[color=lightgray][CENTER]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [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 [/cell][cell] [right][img]https://i.ibb.co/Kj2PJmD/Mugsy-in-the-rain.jpg[/img][/right] [/cell][/row][/table][CENTER]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][/color] Alexander continued to breath heavily, in and out with determined motions of his chest - A chest that carried a ton of weight, picked up over many years of living through the bullshit he'd been through. So much shit that it as enough for twice his lifetime, and yet he was still very much living his current one. Alexander breathed out one last time, not noticing Manny making his way up the stairs and joining their little confession. The black mass throwing itself against the barriers of sandbags, jungle logs and pre-fabricated bunkers he'd put up around his little HQ of mental stability, it had grown stronger over the past two weeks. On the other hands, perhaps his defences had been neglected, or simply worn out over time in safety. Regardless, Alexander was growing tired of carrying the troubled past all alone. All the things he'd experienced; all the things he'd done himself. [color=662d91]"I don't…well maybe I do know how to tell you, Freedman. It is because…"[/color] Alexander fought to formulate the monsoon of thoughts and experiences crashing into eachother in his head. He stuttered, closing his mouth for a moment and biting down hard. The old Mugsy would have let it simply ebb out into nothing, before standing up and going to do some other shit. Beatrice would have supported his silence, while Thalia and Thana would have respected it. Sergeant Jackson would have demanded it, but Judith…No. She wouldn't. [color=662d91]"You probably know that Aeron…The General, I mean. We both fought in 'Nam back in our youths. I…I don't really know how to give it square to you, just that…"[/color] Alexander punched himself mentally, forcing back a trail of tears from escaping the iron shutters that were his eyes. He continued his confession. [color=662d91]"I can't forgive myself because…because…"[/color] Alexander was thrown back to a certain place at a certain time, or were it a culmination of many different scenes into one? Because to him it looked like Eden, the hellscape they had infiltrated and wrecked havoc at, except for the people they were fighting. They looked different, very different, enemies from a different time and place. Alexander was armed with the Coll 1911 .45 ACP, aiming it at what he thought was a Eden asswipe laying dying on the floor. It had to be, because if not, it as someone completely different, but who suffered the same fate. Pulling the trigger, the man was dead, calling out a name. His name. [color=662d91]"Because what I did caused so much pain, so much suffering to the very children of God, and…What I had to do later, I don't regret. That is why I can't forgive myself. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord."[/color] Alexander failed to hold back a pair of years, flowing so gently down his cheeks as he said those words, not finally seeing and hearing Manny talk to the two of them. Feebly Alexander wiped those tears from his face and straightened himself, looking between Freedman and his very good friend. [color=662d91]"It was a war nobody with their right mind thought as just. Those who did had no idea what bullshit it was. Didn't even Court Martial me...hypocrits."[/color] Alexander said, and with that stood up and began to walk away. He had to be for himself for a while now. "[i]I see a red door, and I want it painted black. No colours anymore, I want them to turn black…[/i]" [color=lightgray][CENTER]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [h3][color=B8860B][i][b]Nigel Cooper[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=B8860B]Location:[/color][/b][/i] [i]Following Volt[/i] -> Gymnasium (K7) [i][b][color=B8860B]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A [/cell][cell] [right][img]https://i.ibb.co/kmpyfSY/ezgif-com-resize.gif[/img][/right] [/cell][/row][/table][CENTER]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][/color] Back to reality so to say, or back into the rain to be more specific. After having just come out of the pouring Gulf of Mexico-rain, it was back to jogging through and in-between the falling drops of warm rain Nigel had just escaped from. Nigel though to himself that he better just get used to it. After all, he was growing more and more fond of staying in CMB, especially now that he was making companionships with different members of the Floridian-Military civilization; Thana, Thalia, Joaquin and others. Now to prove his worth, with steel or fists. Nigel was given his answer as they pulled up to the Gymnasium, nodding in understanding as he mentally attempted to bring forth his knowledge of the arts of martial fighting. Just their bodies, like Greek Pankration of the Olympics, of which Nigel had limited skills. He was a swordsman, not a brawler for Mars' sake! [color=#B8860B]"No weapons, got it. I'll prepare myself mentally to face the iron fist of our local Amazon then."[/color] The Gymnasium was as good as one could expect in the event of the world ending, so Nigel was in no position to complain about its state. Warm, but dry. They were going to sweat either way, so why bother? Nigel duly noted Volts' words and followed after him into the men's lockers, giving Thalia a look of "Let's get this fight done." It didn't take long for Nigel to follow suit after Volts and Medic, wringing off his clothes and revealing a worn but well-kept body of a warrior, some scars and muscle visible to those looking. Changing into the new clohes, he sighed audibly at what he should have expected. Sportacus, the name he did not chose, yet was haunted by. Was this his curse? [color=#B8860B]"Well…It is a long story."[/color] Nigel would have preferred to not answer, but where would he go? That question would haunt him for as long as he ignored it, and at this rate it had clearly spread to the whole of the Camp. There was no escaping. [color=#B8860B]"Two of the survivors I came in with, Wayne and Hank, decided it was a funny jest to call me after a cartoon character. I'd prefer Spartacus, a real historical figure, but I assume that galley is long gone now. I used to go by Hadrian, but…Oh it matters not."[/color]