[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.ibb.co/T8Hyy40/ezgif-com-resize-1.jpg[/img]
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[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b] Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
[color=662d91][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A[/center][hr][hr]

Alexander continued his attempt at not acting up after Wayne's assesment of him, the attempt  being somewhat success now that storm was blowing past and the rain letting up. No more screaming or shouting, no more loud-mouthed theatrics of a man clearly off his rockers, only a room filled with exhausted survivors and two guards. One of them clearly didn't think too highly of them, the other so too but a whole lot quieter. It was during Panama's harsh words that Alexander realized he had spilled on himself, making the old veteran attempt to clean it up with his sleeve. If not, perhaps he would have appeared as useless as Panama made him out to be.  And he had promised Auntie not to make such a mess of himself. 

But those words, that they must have had it easy? Sadly not the first time Alexander had been told that, yet it still hurt the old man, if not as harsly as before. When he and his kind came back from the war, what most people seemed to cling onto was what the soldiers had done over there. The shooting, killing, dying, endless manouvering in an infinite hellscape of green. Like those students who surrounded him at the library. Very few asked them how they felt. They must have thought that because they went over there at all, they got used to it. That it was easy. Far from it, and now those same words made the cycle whole again. But Alexander, forever the Grunt, gritted his teeth and swallowed the anger of a young man, doing his best to breath as Tatiana had instructed him to earlier. 

Alexander didn't want to think about that anymore, and looking across the room at the other groups of people tending to their own. Ash with what he now thought of the 'original' group, the smaller one with the maniac, and Beatrice and Hunter now halting the hostilies for now. Did Alexander blame him for his outburst? He sure as day didn't like it, but who knew what he'd been through, so perhaps the old veteran could understand? Finally Alexander looked up at Manny as he came and sat down with them, giving his fellow Baby Boomer a half-forced, half-tired smile. [color=662d91]"I'll be fine, don't you worry about me, Manny. I'm just glad to finally have a good place to sit, and this one sure beats the Chicago night-bus. Are you okay?"[/color] Alexander answered the old dentist-turned-medic, quickly turning the question back to Manny as he leaned back in his chair, trying to relax too. 

[color=662d91]"So we're talking more like Michael or Kushiel then? Either way, you're stuck being the regular one to me."[/color] Alexander said with less of a forced smile to his fellow cripple, chuckling quietly. [color=662d91]"Damn right. I got your back."[/color] Old Mugsy responded briefly to her, sighing quietly again. She was right, they had to stick together in these troubling times. Safe from the Undead, but not safe from others, not yet. Alexander nodded to her assesment of Wayne and his outburst, glad that she brought some positive thoughts to his earlier fears. If Wayne made an ass out of himself, that meant Alexander could remain under the radar. He had been good at that back when you'd wish some great apocalypse swept away the crowded streets of Chicago. Well, he got better at it. 

Alexander continued to calm himself down while seated, still shaking ever so slightly with his hands as he took a small sip of his coffee, taking another look at the room. That's when he noticed Ash talking with Beatrice, wondering what they were actually talking about.  Alexander looked between Thalia and Manny, as if to ask if they knew. Out of badly mixed bag of people that were in the quarantine, the old veteran found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe Ash would understand him? 

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#B8860B]Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper[/color][/h1]
[img]http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/22900000/Lucius-Vorenus-rome-22923240-350-215.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=#B8860B]Location:[/color][/b] Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
[color=#B8860B][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

So that's what they were thinking back of them? After Wayne had been done with his character descriptions of the whole Greek cast, it was Panama's turn to cast his judgement upon them. Like a Roman Patrician of good family and stock viewing a gladiatorial game for what must have been the hundreth time, he had the guts to insinuate that they had had it easy before they got there. Nigel could only give Panama and Major a very brief look of annoyance, even something akin to spite at their words, but he remained silent. For now. At one hand this group had been protected by their walls and fared much better than Nigel "Hadrian" and his own people, so in his mind they had had it anything but "easy". Tall walls make soft men, and vice versa. Then again, was this how Nigel himself had thought when he was in their old settlement?  Perhaps that was partly why Nigel "Hadrian" kept silent, even in annoyance. Partly he was getting tired of it all, and partly he was determined to prove them wrong. 

Nigel "Hadrian" looked away from their two guards and over at Beatrice and Hunter, watching as the embodiment of Boudica let go of her prisoner and Hunter go get more coffee after his defeat. For now the confrontation looked as if it had cooled down enough for them to be left alone, which at the moment was good enough for Nigel. He was still uncertain of what to think of these people, and making friends and allies wasn't always easy in a world ruled by the sword. Nigel looked at Wayne as he repeated his own question, the reminder that they would be sharing rooms with for their stay in quarantine put back into his mind. On top of that list were the grumpy duo of old men and Hunter, but the others he didn't know what to think. 

But his earlier thought of a force-ruled world was reintroduced to him with Hank's now famous sarcasm, and quite seriously on the condecending side of the spectrum. Nigel shot daggers at Hank with his eyes, turning his head from looking at him and over to Erica for support in his verbal flogging. At this point Nigel shouldn't be surprised at how Hank managed to find new ways of getting on his nerves, every time exploring new paths of a labyrinth of wits and jabber, this time finding the creativity to attempt bringing in more soldiers to the breached. Nigel switched looking at Hank with his now accustomed look of "I'm getting tired of your shit, Hank", and only listening to him while looking away. It was a miracle that he wasn't jabbing back at the Shovel Knight with his own tactics, or it was by sheer willpower and experience from his teaching years. 

The worst part of it all? Hank was sounding a whole lot like Nigel himself when he met Robert. The good sameritan met by the ruthless Roman soldier, each on different paths on their way to survival. One with good intentions, the other with a good sword. What would Robert have done in this situation? In his situation. Then it was the point that Hank, once again to his great and utter surprise, wasn't completely wrong. The world outside those protective walls was indeed ruled by pure force. Rome was built upon the labours of soldiers, makers and experts of war. Still, pure force could only keep a empire together for so long without the power of words. 

[color=#B8860B]"Perhaps...perhaps."[/color] Nigel "Hadrian" answered Hank in short after a while of contenplative silence, before looking up at him again with a small smile on his face. [color=#B8860B]"It's a nice change to hear you say something good about us for once."[/color] he added, shaking his head at the words he said, never having thought he'd utter them. Perhaps Hank too wasn't so bad? Some day Nigel might say something nice back. At least until he mentioned him by his 'favourite' name, that was. [color=#B8860B]"I'll take you up on that offer, as long as I don't have to actually pay attention to...whatever that is."[/color] Nigel "Hadrian" said back to his offer, rising up from his seat and giving Erica quick look. [color=#B8860B]"I'll be right back"[/color] 

Nigel then made his way over to where the VHS tapes were stored, his eyes scanning far and wide  at the wide variety of films at their disposal. He didn't have anything particular in mind that he wanted to watch, except action or horror. He was tired, and perhaps Hank was right in that he needed to lighten up. They had a long week in front of them, and so he looked for something light-hearted to watch, finally finding some good ones. Some 80's movies, John Hughes, MASH. In the end Nigel pulled out the one he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. Making his way back to his own group, he sat down beside Erica and took the time to read at the back of the VHS. [color=#B8860B]"The Princess Bride. Now this brings back memories. Have you seen it?"[/color]