[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.ibb.co/ZmMvcJf/ezgif-1-0ebdc48094d3.jpg[/img]
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[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b] Camp Mexico Beach: H6 Quarantine (Conference Room) 
[color=662d91][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A[/center][hr][hr]

It felt good to be accepted around the table as Thalia gave her fellow amputee permission to sit with them. He wasn't and would never force himself into their company, but he did miss talking to them a bit. Especially Beatrice, or perhaps more fitting the time they spent together without uttering a single word. Was that true friendship? Just sitting the two of you in a room, in a car or out walking in the autumn breeze, in total silence? It was moments like those he enjoyed most spending with Judith after all, so perhaps yes? Giving Beatrice a soft smile, Alexander returned the greeting. [color=662d91]"Morning, Bea."[/color] 

To Thalia, Alexander only shook his head and grinned, grabbing his side of the table and getting started with his breakfast. It was simple, fitting a man of his age and religion, as he quickly whispered a prayer to the Big Man up above. If this was his last day here, he was going to enjoy it in a simple way. He wasn't a rowdy youngster anymore, as the General had reminded him, but age brought joy to the smaller things. Like this. Like a normal family dinner, he missed those…really. 

The Spanish flew past the ol' Veteran faster than a Huey evac'ing the wounded, but he caught into the latter part of the conversation. Arrested? Alexander had to chuckle at the thought of Thalia being arrested. It was probably true, she was one firery Angel after all. Was this how Manny had been in his youth, like he told earlier? Maybe. Alexander would probably have still liked him back then, even if his younger self was a very different kid. [color=662d91]"Never arrested me either, only pulled over by a rookie cop or sent home as a youngster. It was a different time, the 60's and 70's you know? Could you imagine me with long hair?"[/color]  

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#B8860B]Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper[/color][/h1]
[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/a1cc83e9b2978d2fdac2dbf75331a3c0/tumblr_o0v5arjK7b1rt41dxo1_400.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]

Sitting by himself was perhaps not such a bad move after all, as Nigel got a few moments to enjoy his breakfast in peace. Erica was clearly engaged in conversation with the two women and the old guy, and Nigel knew better than to waltz in and interrupt whatever they were talking about. He'd walked in on far too many conversations between his students to know that asking "So what are you talking about?" was a more solid way to sink the conversation than Greek fire. Still, Nigel sent the occational glanze over to Erica, just in time to catch her smile and nod to him. Smiling back at her, Nigel also nodded, as if in silent code telling her that he saw her and hoped she was doing okay. He really did, as she was by far the nicest person he'd spent time with in the Afterworld. 

It was about this time that his Roman defensive fort on the banks of the Rhine was reenforced by Hunter, like his usual self clutching a cup of coffee as he spoke to Nigel. [color=#B8860B]"The big day, capital T."[/color] Nigel idly replied back to the young soldier, noticing the lack of eye-contact but putting it down to Hunter's usual self. He had a long way to go, but Nigel thought he was making progress, so he would give young Hunter a little faith. [color=#B8860B]"If not politely, then they will ask. They've been quite up-front with us from the start, I think, and nobody's waved their guns at us yet. If they're a civilized, if militarized society, they'll ask. Even Rome used diplomacy, you know."[/color] 

Nigel took his own sip of his coffee, briefly looking at Hunter before letting his eyes wander around the room like so many times before. He hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst to come. As long as he'd be reunited with his gladius and other equiptment, Nigel would be fine. One way or another. Nigel "Hadrian" turned back to Hunter, continuing the conversation. [color=#B8860B]"Don't worry, Hunter, it will all turn out okay somehow. Dum vita est, spes est."[/color] Nigel really hoped so himself. If anything, he was more afraid of being alone than anything else. His new-found companionship with the others had re-ignited the social side of him, after so long in isolation. Was this the same thought-process Hunter was going through? [color=#B8860B]"Say, Hunter, want to learn how to forge your own sword?"[/color] Perhaps Hunter would enjoy his ramblings about Rome as much as Erica had?

He just wished he could continue to ramble on to Erica about that. Who else would listen to him?