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[h3][color=662d91][i][b]Alexander Polawski[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b][/i] The Bus (Q6) Outside CMB -> Graveyard
[i][b][color=662d91]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/BBfr494/Mugsy-1.jpg[/img][/right]
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	Whatever the conversations had been going on in front, behind and around him, Alexander had only slowly drifted back to the same realm as they existed in. A slideshow of images had passed before him and his tired eyes, thankfully in little-to-no need for glasses even for his age. It made him wonder, what were the role of…those guys who dealt in glasses? Their professional title eluded him like the faulty wire of a broken tv from the mid-1980's, he'd tried to fix too many of those in his lifetime. The silver lining was perhaps that all those hours cursing at the cheap electronics just might pay off those days.

	The images that had kept Alexander occupied faded away alongside the scenery, seeing the bus drive away from the camp and somewhere away. The Graveyard. Back in his own reality, Alexander breathed in deep and straightened himself in his seat, turning to look at the others inside the bus. The guards - presuming they were the ones needing guarding - exfiltrated the bus. The Padre, Bass and Joaquin, making their way to open the heavy-set gate and guiding the bus inside. They were finally there, the slumbering fields of those passed and dearly missed. 

	Alexander wasn't sure what he had expected the Graveyard to look like. One word stuck out, one which could and had been used in his mind in his time there at CMB: Normal. Just like from the newspaper writing about wacky crimes in Florida, or even the page from a school book about the South. Alexander leaned towards the window, taking in the sight as Daytona instructed them to file out and stay close. Close marching formation. 

	The old veteran gripped the stock of his newly-leant double-barreled shotgun, letting the two young ladies Amelia and Riley get up and out first. While he wasn't expecting them to come under heavy machine gun fire as soon as they stepped out of the bus, Alexander wasn't prepared to feel a wall of humid heat strike him across his wrinkled face. It was as if he was hit by a Caribbean wave somewhere east of the Florida coast, forcing ol' Mugsy to use his one free hand to wipe off his face and give his eyes shade. Okay, perhaps glasses were something he'd have some use for, at least sunglasses. 

	Alexander, now standing outside the bus and next to Amelia, turned quickly to look at her and give her a brief smile. [color=662d91]"Hey dear, it's gonna be okay. We'll stick together, be safe."[/color] He told her in an attempt to sound reassuring, while his own thoughts again wandered to scenes the Graveyard reminded him off. The gravestones looked the same and a similar heavy cloud hung over him like it had done back when he came home from the war. For a moment he swore he could see his father and mother's graves somewhere hidded behind a tree, but the lack of rain and cold reminded him of where he truly was. 

	This would have been a nice place to put her to rest.

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[h3][color=B8860B][i][b]Nigel Cooper[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=B8860B]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Streets of CMB (P6) -> Hydroponic Garden (T)
[i][b][color=B8860B]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/LrnKm2S/Nigel-Hadrian-1.jpg[/img][/right]
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	Not until he outranked her. Ah yes, the classical Platonic philosophy of class structures, reinforcing the thought that power remains in the hands of those wise enough to lead. Nigel shook his head with a smirk on his face, almost tempted to give Thana a salute and a "Yes ma'am", though he thought best not to impersonate a military personal. He couldn't fault their way of structuring the hierarchy of Camp Mexico Beach, and so it made sense for him to still be ranked under Thana. The master standing over the slave, but like Thana probably needed him still, the master was nothing without his slaves. 

	Nigel fanned himself with the palm of his hand, following Thana the grueling journey back to the Gardens through the lumbering heat of Apollo and his sun. He longed to get back into the cool waters of the Gulf of Mexico, they hadn't been able to finish harvesting everything just yet. Following Thana, their first stop appeared to be the Greenhouse again. Waiting for her to answer his question, he watched her open the door and witnessing Thana curse the dreaded heat from inside. [color=#B8860B]"No arguing about that. Felt like the forges of Mars in there."[/color] Nigel replied idly, continuing to fan himself and wipe the sweat off his face, looking forward to getting the done over with sooner rather than later. Hopefully he would get used to it…someday…hopefully.

	[color=#B8860B]"Wait…other settlements?"[/color] Nigel had to repeat after Thana, briefly halting his futile efforts to produce a western wind to cool his body. He had expected to talk about the prospects of scavenging and such, but trading? With other human settlements of civilised peoples? It might not have registered with him earlier if anyone had mentioned other centers of human habitation, but it sure stuck to him now. That and the mention of toilet paper, by the gods did he miss a soft roll of clear toilet paper. [color=#B8860B]"So these other settlements, they're not part of your civili…I mean, they're not part of Camp Mexico Beach? Sorry I sound surprised, but I am. I've spent so much time alone. Suddenly in the span of a few months, I've not only joined one settlement, but now there's others?"[/color]