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[h3][color=662d91][i][b]Alexander Polawski[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Chapel (V)
[i][b][color=662d91]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	Before the world had ended abruptly into an inferno of shit hitting the fan and just the worst of days turned up to 11, Alexander had gone to church on a regular basis. Regular, as in at least four times a year; Christmas, Easter, the anniversery of his father's death and once when Judith wanted to visit. More often than not he'd sit there more than those times, but he wasn't really attending. More than anything he was sitting in the back row, silently for himself as he tried to hear. Not the sermon up front, but a higher voice in the background. He never heard it, though sometimes he made himseld believe he'd felt it. 

	After the end of the world those visits had been reserved for only taking shelter in a church tower or something. It was only recently that he'd found the presence of God again, and still only in the sense of believing in his existance, yet without feeling Him. Attending the church services with Atticus had given him new vigour. Still, going to the Chapel made the barriers he'd constructed while out There come down, plank by blank, stone by stone. 

	Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen. 

	Alexander stood in the opening of the Chapel for a good solid minute, hearing the voices of Bass and Freeman up from the second floor, but not hearing their actual words. Old habit of blocking out what other people said in church, people spoke of private matters there after all. He wasn't the older mother of an Italian New York family after all. He didn't notice Manny entering either, having stepped further into the Chapel as Freeman spoke to him from the second floor banister. A smile forced itself onto Alexander's face, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. [color=662d91]"Well I had planned on speaking with neither. The Lord is probably occupied with forgiving me for all my bullshit…and I usually speak with Atticus, but…"[/color] 

	Alexander sighed, falling into deep thought with his eyes staring empty before him, as if contemplating his recent words. Sighing again, Alexander looked up to Freeman once more and gave himself up. [color=662d91]"But I suppose you'd like to hear my old musings. At least you answer. I'll come up, if you don't mind?"[/color] Alexander said up to Freeman, finding his way to the stairs and making his way up to the second floor. Traversing the stairs with the pegleg was harder than normal walking, but with a little effort and puffing, Alexander found his way upstars. [color=662d91]"Good morning, Freeman. I see today's court martial has caused quite the chance in schedule in the Camp. Can't be an entertaining change of pace, can it? At least I don't think so…"[/color] 

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[h3][color=B8860B][i][b]Nigel Cooper[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=B8860B]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Quarantine (W)
[i][b][color=B8860B]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	The room had been more occupied than Nigel had expected to be honest, now that his recent introduction into the room had given his eyes ample time to actually search for who were present there. Beside Ash and Thalia, whom he had directed his greetings to, he now saw several other residents of CMB and some not-so-long citizens of that military society - Most importantly Wayne and the child sitting on his lap. Again Nigel looked upon the scene with the usually psychotic Wayne, not docile as a lamb while he was baby-sitting, feeling whoever had written this drama had strange plans for them all. Or perhaps he had been wrong about Wayne after all?

	Nigel gave Wayne a brief wave, greeting his old 'friend' if he could be called that, before turning back to the others most relevant to his presence in Quarantine now. Ash and Thalia, and Volts and Medic. It was apparent that Ash had the same idea as Nigel, settling down for an activity in order to clear his thoughts before the exercise of the law later that day. [color=#B8860B]"Good, I thought the same. We're all going to need a clear mind if we're to be questioned; Da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius."[/color] Nigel responded in what felt like a rehearsed line, the outcome far more theatric than the intention had been. Though this he meant, for he would do his best to present the facts and nothing more. From experience he had learned to keep his emotions out of important decisions, however difficult it had been. 

	Like how he'd refused to leave Robert dead on the road at first, at least until he was certain the man was truly gone to the afterlife. However pious and trusting the man had been, he had been a good man. 

	It was at this point Thalia had accepted his proposal for a duel, though she had raised a fair point; with what? Fists and pool cues? The unintended sight of her unbuttoning her shirt gave Nigel an akward moment of embarrasment…Nigel averted his eyes briefly, looking up at Volts as he offered them to use the gym. [color=#B8860B]"Perhaps…perhaps next time then, Thalia."[/color] Nigel answered her, then looking over to Medic and his wish to spar. Nigel wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or…something else. But he wasn't about to turn town a chance for some good melee. 

	[color=#B8860B]"Good…okay, that's fine by me. Where do you want to duel?"[/color] Nigel asked Medic, stretching his arms in anticepation of finally wielding a weapon again, be it metal or wooden. Thalia checked with Nigel one last time however, reaffirming her wish to duel. The name she called him wasn't half bad either, giving him a reason to smile at her. [color=#B8860B]"Praetorian, eh? I can live with that, you Joyous Poem."[/color]