Status

Recent Statuses

10 days ago
Current @Boss Kermit Tbh, lots of things in European history can be said to have been caused by that piss contest. "I depose you, Pope!" "You can't do that! I depose you, Kaiser!"
2 likes
17 days ago
I'm sorry I broke your heart, I really am...but you're breaking mine when you tell me I don't care and that I'm a horrible person...I'm sorry
1 like
26 days ago
One week's vacation, one I should spend grading papers. And here I am, prepping for an upcoming tabletop campaign. Long live the procrastinator in me!
3 likes
1 mo ago
@NesyExecutive Jammen er du svensk? La oss dra fram ΓΈl, potetmos og kose oss pΓ₯ riksgrensa! SΓΈta bror!
1 like
1 mo ago
@NesyExecutive I like trains.

Bio

-The bio will be added once the profile user can be bothered to finish it. Right now he's probably busy doing nothing and stressed about more. Please come back later. Have a nice day.

Most Recent Posts

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Alexander Polawski
Location: Education Center, Basement (M6) -> (M7) General Housing
Skills: N/A

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Alexander would have a good hand with this that most others would. In a time where complimants were a rare commodity, one that sadly didn't put food on your plate, this was one that warmed Alexander deep inside. Alexander had to pull the side of his mouth into a smile, feeling that pleasent feeling warm his cold, wounded heart in a way only a friend could. He would cherish that feeling for many weeks to come, feeling useful, even more so than others.

He was about to thank Aeron for that compliment, choosing to not linger on what else he said about action being seen unwantedly. Like he had said himself, the war had been hard on not just the two veterans standing in the cool basement, but to countless other lives. Lives neither of them had met and would never meet, not even considering those who's very homes had become the battlefields of a ideological war between two superpowers. As so many words had been written in ink and blood about the war, speeches spoken and movies made, Alexander had no more words to describe it after what he had said; He didn't know if 'Nam or the end of the world was worse.

Alexander looked in honest surprise at Aeron, or more specifically at the key he held out for him. In a military society like the one they had built up in Camp Mexico Beach, to be offered a key was an exercise in trust. Alexander looked at the key for a long moment, unsure of what to say to Aeron before he was to leave him alone. In the end, as Alexander accepted the key and watched Aeron hobble his way out, he only managed to quietly say something along the lines of "Thank you too, Aeron, for everything…This we'll defend."

The room was cool and empty, and for a moment Alexander was too awestruck to even move the smallest muscle. This was a tremendous task for him, not in sense of scale but in honour. Slowly Alexander made his way over to a random stack of boxes, pocketing the key and peaking inside of a box labelled "Uniforms #2." Alexander understood what Aeron meant. This was not just a uniform, they came in different shades and forms according to the period, theatre and branch. Alexander, standing alone and holding up a beige coloured uniform, fought back the urge to let loose the dam of emotions balled up in him.

It was that battle he fought as he locked the basement door behind him, walked out of the Education Center and headed straight home. It was that battle between him and himself that raged on as he went straight to his quarters and made himself ready for bed. Leg popped off, shirt folded neatly on the side and rosary gently placed at his bedside table, he couldn't help but mouth the words in silence. The words that once again haunted him with memories, good or bad. Mostly the latter.

"11th Infantry…Butcher's Brigade…"

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Beaches of CMB (E11) -> (M7) General Housing
Skills: N/A

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Nigel stood around shaking the hands of Dusty and Bass, doing his outmost to commit their names to memory as so many of these callsigns had been thrown around his first week in CMB. Thankfully they were all friendly enough, bantering amongst themselves like Greek cities attending the Olympics in the golden days. While shaking the hand of Dusty, Nigel held back a chuckle as he was told the origin of his name. "I see, and am I too bold to wonder if and when us newcomers would get such names as well? Are we allowed to choose ourselves?" Nigel posed the question, thinking quietly to himself his wishes not to be known as "Sportacus" by the entire camp.

He would prefer "Hadrian", "Romulus" or "Mars", anything but "Sportacus".

The name of Bass came as no surprise to Nigel, the handshake of his measured to his deep voice. Names from what characterized their roles on this grand stage that was the theatre of life. Cheers for cheering while drinking, Dusty for the dust from his work, and Bass from his voice. What then did they see in him? That question would remain unanswered as the banter continued between the three people at the beach, now Nigel included.

"That makes sense, though what is it that you work on then, since you start later than the rest of us? And yes, my first day went quite well…swimmingly, one could say." Nigel answered Bass, attempting to pull of one of those things he was never really good at; puns. When the joke fell flat on the beach like a dead fish, Nigel cleared his throat and continued. "Ehm, I mean, yes I was with Sparrow, Thana today. I suppose she was thankful for my help, what with her leg and all. She impressed me greatly with that Hanging Gardens of Babylon you have. Quite the Wonder. "

Though soon the night drew heavy on Nigel, who bid farewell to Dusty, Cheers and Bass to find his way home. Home, the first time in many years he could call someplace home. Time flew as he walked through the emptied streets of CMB, into his sleeping quarters and onto his bed. Did he say good night to those he passed? In his drousy state, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that today had been a hard, but good day. As he fell asleep, he hoped that tomorrow would be just as good to him, of Fortuna herself allowed it.
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Education Center, Basement (M6)
Skills: N/A

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Alexander diligently kept up Aeron's arguably slow pace down the stairs, making sure not to force up his speed by seeming inpatient. Taking life slow and easy, it had been one of the things marriage taught him. Really, it was Judith who tamed the unruly hound, traumatized from years of abuse and turned into a joyal dog of a friend. With help for sorting his many thoughts, taking a breath and slowing down was possible, and so he took his time with Aeron, a generation his senior, a lifetime older.

"Ah, I see where you're coming from then. Sorted like a quartermaster right out of school, not one baptised in fire yet. I guess the same goes for anyone not experienced. I'll see what I can do to make orderly chaos." Alexander replied to Aeron's predicatment, leaning on the wall with his hand as they made their way down, the wall cool to the touch. Memories of the recent past and a certain incident involving cleaning agent, a hard floor and his butt passed him, but he waved them away in embarrasment. Aeron needed his help, and how much help could he be if he felt sorry for himself?

More than he usually did, of course.

"About Edna, she won't have our heads for up-ending her immaculate system? I hope not, if our work can help teach the kids some valuable lessons about the War…and how they're lucky not to having been there, even all things considered. Even I'm not sure where I'd want to be; 'Nam or here…I'm really not sure, Aeron."

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Outside of Chapel (E10) -> Beaches of CMB (E11)
Skills: N/A

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Nigel wasn't a religious man. Never had been one really, not even in his youth, and even in his self-imposed persona of a Roman legionaire he wasn't serious about talking of the 'Gods'. Jupiter, Apollo, Athena, he believed in none of them, though he found some comfort in invoking their powers of domains. If he'd lived over 2000 years ago, perhaps he'd been more pious? Who knows, there were plenty of atheists back then too. So when he approached the Chapel, he did not do so seeking divine guidance or Olympian strenght.

Perhaps that's what he should have done, he wondered. Robert, the wandering preacher, had invoked the name of God and shown kindness almost unknown to Nigel. Then again he was dead, so what good could God have been for them? Nigel did not known, and it bothered him greatly.

He would have continued in this existantial crisis of the very existence of being, when he heard his own name invoked by an unknown voice. Looking up from his sandy feet, he spotted the source. It was the driver from earlier, the man who'd driven them around the Camp and shown them all the important locations. The name evaded him for the moment, so did the two others standing resting by a bonfire, but they called on him. Nigel looked at them in brief confusion, before raising his hand, waving at them, and approached them.

Perhaps his contemplations in loneliness had born fruit?

Nigel came walking up to the trio of CMB-ers, giving them a friendly wave as he did. "Hey, good evening, all of you. Let me just think for a moment…Cheers I remember, and you two as well, but your names escape me. Dusty was it? Aaand…" Nigel attempted to initiate conversation, failing at remembering the name of Cheers, but putting on a friendly, brave face as he tried not to fall into his old habits of being akward. If he was lonely, only he could fight those waves and brave the sea of being social. "So, what is up? Taking in the scenery as well? In all the realms of Hades I've been through, this truly is a view to live in."

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Alexander Polawski
Location:Outside of Mess Hall, streets of CMB -> Education Center (M6)
Skills: N/A

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While with the thoughts and doubts weighing him down, Alexander did his best to carry them like he had hauled an overly heavy radio strapped to his back on so many patrols in his younger years. It was heavy, yes, but it was a burden he kept on carrying. That wasn't the concern. It was how long he could carry it, and how much he could ignore it while looking at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them. For as Alexander followed Aeron through the streets of CMB, those sights made an impression on the old veteran. The sun setting in its organge glory, children enjoying life to the fullest and...Alexander couldn't put his finger on it.

Somehow he kept on putting on the load, and kept going.

Alexander reached the Education Center still at the side of Aeron, nodding silently to the backstory of their beloved Father Atticus. While he, having told himself this countless times over the last decades, had trouble believing anyone aside from himself and his former brothers in arms could understand, Alexander wanted to believe Aeron's words. A battle priest, soldier of Uncle Sam and sheppard of God. Yes, he wanted to believe that anyone could understand his actions. Understand and forgive. Could God?

"Now that sounds like quite the collection then. If I find an old advertisement for any of my old radio sets or a Ford Granada. Yeah, that's something for the youngsters to be taught. Though I suspect and so I've heard that you teach the new generations far more...'practical' skills these days. Stuff we only learned in Boot Camp." Alexander said to Aeron as they reached the doors of the Education Center, glad to have a topic he could talk about without feeling weighed down by those doubts of his. Inside he gave a friendly wave to those milling about their own business, still following Aeron into this unknown territory.

The library sent old images across Alexander's vision, back to the days he spent time reading books and not hiding from the Undead underneath crumbling bookshelves. Not that he recognized any of the titles, though he wasn't looking for anything special. He was looking forward to what Aeron was going to show him, so the books could wait. "As old and sensitive as us two old geezers then? Sounds like the red-light room Judith kept in the basement of my shop back home. Don't want to ruin what you can keep, right? Has Edna kept the basement as organized as the library then? I thought you said something about needing a new pair of eyes to sort things out.

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Streets of CMB/Beach (M9) -> Outside of Chapel (E10=
Skills: N/A

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The sun was setting, the air was getting gently cooler by the minute, the waves washed up on the shore and...Nigel took in a deep breath, smelling the salty air in his lungs and trying not to feel too much about his current predicament. The world was serene at that moment, the universe in an orderly balance which had not been felt by this relatively large safehaven of humanity for what felt like a lifetime. It was easy to look at and feel like all was all right, and yet Nigel, when stepping onto the sandy shore of CMB, felt immensly insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Insignificant and wandering, lost before the waves of the Gulf of Mexico.

Nigel sighed again, noticing a pair of people further up the coast from him. If his eyes didn't decieve him, it looked like Thana and Ashton, deep in conversation. He had to chuckle to himself quietly, looking away and down at the setting Chariot of Appollo as the realm of night advanced steadily. He turned and started walking in the other direction, heading up the coast towards where he thought they had been shown the Chapel. Why? If Nigel knew for sure, he wasn't sure he would tell you. That feeling that had penetrated his defences earlier remained persistant in his mind.

Nigel sighed once again, keeping a slow but steady pace up the shoreline. Yes, loneliness was a constant companion of Man. Many a piece of poetry had been written about its titanic weight that rested upon the shoulders of even the strongest of Men, and how it could break them down. He himself would not admit it, but he could not escape the truth that ever since Erika, Hell, since he had parted ways with his three friends earlier, he had felt something missing. Or rather, someone.

He probably was not alone in having lost those he cared for, and really they were still around there in Camp Mexico Beach. Yet he did not have the strength to go seek them out. Was it lack of strength, or lack of courage. Cowardice was severely punished in the Roman Legions, but loneliness? What was that? A weakness, or a curse?
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Outside of Mess Hall, streets of CMB
Skills: N/A

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They had more than just one session a week. Alexander wasn't too late and he could ask Atticus for some guidance later that evening. It wasn't too late for him. Alexander felt a strange sensation at Aeron's words, one of both relief, yet one laced with the heavy weight of responsibility too. Sometimes the old veteran did not understand himself, and perhaps he really hadn't done so for years. Perhaps the only thing that made sense in him was his prostethic leg, and that was added onto him not a week ago.

Perhaps that was what he needed. An outsiders view, a new part of himself to guide the rest of his broken body.

Alexander kept on following Aeron outdoors into the Florida evening hours, the weather less killing that before all things considered. On the way he caught sight of Manny giving him his friendly wave, smile and nod, like he always had for his fellow baby boomer. Alexander returned the gestures, glad to have such friends out in such weather they had. Though the humidity, that you never got used to. "That would be A-Okay, really. As long as he doesn't mind an old tech-wiz talking about his scars…No, that would be great, I think…I hope." Alexander said quietly back to Aeron, taking in the air as he cleared his thoughts. He didn't want to, but he needed that. To talk. He'd talked, really talked to only a few select few his entire life. His wife, his friends pre-'Nam, and Aeron.

They knew It, how It had been and still was. Now he needed to get those ghosts out of his head.

Alexander took a deep breath as they kept walking, one hand stuffed down his pocket and the other hanging loosely at his side. "So about those photos, amongst other things you've hoarded, Aeron. What should I expect? One of those shows about manic hoarders, their garages full of newspapers and junk? I mean I was no better with old fridges and TVs in the basement of my shop, but still." Alexander attempted to banter to his friend, pulling the conversation to tonight's activity. He hated surprises, especially if the photo from last night had been a taste of what was to come.

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Streets of CMB/Beach (M9)
Skills: N/A

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An open mind, pen, paper and dice. Got it. For an activity Nigel had heard so little, yet imagined involved nearly as much theatrics as his days of reenactment, the simply tool Rosie told him to bring made Nigel give her a second glance, then one aimed at Amelia. Really? Was it that simple? Images of fellow students at the university, all dressed in robes, capes, pointed ears and staffs conjoured themselves in his mind, but now all he needed was those four items? Well, three items and an attitude. Clearly it was the latter that would be his biggest trial. It felt ironic, for he himself felt judged for his hobby, and now he was in the same galley. Funny how the world came full circle like that.

Though the conversations still revolved around Hunter and his Herculean act of stupidity or lack of luck, one of those two. Nigel really hoped both Rosie and Manny were right in their judgements. Perhaps he should check those records Rosie spoke of. Would be a good exercise in reading factual texts again after so long living the nomad life. While thinking about his visit to the Library of Alexandria 2.0, Nigel nodded politely to Manny's introductions. "Manny, I understand. I will do my best to remember their names, for I've not had the chance to speak to the two of them much. I no way doubt their prowess, especially with two of them having had such losses. Perhaps I will spar with Thalia later."

Soon Nigel bid farewell to the leaving Manny, feeling a yawn escape his mouth after what little salad he'd eaten found its spot. While he had no real concept of time those days, it felt as if evening was upon them, quickly followed by the calm of night. Nigel said goodbye to Amelia as well, soon sitting alone with Rosie. Company was growing scarce, he was no longer hungry, and time was fleeting as always. Nigel gave his regards to Rosie, picked up his plate and handed it in. It was not long after that he found himself standing outside the Mess Hall, walking down towards the Beach. Not for any particular reason, he just wanted to take a walk somewhere.

Though he wouldn't have minded walking with someone. Erica, Thana, Thalia…Loneliness was not a close friend of him, but he snuck up behind him like one with a dagger.
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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"Oh…Oh, I see." Was all Alexander had to say about that. The debt was paid, and the one paying it preferred to be remain unknown. Alexander nodded slightly at Aeron's explaination, trying to not think too much about it, even if his curiosity pondered. While he had his guesses, the old veteran knew better than to continue barking up that tree. Call it military honours or knowing when to leave better alone, it was not for Alexander to know. But he appriciated Aeron's sincerity, and the nameless benefactor, whoever they were.

A smile struck across Alexander's face at the talk of either producing pop themselves or raiding a Coca Cola plant. "Now that is an idea I'd support if we didn't have to much on our hands already, from the sound of it…" Alexander said back to Aeron, ready to reminice about the old days when a bottle of pop was the highlight of the day. It was cut short by the same sound Aeron compared to a ghost.

Not a sound, but a laugh…

"Thalia…what? I've never heard anything…I love Thalia like a uncle, but I've never heard her like this…" Alexander was stunned, not in a frightened sense but more along the lines of not expecting this kind of behaviour from his Angel. He looked with confused at Thalia for a moment, scratching his beardless cheecks before limping out after Aeron. They had plans to follow, stuff to do and shit to sort out. Very, very important shit.

"Ehm, Aeron, just one thing…Is it too late to…I mean, if it is possible to attends one of those meetings, the ones with the…ehm, shrink?" Alexander's question was hushed and brief, intended for only the ears of Aeron. He hadn't signed his name of the therapy-list that day, having been determined to push through whatever troubles came his way. After that day however, he wasn't sure anymore.

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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Nigel hadn't been in the mood to continue the converation about the game of DnD - as nice of it was for Rosie to invite him personally to the game - when there were bigger troubles at the gates of Rome than a lack of wine. Hunter had gotten himself locked up at Day 1 for Zeus' sake! The first day of their lives as real members of CMB, and he broke the law in some form or fashion enough to be court martialed. Nigel had to shake his head in disbelief, not knowing what to do, yet feeling immensly protective of the kid.

It was then with great confusion that Nigel set his eyes upon Rosie once again, attemtping to decypher the string of words she just presented to him. "You must pardon my Gaulic French, but what?" Nigel was unsure he had just heard correctly, that their system had processed those two vastly different cases? Perhaps it was the rigid Roman system of law that made the system of CMB seem alien to him, or more likely his life of absolute anarchy yet hadn't washed off the river Tiber?

Manny's words managed to calm down Nigel's fears, the story of the lady proverbially raised by wolves and treated like such a beast giving the Neo-Roman a brief sign of hope for Hunter. Nigel patted his hand at their table, seemingly in deep thought as he adressed Manny and the others. "I see…well if that is true a tale and you have as civilized laws as it sounds like, we may yet see Themis herself shine her beacon upon that troubled young man…"

Nigel looked down upon his salad, having poked it quite desperatly in his time of horror. His hunger had at this point drained away like shallow water in the Persian heat, and he pushed the plate away. Thinking about it, had he and the others in his old settlement been any better? Excecutions did not appear before him, only punishments and banishments…yes, he would hold onto his own words now. Let Themis guide them all in those troubling times.

"So…this game of D and D…am I really welcome? What do I need to do to play this game? And I'm sorry, Manny was it? You came in with the old veteran, Thana and the one-handed Amazon, didn't you?"
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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"Wait…the debt is already paid? By who?" Alexander asked Aeron abruptly, giving his fellow old man a surprised look. He had to ask the question, almost quicker than he had thought about it himself, for who would have gone and payed their debt already after just a week? It had been paid, not cleared, so it wasn't his former superiour from the Army days. It didn't make sense that anyone else had paid it down, as nobody else knew the who group…

Was it…no, could it? But she…how?

Alexander would wait for any kind of answer from Aeron, he too finishing his bowl of the lovely Tuna Casserole while Aeron spoke. In-between his own munching, Alexander had to nod and smile. He was right, seeing true happiness did wonders to even old wounds, especially those days. It had lifted ol' Mugsy's spirit surely, all the smiles and friendly conversations he'd had, and to see his loved ones safe. Alexander didn't say much to it, except for a brief and low reply of "Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. Amen."

The mention of them going out for a drink and looking at the photos Aeron had talked about all day, brought Alexander gently to his feet. He was determined, ready to get started on Aeron's promise from yesterday's festivities, hoping it would do him some good. "Sounds like a plan. I can't stuff myself anymore with the casserole, as great as it was. But I'll pass on the drink, just a water or the unlikely pop if you have." Alexander answered, picking up his tray and following Aeron's lead. It was getting crowded, a little too crowded for Alexander's own liking, and he had things to help with.

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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For all the pleasentries being passed arond the table, now with the arrival of the older man called Manny and whatnot, Nigel was thrown off the horse as of the words uttered by Rosie: "Yeah, he fucked up." Most of the following conversation was drowned out by his senses, a sense of dread washing over him as he thought back to the previous night. Really, he thought about the entire week and how Hunter had again and again managed to put his foot in his mouth in more intrecate ways. And now he had once again outdone himself.

"Court…martial…"

Nigel looked up in disbelief at Rosie, then Manny as he reinforced her point. Indeed Hunter was locked up at this point, presumably in a jailcell or dungeon, whatever Camp Mexico Beach had for these problems. And to add insult to injury they had taken his dog. Nigel, while not close to the young soldier, had a sense of responsibility over the boy. Perhaps it was his teacher's gene that made him predisposed to look after the troubled legionaire, or he simply couldn't believe what he was being told.

"…One day, no not even that…Half a day, and he's already been thrown into a carcer…Oh by what threads has his destiny been spun now?" Nigel muttered to himself, rubbing his face in disbelief at the thought that there was no saving that kid. No really, Nigel was losing hope fast, and clearly the others didn't pay his fate much effort. He sighed audibly, looking down upon his tuna salad in defeat, even as it was not his own battle he'd lost. "There's no saving that boy, is there? He needs help, but seems too far gone…What will happen to him now?" He wasn't talking to anyone around the table as much as he talked to himself. Perhaps some people just didn't want to be saved?
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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Alexander nodded along in deliberate silence to Aeron, looking at him with a knowing look to what he said. "Closure is better than the uncertainty, that I'm onboard with you 100 percent." the old veteran sighed, feeling the very essence of that word they used; closure. There were many chapters in Alexander's life that had been closed, most of them with a satisfactory end as much as closure could give; the loss of his father, his friends, his leg…the list went on. They troubled him too, but some chapters ended with just the pages torn out. Scraps, scars left behind in an unfinished book.

Closure would be good. Perhaps he then could move on…

Alexander listened with open ears to Aeron's tale of his family, his own loss and the others, knowing what his fellow old man from the old world felt as he uttered those words. The details were new to him, especially to Alexander the fact that Thana had a twin sister. The question he asked himself mentally of what she looked like was thankfully not spoken out, Alexander mentally slapping himself, leaving the family-talk for later. And then it was her little brother. Even Alexander, a single child, could imagine the loss.

"She does? Well, I suppose dragging my sorry ass across Georga and Florida does that to you…" Alexander joked, though it felt somewhat forced with his gaze instinctively went down to his peg-leg. They grew close, yes, but not out of kindness. It was desperation and not leaving an old grandpa for dead, one leg less. Pity, that was the word he looked for. Pity for an old man. Alexander sighed, looking back up at Aeron and trying to find any joy in what he said - in what Thana said. "Definietly a Brother in Arms, I would've fought with her back in 'Nam any time. I'm just glad she is here, alive and well. We all went through a lot to get back to that Ashton and his people, and all of us safely here. Like I said, I'll do my part to repay that debt, General Sir."

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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Nigel had clearly not prepared himself well enough for the onslaught of new information that was coming his way. One thing was the talk of the game of D and D, but to hear of the Professor - called Edna for the newcomer that himself had forsaken his old name of "Hadrian" - and her passion for said game was eye-opening for him. Like one of the three cave-dwellers new let loose into the real world to see what caused the shadows on the cave wall, Nigel had to come to terms with the fact that his fellow educator had another side.

Both confused, yet relieved, Nigel tried to process all of this information. Perhaps he was not as strange to this new land as he feared?

The neo-Roman could barely understand half of what Rosie educated onto Nigel, all the numbers and "checks" sinking into a Germanic bog without any context. Apparently Rosie however understood where Nigel was coming from, and the young lady Amelia clearly had a better understanding of the strange game. Nigel didn't say much, simply doing his best to hang onto the Byzantine chariot that was the talk of absurd characters and…You know what, Nigel was both bamboozled and intruiged. "I see. Perhaps I'll stick with swords for th moment, real swords I mean."

More people appeared at the table of strange tales when Manny, one of the two elder survivors approached to speak with Amelia. Had they been talking to each other before, or worked together? Why else would Manny approach her, when Nigel himself hadn't gotten to know many others so far. Or perhaps he was bad at making friends? Possibly. Anyway dogs had been involved…wait, dogs?

"I'm sorry to throw myself in-between you, but did you say dog? You don't mean the dog belonging to Hunter…Has anything happened?"
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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If Alexander had expected anything other than a negative response from Aeron, his sliver of hope still took a bad hit upon hearing the General's words echoing back at him. He didn't know - He only wished, and even then a fair share of their Brothers in Arms had come and gone at this point. Alexander breathed heavily, slowly and tiresome in and out, steeling himself for the cold reality that had always surrounded him.

He was alone, and had been quite alone for a long time.

The old veteran rubbed his face, attempting to block a trickle of tears from his eyes, thankfully without any fishy oil or spicy seasoning on his fingers to make bad even worse. What else had he expected? For all of the old gang to magically show up there at CMB, those guys who bid farewell to Alexander back in '72 and never looked back? The fellow veterans that stopped by once in a while for a chat and pat on the back with a "We're in this together, Alex…"? Those young buddies of his buried six feet under? Mason?

No, Alexander shouldn't expected miracles like that.

Alexander got his act together in the end, swallowing hard and looking back at Aeron as he promised to have Rolodex look into it. "Thanks, Aeron. It means a lot to me, even if she finds nothing…or nobody there…" Alexander mustered a feeble show of gratiude, forcefully returning to his tuna casserole for a few silent moments. He didn't know what ran through his mind, perhaps thoughts too powerful for him to comprehend without breaking down again. Alexander must have looked like quite the miserable old bastard, but then again he felt like one. Like in one of those movies, only less good looking and badass. He was no Sylvester Stallone or Chuck Norris, though perhaps he had fitted in as an old mafioso?

Slowly Alexander pulled himself together and looked back at Aeron, putting down his spoon and putting on a smile, albeit a small one. "You're lucky to have your family here, to have them safe and close. Even if your youngest one took great risks to find us…I guess she is kind of my family now too."

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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Clearly Nigel had just entered some quite barbaric territory with his curious conversation, with the Professor turning his attention to him quicker than a projectile from a Roman ballista and her warning not to encourage her. Before he had the chance to heed her warning and make his escape quick, the Professor had left Nigel behind for the proverbial death in the hands of Rosie, her minotaur bard and one of the girls from the other survivor group. Quietly Nigel prayed to the powers that might be or have been, hoping he hadn't just entered back into the kind of strange world of Hank and Wayne again.

At least he was invited to join Rosie at the table, which was something he supposed. Nigel slowly looked around for any saving grace, be it Thana, Erica or anyone else he could excuse himself with. The table with Rosie and Amelia was the only option then. Cursed be him by Hermes the trickster! Nigel sighed, but joined at their table in a confounded silence as he listened to the two ladies discuss this game of D and D.

In-between him nibbling at his plate of salad, a thankfully light meal in contrast to the heavy heat that had followed him all day long, Nigel tried to follow the conversation about the tabletop game with more twists and turns than the Odyssey. At least half of it sounded something coherent, possibly even half-Greek in its origin which prompted nods from Nigel, though the other half make him look with raises brows. Vikings, dead shipmates, urn with ashes on a staff? Not to mention the cow bell Rosie insisted on.

"Yes…I too must question the choice of a Viking cow?" Nigel decided to chip in, having ceased his salad-eating for the moment to bring in his personal expertise on the subject, at least he thought so. "Surely if you want to have a minotaur with the proficiency with the musical prowess of a bell, a better fit would be better suited with a Minoan esthetic, no? Think about it; the Minotaur is Cretan, Greek, with bronze weaponry raiding the shores of Egypt." Nigel said to Rosie, ending on a quick and quiet note as he looked over at Amelia who he had barely spoken with earlier. He felt embarrased all of a sudden, knowing he perhaps had no idea what he was talking about. From what he knew this was a fantasy game, and he knew those kinds of worlds rarely bound themselves to the rules of reality. Don't get him started on the lack of agriculture in the Lord of the Rings, and certainly not the movie "Troy".

Nigel quickly turned back to his salad, idly picking at it as he quietly spoke. "But I suppose I do not know much about the world of DnD. I might have been better suited in such a game set in our own world, in the days of Scipio Africanus and Hannibal…My apoligies."
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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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Ah yes, a hippy that had thrusted his toe into a solid piece of wood, steel or concrete harder than a runaway 80's fridge sliding down a set of stairs. Good one, one very much to Alexander's liking. It was nice, just plain and simple nice conversating unfolding between two old geezers at a dinner table. Alexander would have given his fellow veteran a sly smile and a laugh at his proposed meaning, however his forlorn look persevered as Aeron continued telling him what he knew.

A rock fell heavily on his shoulders, a lump in his throat blocked any word and flashing images blinded Alexander, accompanied by the echoing words of Aeron. "Yes, there were…"

Alexander should have expected the answer really. It hadn't been probable that their little island settlement had survived as long as Alexander had done. Then again, for a traumatized one-legged Mugsy he had been lucky. Still, the thought of them all gone had blocked out everything else Aeron had said, until they slowly filtered in through the fog of troubles. Alexander began to nod in silence, still holding a spoonful of TUNA CASSEROLE in his hand just a few inches before his eating hole. Eventually however he turned to Aeron again and forced out an answer to his friend.

"Yes…that would be…helpful, Aeron. Thank you. I had some good people out there, before…" Alexander began to utter an explaination, though the words failed him as he spoke. His tounge tied itself up, refusing to elaborate on just what his heart wanted to tell Aeron. His mind was drawn back to their very first day in CMB, the questionaire and his answer to one specific question. "…before it all went to Hell in a handbasket. Not too special a tale, I suppose. But it would ease my soul to know at least."

Alexander sighed heavily and attempted to eat the now spoonful of cool TUNA, though he only managed to chew on the fishy soup. The lump persisted, a protective dam holding steady. But what? His tuna from going in, or his truths from getting out? Through a mouthful of overly-chewed TUNA, Alexander tried to divert his troubled mind over to another topic, though the past remained. "It's a long shot, but did you hear from anyone else from the battalion? I hate to say it, but I guess it is safe to assume none of them have been around these days?"

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Outside of Education Center (M) -> Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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The great thinkers of the great civilizations of ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt, Persia and many more would have been fine allies to have in that decisive moment our neo-Roman teacher found himself in. Surrounded by people in front and behind him, all moving up the line awaiting a much-awaited destiny, Nigel wished he had put more thought into his mental abilities that day after a long day of hard Herculean labour. Stepping ever closer to this aforementioned Destiny, capital D, he hoped the long-gone Platon, Socrates, Cicero and other great minds of their time woulds shine their words of wisdom down upon his mortal being.

What to eat for dinner?

Nigel, stepping forward in a line he knew few people and stood far apart from those few he did know, had to think fast it seemed. The choices threw themselves with great force at his mental city walls; salad, casserole or sushi? Like the Hastati lined up in formation, the first in line and watching Gaulish barbarians charge towards their flank for brutal combat, Nigel was unsure of what to choose. He was deep in this Battle of Allia, only now noticing that the Professor had stepped in behind him alongside another lady he did not recognize, when he was thrust into battle, ready or not; it was his turn.

"Erm…I…a salad, please?" Nigel blurted out as his turn came and went, now standing with a plate of tuna salad in his hands. The battle had ended just as quickly as it began, though who won the mettle of steel he could not tell. His confusion was only confounded by the words coming from behind him, making him turn and look perplexed at Rosie as he got out of line.

Minotaur…bard…what?

He had heard of bards before, having attended more than his fair share of medieval/renaissance fairs in his lifetime, possibly in passing around those DnD-games, but one of the minotaur origin? Nigel would have scratched his head, had it not been for his hands being occupied by the tuna salad plate. He did however patiently wait for the Professor and Rosie to get their food before he posed the question of a century…well, a question. "I'm sorry, but I could not help but overhear you mention the Cretan minotaur. A bard, a minotaur bard? I don't know much about, well, the game of DnD if that is what you are talking off, but…just, how?"

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Alexander Polawski
Location: Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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The Tuna Casserole went down easy for ol' Mugsy, enjoying every spoonful of it as his calm conversation with Aeron continued to unfold. Tuna Casserole, he'd never in his life think he would enjoy such a grand meal after the world had ended. He had always liked fish, but those days finding an onspoiled can of tuna would have made him feel like the Sha of Iran. And yet now he was enjoying a Tuna Casserole like it wasn't a big deal, like he had just bought a hotdog from a stand before the big game. And now Alexander wondered if they served hotdogs in CMB.

Alexander had swallowed another spoonful while Aeron spoke his usual thoughtful phrases, this time about people being more than mere reports. That's one of the many reasons he had been so well-liked when they were both younger, he took the time to meet you even if you were just a small cog in the massive machinery that was the United States Army. Alexander nodded in agreement. "I'd toast to that, Aeron, if I been a drinking man. I can't remember how many guys in our platoon got chewed out by the top-brass at your level, guys who were nothing like the reports. That Nigel guy sure sems like a good fella, colourful, but if he can swing a sword like he says, I'm impressed." Alexander mused about the Roman odd-ball, though who was he to judge? He was Mugsy after all.

"Tesla? Oh yeah, the Korean fella who fixed Thalia and me up. Good guy, I might just ask him when I get the chance. Oldie is goldie, some youngsters once told me. Wore glasses too big to be practical, too thin a moustache and dressed like a fancy hippie. Even carried around a typewriter with him! I think he was what people called a 'hipster'…" Alexander rambled on, leaving the Tuna Casserole for the moment as he talked like he hadn't talked in a long time. It was the old Alexander, he who had a good life, if only for two thirds of the day. Alexander gave Aeron a smile stirring the casserole while he lowered his shoulders again. "You know what, Aeron? Life isn't so bad, not too bad all things considered…" The smile wore off however, leaving a long, thoughtful look on Alexander's face as he looked away. "…I'd only wish my wife could have seen it…"

Alexander eventually would turn back to Aeron, his face drawn out as he asked the question he'd thought of ever since he first heard of CMB. "You wouldn't happened to know of a settlement east of Florida, somewhere off the coast? That was where I was when this whole thing started."

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Nigel Cooper
Location: Outside of Education Center (M) -> Mess Hall (C)
Skills: N/A

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While Nigel would have gotten a good laugh out of the sight of the students and their Greek comedy play out, he was far too preoccupied by searching for the board. It was not too difficult to find, considering Thana had pretty easily pointed it out to him just ten, fifteen minutes earlier. While he had expected to find the list for classes he could attend and teach in himself, as he had understood the Professor, what he found was more…leisurely, so to speak.

"So I am to make a Greek of myself then…very well, as you wish, Euphrosyne." Nigel whispered to himself, inspecting the listed classes that were still open. Quilting had, for some odd maddening reason conjured up by the Sirens of the sea, been his own suggestion earlier. He shuddered at the thought, embarrassed at the sight of himself quilting instead of smithing. No, he would toil with something else, something better for himself, and so he kept going down the list.

Nigel was so concentrated on the board that he almost didn't notice Thana walking past him, warning him of the pen over the sword, giving him a good chuckle back. "Calamus gladio fortior, indeed Athena. Have a good one!" Nigel shouted back at her, his new unexpected friend and fellow gardener of the New Hanging Gardens of Babylon. They would have to work on a new and better name later. Thalia on the other hand he managed to miss, only catching her musing aloud the letters "D N D", before running off. Nigel tilted his head to the side, looking back at the board for what she had meant.

"DnD session…tossing the die, or dice." Nigel mused to himself, having first heard of the tabletop roleplaying game in his university years. But Nigel had felt more drawn to the act of swinging real swords, leaving the rolling of dice to Roman Caesars and other politicans. No, reading the board again his eyes fell on one line that echoed something Thana suggested. "Swimming…Scuba…" Shivers ran down his spine, unnaturally cold in the scorching Florida steam, though he steeled himself. Thana had told him Maddoc would run said classes, pointing out it would help him helping her in the underwater garden. He wished he could be enthusiastic about it, but the fear held him back. A fear that had followed him since childhood and a certain…well, well.

Nigel shook himself loose from the stoning gaze of Medusa, puffing his chest out and doing something he might regret very much later on; he signed his name on the list. And as soon as he had done that, he quickly retreated and made his way to the Mess Hall, as if to distance himself before he changed his mind.

Nothing had changed since lunch earlier that day, not even the smell. Fish, more fish for food as was expected. Nigel got in line like most others, further behind Thana and Thalia up front, himself looking for more people he knew. The two old men, Alexander and the General were seated alone at a table, while he recognized at least the girl called Lisa sitting with a larger crowd. Who would he sit with and use his Roman diplomatic skills with, meaning acting awkward and defensive? Only time and dinner would tell.
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