B8860B]"Deorum mihi vires..."[/color] Nigel muttered under his breath as he and Robert continued down the road, heading towards the main road where the truck was coming down. It wasn't that he had anything against people of faith. In-fact he had plently of friends who were religious back in the day before the world went to Hell, but the thing that got to him was the overly-zealous attide he got of Robert. Having a purpose and helping everyone they might run into? Perhaps it was apocalypse that had hardened Hadrian, but being cautious was his preferred approach. 

[color=#B8860B]"Right now I understand that there's people down that road, some who might be friendly for all we know, and equally hostile. That's how I understand it. Vigilance and alterness is key, Robert."[/color] Nigel continued to say as he prepared his gladius again, this time directed towards the one walker which took notice of him and Robert. [color=#B8860B]"Quick, we need to get closer before we..."[/color] was all he managed to say before the unexpected happened; as Nigel took a step forward to meet the walker half-way, getting ready to intercept the grappling and stabbing it between its eyes, he met a far more dangerous and cruel enemy. 

His own two feet. 

Nigel, the usually disciplined Roman soldier fell flat on his face, landing hard on the road they had been going down. It was as if Fortuna herself laughed Nigel straight in the face as he lay there, sword sliding away from his a good 15 fifteen feet way from him and all the contents from his previously carefully packed satchles now littering the road. This was bad. It was worse than bad; it was shameful and not fitting any true Roman, certainly not Nigel or Hadrian, whatever you called him. Looking up from lying flat on his stomach, Nigel could no nothing but sigh and look to Robert, shame in his face. [color=#B8860B]"Well shit..."[/color]