Alexander PolawskiLocation: The General's Office -> On the way to Medical
Seconds became days and weeks, even months and years for Alexander as Aeron accepted his need to talk, prompted by those four simple words; "Then let us talk." Alexander took a deep breath, filling his lungs with much air to carry him through this insurmountable mission he had just set himself out on - to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The truth, which he'd been told many times by Freedman, would allow him to pass through that painful obstacle and finally move on. And so he needed as much air as he could, before he started telling Aeron about…
A knock interrupted Alexander from uttering a single coherent word, making him hold his breath in suspense, the knock taking him by complete surprise. Who was it? Before he knew it, Doc Michael entered Aeron's office, paying Alexander little attention. His presence was probably not an issue to the doctor, after all they both knew about Aeron and what was killing him from the inside. His presence only disheartened the old veteran though. From the sound of what little conversation he and Aeron had, things were only growing worse.
And he couldn't help but feel an immense pride in seeing Aeron outright refuse the wheelchair, yet a bottomless sorrow knowing where this was going. Even in the face of Death, The Dragon stood tall and strong as example for his men. This time however, Death would be the last one standing.
The entire interaction was brief, allowing Alexander to remain with Aeron alone as he was asked to follow him for the walk. Alexander, having forgotten to breath throughout the conversation, let out a long breath and taking in another deep one, before nodding woefully to him. He got up on his foot and prostethic, approached his old friend and gave him a disheartened smile. "To the end of the World, General. Come on, Aeron, grab my arm if you need."
Holding out his arm for Aeron to grab onto as support, Alexander pushed aside his own troubles for the time being. His need for confession could wait, when Aeron needed him the most. And in that sense, Alexander felt happier, knowing he was still of use, if only for an old man fighting a losing war against cancer. With or without helping Aeron, Alexander would open the door for him and follow him out into the hallway, then outside into the streets and the hospital. "I have to give it to you. You're one stubborn old bastard, with all due respect. Glad to be by your side, old friend."
Nigel CooperLocation: Bus -> Gaskins Still
With Nigel's proposal for resiprocal training in the art of war being accepted by the self-claimed non-expert, the Neo-Roman felt slightly more confident in their ventures as of today. Calling Ash an expert might have been a fancy florishing of words on his part, but in true comparison Nigel was still very much the novice when it came to handguns. He'd always used his sword after all, and that was both quiet and efficient enough for his own liking, so the need had never arisen.
Times changed though, and even he understood that. Now at least he had someone to help him on that unknown path that was the future.
The time for Ash to talk had not ended though, with a new matter which the new-world soldier decided to put his weight behind. The plan, or at the very least A plan going forward. The plan was as simple as it was sound, though the explisite inclusion of modern firepower was a tactic Nigel wasn't too familiar with, very least at this close range. Thalia's inclusion of stealth was a warm welcome to him, prompting Nigel to reply. "Fairly, though nothing compared to yourself. I can be quiet when the need arises…" He even managed to keep his mouth shut at that point, instead of going off on a long Latin quote about silence and whatnot, as if making a comedic point in contrast. Nigel simply took a deep breath and continued with another comment. "We head out as quietly as possible. As lain upon us earlier, we are not fighting time itself, so silence and patience are virtuous in this battle."
Looks like Nigel managed to sound ancient again. Touché.
It didn't take long for the bus to arrive at their designated drop-off point, an intersection before their planned foraging duty up north. Their target, a food mart. Outside the 'fresh' air caught Nigel in the face as he disembarked their galley on wheels, stretching out on the way out as if cramped inside CMB. His senses sharpened quickly as he mentally ordered himself to return to duty, a retired legionaire put back into service for the Empire. No sooner than they'd been given their final orders and Team B had ran off like Iberian skirmishers, Nigel turned to his group and looked them up and down. They all looked prepared, as prepared as one ever could be in this world of death, blood and fire.
A lone road kept going north from their position, treelines on all sides and far away in the distance the sight of a rooftop. Flat and industrial, that had to be their goal for small campaign. A road kept going to the east, encompassing a small overgrown field of what had probably been farmland, while the left contained more trees. Fairly simple, as long as they weren't being watched.
"North it is then, though let's head on the left side of the road. If we encounter resistance, may give us more cover..."
A pause from the now sword-wielding Roman came as a hushed reaction to something his eyes saw. In half a year Nigel hadn't seen one of Them, not this close and in reach of him. A certain instinct took posession of him, his hand gripping tightly around his sword - a fine blade, though sadly not his own beloved Gladius he'd carried into CMB. Eyes narrowed and locked onto the shambling Servant of Hades off in the distance, he breathed slowly and reminded himself of the threat of life outside the Walls.
A single Walker, off in the distance. Yes, they still existed out there. It didn't seem to notice them, at least not for now as Nigel eyed it like a scout keeping watch for a passing Gaul band of bandits. A brief look from Nigel onto the others told them he was ready to go deal with it at a moments notice, as he waited for it to wander off or approach them.