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Recent Statuses

9 mos ago
Current Alternatively - and now, hear me out - one could avoid looking up photos of such eldritch horrors ... maybe?
3 likes
10 mos ago
Back for my bi-yearly visit. Now where did I leave that thingy-ma-jig? Anyone seen that mish-masher? I think it looks like motivation or something!
4 likes
3 yrs ago
I now identify as a Master Procrastinator. Thank you all, and good night.
1 like
3 yrs ago
New medical term: Dizzy mummy (condition of patient when world is spinning and only treatment is confinement to bed). I hate being sick...
3 yrs ago
@Vampiretwilight: Funny indeed. Now to make it into a roleplay here...let the madness and sassy Narrator commence.
1 like

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-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


Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin)
Skills: N/A



The dream continued to swurl around his Mahendra's head as he was still fast asleep in his bed, changing from one dream into another with a seamless transition that only made sense in a state of sleep. The burning heat of the Sinai-desert was slowly but sure replaced by the less hot air of a military hospital. It was still in Egypt, his bed neighbours were still soldiers, but the sounds of artilley, gunfire and screaming had changed to the usual sounds of a hospital. Chattering between nurses, soldiers and doctors, people playing cards or shuffling in their beds due to itchy bandages, and himself lying motionless in his own bed. His own father, pale as a ghost but with a smile on his face stood beside Mahendra, comforting him while an officer from his regiment told him the impossible; his father was dead. Mahendra couldn't understand it as he was standing right there, comforting him. What was true? Was he then himself dead? His father comforted him, even as he faded from existance, and a soft voice told him not to worry.

The dream shifted scene once again, now to an even colder climate as the Bengali son of a poor trader in Kolkata who had never travelled far from his home, now saw the smoke rising tall in the distant horizon. Ships of countless sizes and designs sailed to and from them, as themselves sailed towards the coast. England, the heart of an empire that was as eternal as the moon and stars. This was his future now. Mahendra, in his dream, both smiled and showed concern as he packed himself tighter in a coat that was obviously too big for him. He was so far away from home, but perhaps this could give him a better future there? Soon he would step out onto proper British soil for the first time, and embrace what his future had in store. But all the people he could see from the ship were grey and obscured, and no-one said a word. Or if they did, he didn't understand them. Or did they not understand him?


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Dining Area)
Location: N/A



"It's probably okay enough to drink, if it's the same water served on all decks of the ship. But if you start to feel sick, you know the drill." Richard answered Faye's question about the water, while he himself was personally setting his sunglass-less eyes set on the beer on the table. But first, the various bits and bobs of food. He recognized several dishes of Egyptian street food from his time as a street cop back in Little Egypt; Kushari, Falafels, Kofta, you name it. Even if the New York Egyptians had their own variants, made with American ingredients, the smells rang true to his bandaged nose. Too bad they didn't have any Greek food, he'd like a small pot of souvlaki. The detective grabbed a few foods onto his plate, enough to fill his nicotine-filled stomach, before grabbing a beer.

"Good girl, you're starting to learn. But one glass is good." The beer looked okay enough, better than most speakeasies had to offer in the various hidden joints that he wasn't supposed to know about, and certainly not go to. But in all honesty, he missed the taste of a good beer. "That's one thing I gotta give to'em; they still serve beer in this country. Say what you want about 'The Destructive Effects of the Devil's Drink', but outlawing it was a stupid move by stupid men in the top that still drink it like the rest of us, just behind their back while lying to everyone else."

Richard made his way over to a bench and table where there were resonably enough space for Faye and him to sit. Sitting down on the bench and putting his plate and glass down on the table, he looked around to show Faye where he was sitting, while making sure no-one else took her spot. It was like the subway or bus during rush-hour; it was a fight of life and death, only with seats. "Say Faye, you never told me how you got cooked up in the whole 'supernatural' business, did you? What made you believe in ghosts?"


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (C8 -> G9)
Skills: N/A




Thalia was high as a G.I. after having his first experience with high-quality army morphin after just getting shot by a VC from behind, that much was a 10-4. But she was at the very least able to work her drugged-down brain into drinking her bottle of water and realizing she needed a can-opener for her can of O's. It was better than her trying to open it with her teeth or fingers, not being affected as much by the pain as she was. Though she was sweating, like all of them were sweating. The water helped a little, but it only gave comfort and didn't solve their problem. Alexander looked back over to Beatrice after Thalia had given her approval of her table, but didn't manage to say anything before Thalia had started to...undress...what?

"...Ehm, Thalia? Beatrice, can you...?"

Now Alexander had seen his fair share of non-clothed women through his adult life. Those magazines he would peak at alongside his teenage friends with women of dubious repuations, his first girlfriend, the pictures he brought to Vietnam, traded for down there and sometimes ladies of the night when he was really down, and of course his...his wife. Alexander glanced at her only for the brifest of moments, before looking away and leaving Beatrice to take care of her. Alexander limped over to Manny, the only other man in the house as it seemed as it was time for him to wake up. Alex couldn't help her either way, she was too heavy for his one leg.

"Manny, you awake? Gotten a good rest, have you?" Alexander asked as he rested himself against the wall and looked down at Manny. "Thana still hasn't come back, so it's still just the four of us here. And I think you probably should take another look at Thalia soon." He said the first part as if that was the least of their problems, but Alexander felt that lump in his throat that he'd felt so many times before. If she didn't come back soon, it would be dark. That was if she would ever come back, or was alive. But the old grunt knew that panic would only worsen the situation, and so tried to keep as calm as he could. Even if Thalia was sprawled out on the floor.



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C7 -> C8
Skills:




As soon as it had commenced, the skirmish that Wayne had dragged them into had finally ended with a victory for the living and a defeat for the undead. With Hank taking out the last walker with his Parthian cavalry charge, fittingly now called "Shovel Knight" in Nigels head, the Neo-Roman soldier let down his shoulders and weapons in a moment of brief calm, catching his breath and wiping the sweat that was running like a waterfall from his face. Or was that just the moisture from the swamp? Only the Gods knew. "That Hank, I can agree to. The place I held up in is a not an option now, so let's keep moving forward. Maybe our new acquaintance knows somewhere..."

Nigel "Hadrian" had started to turn around while he spoke, but his words ceased to continue once he too noticed what Wayne the Vulgar had noticed. Where was Robert? "A seizure? Just like that?" Nigel questioned Erica, not quite understanding how that could have happened so fast. A few moments earlier he had seemed quite fine enough considering the circumstances. Even offered him a bag of chips. Erika did say that she knew of a place they could rest up, but Nigel was still having his doubts. This was happening so quickly. "...Hold your chariot, I'm going to check Robert first."

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck (Personal Cabin)
Skills: N/A



The Bengali geologist, far far away from his native homeland and still a fair distance away from the sort of location his occupation normally would guide him towards, was still sweating as he lay in his bed. In a matter of minutes, his closed eyes were no longer closed on command but instead closed in restful sleep that a man of his current circumstances were duly deserving. Who knew how long he would be like this? Certainly long enough to miss the certainly filling dishes that the rest of their fellowship were to soon enjoy. And if Lauren was as kind as Mahendra was under the impression of, perhaps he too could enjoy their meals, just a little delayed. Hopefully they would have something not containing cattle, or else he'd be more than happy with a normal sandwich. But that was not on his mind right then, but more urgent matters. Matters of life and death.

In his sweat- and pain induced dream-state, he was still in the desert of Egypt, but not in the area surrounding Cairo. The sun was scorching everything it set upon, including the large line of entrenchments and soldiers in it. Defending it. Defending what? Mahendra was there, then the Sepoy Zalil of the 11th Indian Divison, defending the Suez-Canal from the advancing Ottoman forces. The orders were clear, to stop them from taking control of one of the many lifelines of the British Empire and critical supply route to the entire European Theatre of war. Good for them, they already knew when and where the Ottomans were coming. But it was still bloody.

Mahendra wouldn't be sure if his dream was an accurate representation of the actual battle, but the main themes were there. He was there, both of them were there; He and the Turk. Mahendra stood up from his position in the trenches to look at the incoming soldiers charging them. From his back they was given the order to open fire, and so they did. Mahendra hesitated, staring down his rifle's sight at a man that could barely be any older than him. The order was given again, but again no shot rang from his rifle. Aagin he was told to start shooting by his English commanding officer, and now he had no choice. He pulled the trigger with closed eyes, but they opened just in time to see the soldier get hit and stumble forward.

His first kill in a line of many through that war, but on he'd rather forget.


Richard Barker




Location: Lower Deck (Dining Area)
Location: N/A



"Oh yes, you persist. That much is true." Richard had to pull his cheek into a small smile at her observation of the 20t century's women. Richard wasn't sure where he stood on the whole "Women's Liberation"-thing. Sure, some ladies had more than enough backbone to prove their worth and be compared to even the President of the United States, and for those women he had all the respect in the world. But then there were the women who used their new-won freedom to take advantage of men with soft hearts or ambitions of their own, and then turn around just to stab them in the back. There probably was a word for that, and it was probably something in French. His own ex-wife probably fit into the bill. Faye on the other hand, she was more of the first. Even if she just kept talking like most women did.

"Be careful what you say. Before you know it, one of us or both get a serious case of food-poisoning. If they served meat of dubious quality and origin back in New York, I'm sure it can happen here too." Richard cautioned Faye as he too eyed the buffet table. There were large assortments of food there, ready for the lower-class passengers to dig into like the doves in Central Park. Who knew if they served pigeons here? "If it tastes funny, reconsider what you're having to eat. If it tastes normal, still reconsider." Richard continued as he made his way towards the buffet, starting to feel his stomach growling. He hadn't eaten breakfast after all, or anything else for that matter he thought? Only cigarettes and cynical comments about this foreign land. Grabbing a plate and starting to put a small assortment of Egyptian cuisine on the platter. "Beer or water, Faye?"



Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (B6 - C8)
Skills: N/A




It was good that they were still planning on what to do, even if the planning revolved around staying put where they already where and licking their wounds. No wait, it was exactly what they should be doing. Going into battle fatigued, low on supplies and without intel was a sure way to give Charlie a very good day of fighting. Yes, staying there for a little while longer was probably their best bet. Alexander, taking some time to get back up on his foot and cane, was going to jokingly tell Manny how Thana probably would bring the navy instead of the army, and how he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. But as the old veteran got to look over the counter, he saw Manny fast asleep against the wall. He couldn't blame him. Their medic had just done a very brutal surgery, and needed the rest.

"Yeah sure, give me a second." Alexander said to Beatrice, asking for a bottle of water. He managed to place three bottles tucked underneath his right arm, and started to limp over to her and Thalia on the table. Why was she still lying there, and not in a comfortable bed or couch? Alexander put the three bottles down on the table, one for each of them. "Here you go, you two." he said, leaning against the table in order to more freely use both his hands as he opened one bottle for Thalia and one for himself. "Don't drink too fast. These things don't grow on trees." Alexander continued, bowing his head forward and quietly giving a short prayer over his bottle of water, before taking a sip.

"What do you think, Bea?" Alexander started to ask Beatrice, beginning to button down his shirt and roll up the sleeves, just in order to get some better ventilation going. Somehow he missed the combat clothing they had back in 'Nam, at least that was meant for those temperatures. "You think we can get her a better place to lay?" he asked, turning his head to look at Thalia with a heavy smile, and not in a wholy good way. "What'ya say, Angel? Sleeping on a table isn't the most comfortable thing I can imagine?"



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C8 -> C7
Skills: Sword fighting, Shield fighting




If the group up front was anything but unlike each other in so many ways, at least one thing bound them together was their abilities to fight. Stepping over the body of the undead minion of death and apocalypse, Nigel did take note of Wayne piercing the walker's head with his machete and taking it out, and Hank nearly literally helping one dig its own grave. They were unorthodox, but it worked. Then again he was far from your stereotypical image of a survivor of the End-Times. Perhaps they were more alike than he thought?

Hank's insult to the undead was understable enough, even if it was a little uncivilized? Rome conqured the world through fighting, not throwing dirt on their enemies, but he saw where he was coming from in moderate amounts. Wayne on the other hand, that was another matter. Nigel "Hadrian" threw him a look of mixed irritation and...no, it was annoying. "...It is not a skirt..." Nigel said sternly back to Wayne after he'd asked...someone, the aforementioned "Glitterfuck" or whatever it was called, before advancing towards another walker. Nigel made the walker grab onto the shield, stearing it sideways and then coming from behind with his sword as he threw the undead fighter to the ground. But a stab in the back wasn't enough, so the next strike came to its head, finishing the job.

"It is a tunic. Completely different thing." Nigel continue to educate Wayne, taking up his fighting stance again as he looked at the last walker. One more to go, and maybe then they could finish up with their strategic bad position.

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Second Deck -> Personal Cabin
Skills: N/A



Every step up the staircase was a hill getting steeper and steeper as Mahendra went up. Thankfully it wasn't so long as to fatigue him completely, but once he stepped onto the Second Deck, he was visibly tired from the ordeal. The burning pain had already given his cheeks a red tint, but now they were ever more distinct as beads of sweat gently congregated around the Bengali's fine moustache. But they were on the right floor now, so he didn't complain. "Elite Deck? THat is very, what is the word...luxurious? Perfect for such a kind lady as you, Lauren." Mahendra was more than happy with his own room's level of stature, but he gave Lauren a polite smile back. She probably had good karma after taking such good care of her.

"No, I think it...yes, right here." They had moved down a corridor filled with various cabins for the ship's passengers, and soon Mahendra saw the his designated room. It was on the port-side of the steamboat, not that it mattered to him but it was nice to know in-case he got lost. As Lauren asked if he wanted her to bring hime some leftovers from the current meal, Mahendra's polite smile turned into one of a surprise. "Would you do that for me? Rhada keep watch over you Lauren, that would be very nice of you. Yes please." Mahendra thanked her, slowly letting go of her assistance and staggering to his room, opening the door. "Thank you again, Lauren. I think I shall rest now. Until later..." He finished up their friendly conversation and got into his room.

Mahendra didn't pay much attention to the room assigned to him; he noticed it was fairly comfortable taking into account that it was on a steamboat, the balcony out on portside, and most importantly the bed. In a manner of a man he'd been through quite a lot that day, he took of his shoes and whatever jacket he'd been wearing, and sat down on the bed. It didn't take very long for him to lay down on the pillow, close his eyes and drift away.


Richard Barker




Location: Second Deck: Stairs to Lower Deck -> Lower Deck
Location: N/A



"Look kid, I'm not your baby-sitter or bodyguard down here..." Richard started to say to Faye as they made their way down the stairs, past the countless passengers of all kinds of shapes, sizes, colours and dubious backgrounds going the other way. "If you want to stay here after we're done, I'm not stopping you." Passing a couple of people who found it in their best interest to stare at Richard and his nose, the detective found it best to cover it with his hand like he'd done so many times before, and try to face Faye as much he could.

"You're good, whatever it is you call what you do, but good. But listen to the old dog when he smells trouble. It's a bad, bad world out there, kid, just be ready for that." He doubted her beliefs more than he doubted her skills, but he'd seen all too many idealistic young gals get flushed down and ripped to pieces in a dark underworld that cared little for their well-being. Especially those days, when they were so brace. He didn't want Faye ending up that way, not on his watch.

Down in the Lower Deck, Richard was met with a familiar atmosphere from home; loads of people all crammed up like Swedish sardines in a can two sizes too small, all talking loudly about God knows what. It was just like being home in the subway or an elevator, but with more food. Richard looked from Faye and over to the buffet-table(ish), figuring they'd have to get food and drinks before finding a seat, and then back to his female partner. "Ready to explore what the mysterious Egyptian cuisine has to offer then?"


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (G7 -> B6)
Skills: N/A




As much as he wanted a breath of fresh air crashing through those windows, just something to make the interiour of the house liveable without the risk of being boiled like an egg, Alexander had to agree with Beatrice's judgement. Better safe than sorry, or better sweaty than sorry in their case. And safe they needed to be right then, as Thalia scooped up the painkillers and, after some difficulty, got a couple of pills out while thanking him. Alex shot her a short smile as he decided to actually start searching for those supposed cans of food in the kitchen. Thalia probably needed that substinance after the operation, if it could be called that. "Considering what you've just been through, perhaps I am? Don't mention it, Angel."

Where to start though? Alexander looked at the various cabinets and drawers of the kitchen, unsure of where to start looking. And besides the by now legendary cans of food, what else was he looking for? In the stiffling Florida-heat, they desperately needed water as well. Loads of it. Might as well start low and go up then. Alexander leaned his cane against one of the counters and slowly lowered himself down on the floor. The first cabinet was dissappointing, but as he started searching underneath the sink, he found it. "Well I'll be...I found water, lots of water!" Mugsy called out to the others, pulling out a 24-pack of bottle water with his G.I. strength out onto the floor. So far, so good.

Alexander continued the search through various other cabinets, but nothing compared to what he found next. Neatly hidded behind one of the bracers, he found what appeared to be at first an ordninary mug, nothing fancy. But as he pulled it out to just give it a casual look, an odd expression came upon his face. He really wasn't sure what to feel. It was a normal coffee mug, but printed on it in big, black text was; "...You're lucky I only have one foot or..." Mugsy read out loud, his eyes now seeing the stickfigure in the middle with only one leg, before the text continued. "...I'd be kicking your ass right now." Alexander couldn't help but chuckle a bit at he absurdity, but it was as if it was meant for him all along. "I guess you're mine now, little fella."



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C9 -> C8
Skills: Sword fighting, Shield fighting, Survival




With the confirmation that the new lady was okay, Nigel kept up the pace forward in order to reach the small horde before Wayne did something stupid to hurt himself. Well that last part was probably very much overdue, but helping him was at least partially beneficial for Nigel too. Leaving their rear to Robert and the stranger, Nigel stepped to the side of the road and advanced on the grassy ground as he came close to the undead. Sweat dripped from all over him, sticking to the already wet clothes to his body. He really didn't want to be in that swamp anymore, and going through that legion of undead was the only way. "Coming on your left side, watch your fire Wayne!" Nigel "Hadrian" warned Wayne as he came up on the side, though the warning wasn't neccecary after all. Both his guns jammed, only reinforcing the Neo-Romans belief that swords were better.

Nigel moved steadily forward, shield held up in front of him as he circumvented the first walker and went straight for the second one just behind it. It grabbed for him, but "Hadrian" knew the drill well by now; let it come forth, stop and push it to the side and down with the shield, and finally go in for the blow. Nigel shoved the walker down to the side, pushing it onto its knees before the sword cut into it's head. The blade went into it's skull and eye-socket, making it go limp. But as he was focused on the battle around him, he didn't see the battle going on behind him. Robert against the forces of nature, in which he was losing.

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Stairs leading to Second Deck -> Second Deck
Skills: N/A



Was it the blodd-loss making him not as attentive as he'd been before, or was his mind simply refusing to cooperate because of bad karma? Either way it hadn't occured to Mahendra to actually hand over his ticket to the crew guarding the stairs and not his I.D. In the time it took for his poor brain to come up with that master plan, Mahendra noticed the smile Lauren gave him after her reply. "Yes, of course...let us both hope that that doesn't happens then, hopefully?" Mahendra said with a fatigued smile back, before finally realizing what he should be doing; handing over his ticket.

Biting through the burning pain that was still in his belly, Mahendra handed over the ticket to the crewman and waited patiently for his judgement. He looked back at Lauren, catching her earlier words. "Oh do not worry about me, Sadaẏa* Lauren. I've been through...much worse than glass. But...Thank you anyway. You are too kind." Mahendra turned back once the crewman caught his attention, partially by coughing and calling him by his last name. Apparently, to his understanding, he had access to the Elite Deck due to his role as assistant to Vera. With the ticket stamped and handed back to Mahendra, he started to move forward in the line and up the stairs, but stopped once he realized Lauren possibly wasn't with him. "May I ask ask to which deck you're assigned to?" The Bengangli glass-man asked Lauren, waiting up for her and making his way up to the Second Deck once they were together again. Soon, very soon he should have his time of rest, hopefully on a comfortable bed. Yes, that sounded nice.




Richard Barker




Location: Second Deck: Starboard railings -> Stairs to Lower Deck
Location: N/A



"What I make of Egypt?" Richard repeated the question out loud, looking from the young and promising lady Faye who he hoped wouldn't end up in the same shitholes he'd been in, and turned his gaze out and up into the North-African sky. "On the one hand, it sure ain't Brooklyn. I'm sweating like a nervous pig in a Greek butcher house, most people give me a funny look that I don't like, and...I don't know." Richard looked down again as he pulled out his sunglasses and put them on his bandaged nose, looking back at Faye. "I'd rather not go on vacation just yet, got too much at my plate right now."

That much was true. He had plenty of unfinished business back in the States. Unpayed bills, unsolved cases, but most importantly a missing girl. His girl. Going off to the other side of the world while Elise was still missing. Stolen like an apple by a starving street kid. Richard sighed, looking up from his soon-to-be worn out shoes and back up at Faye as she started to move towards the stairs leading down. It was time for the first meal of the day for the hungry detective. "On the other hand, it doesn't smell as bad. Plenty of interesting people out here, like you said. And the food isn't too bad. Frankly I'm just waiting for someone to attempt to rob us. You know what they say; the more things change, the more they stay the same." Richard continued his conversation, cutting the distance between him and Faye until he was beside her. "You're not thinking of staying here after this is done, alone?"


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (G7 -> C10 -> G7)
Skills: N/A




At least she wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs after something to take the pain away, which was good. Meant the pain was bareable. Bad, but bareable. Stabilizing himself on his cane as he pushed himself from the window he had kept watch over, Alexander slowly started to limp over to the table with Thalia. Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump. Was he ever going to get used to the sound of only one foot against the floor, supported by a simple stick of wood? It didn't help that his palms were sweaty, all of him was sweaty. Who knew how hot it was inside of the house. 80? 90? 100? Being in the jungle for three years was one thing, but this was seriously not good for Alexander's knees. Opening a window wasn't an option either, not with the wind and the talk of barricading going on.

But at least Thalia was alive. That was what mattered.

Alexander looked at Beatrice as she said he could cook up some O's for Thalia, but didn't say anything as Thalia shot back at her that she didn't want them. Seriously? Alexander, even for the old man liking those girls, they really should stop with the O's. But something else? "Yeah sure, I can do that. Didn't Navy find any cans of food before she left?" Alexander said out to the group in generel as he reached the table, leaning on the table as he started fishing through his pockets, looking at Manny. "You're a good doctor, Manny, but you should write down a list." Up from a pocket Alexander pulled out a medicine bottle and put in on the table with Thalia. "I'm fine for now, so take what is needed." Alexander said to both of them, though giving Thalia a strained smile at the sight of her. "I'll go check what's in the kitchen, just need to take another look." A part of him wanted to put a hand on Thalia's shoulder, give her some form of comfort, but he couldn't. Now now.

The one-legged veteran limped his way back to the window he'd looked out of, leaning his sweaty shoulder into the window pane as he tried to find a comfortable position. Looking out of the window more closely, he started noticing something. Not any NVA as you'd expect, opening fire with Ak's and RPK's, but the debris. Wiping away some of the drops of sweat from his face, Alex turned back to the rest of the Eden Team. "Hey, looks like the wind is slowing down a little out there. Maybe it'll die down soon? Wouldn't mind getting some fresh air in."



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: C10 - C9
Skills: Scouting, Survival




The gentle breeze that blew down the road and past the rag tag group of survivors could have been, for lack of better words, a breath of fresh air in the nearly liquid stale air that surrounded them all. But there was no cooling down the situation right then, not way at all it would seem. Wayne was opening fire at the little army of Undead, marching duly to the Drums of the Endtimes and straight towards them, all the while people were trying to decide what to do. Robert had just told Nigel to go forth while he took care of the girl. Nigel gave him in due turn a stern look, as if saying to him; "Seriously, this again?" He was going in while he stayed back and either prayed or played a good samaritan? "...Non litiges cum stultus."

Nigel looked to the newly-arrived lady and asked the question nobody had apparently bothered to ask until now; "Are you hurt, ma'am?" But he didn't wait long for an answer, continuing after Hank in the swealtering heat that could have made that place the salted remains of Carthage and looking at the treelines on each side of the road. With all that sound from them talking, and Wayne talking to himself and shooting, "Hadrian" was certain that there would be walkers crawling onto the road from the sides. But in what felt like a clearer state of mind, he managed to interpret the sight of trees and any lack of Visigothic warriors as a good thing; He wasn't going all Koalemos for once!

That left their priority in the front. Wayne. Nigel continued forward, gladius and scotum in hands and ready for a fight, as he came closer and closer to Wayne. So far he was getting mauled, but for how long? And were they going to help him? Was that the best course of action? Just leaving them was always an option; an harsh option, but still an option, right? Then again, that was the way there were headed.

Mahendra Huq Zalil




Location: Main Deck: Lounge -> Stairs leading to Second Deck
Skills: N/A



Mahendra, having somehow steadied himself on the aforementioned chair, managed to stand straight with the assistance of Lauren and gave one last smile and nod to everyone around the table. He made sure to give the approriate attention to George and his sister Gene as they were introduced and wish of a good rest. "Thank you, Mr. Benaszewski, and good to make your..." Mahendra started, but had to focus a tad more at the last word. "...acquaintance, Miss." He finished, before holding that little firmer to Lauren's hold on him with his one hand as he started moving. The other hand rumaged through his pocket for the ticket, his ticket. No good would ever come from taking the wrong room. "Second Deck. It would seem that I have a portside view from my room. That's good, I suppose?"

The Main Deck was starting to thin out ever so slightly for various reasons it would seem, but Mahendra was still taking it slow, even with the assistance of Lauren. "I hope you understand that I...appriciate you helping me, Lauren. Were the tables turned around, I assure you I would have done the same...Unless that would be innaproriate of me, of course." Mahendra flustered at the last part, imagining what it could have looked like had it been the other way around; What would people have said and thought? But for now his mind mostly focused on the prospect of a good, soft bed to lay down on. As he came to the stairs leading up from the Main Deck and up to the Second Deck, one of the ship's crew stopped him to ask him about his identification, surely to make sure that the wrong people didn't gain access to places they weren't meant to be.

"Mahendra Huq Zalil. My identification? Of course, please just give a moment..." Mahendra answered the crewman's inquiry, searching his pockets for his wallet and pulling out his British-Indian passport for him to check. Hopefully the glass hadn't made the passport photograph unrecognizable. So for good measure, he pulled out his ticket as well.


Richard Barker




Location: Second Deck: Starboard railings
Location: N/A



Richard gave off a heavy sigh, heavy like a grand piano getting dropped by some Polish workers getting yelled at by an Irish landlord on Perry Street, ten stories straight down onto the pavement and all the way down into the sewers. He should have expected Faye to give the screaming some supernatural abilities, which he was one hundred percent sure it wasn't. Plenty of people had screamed back in Little Egypt back home, and you didn't see any ghosts flying off into the closest mosque, church, synagogue or ancient temple across the sea, now did you? But she did at least have a point, partially. "Staying clear of that person, now that is a horse I can bet on. I'd rather keep my sense of hearing for a few more years."

The steamboat started moving up (or down?) the river Nile, and so it would seem its passangers did; following the current flow of human winds to wherever they were wanted or wanted to go. Richard looked at the various people down on the lower deck and the deck around him, having the equivelant of an internal Battle of the Somme on a question that neither answer was ultimately good; Was it time for another sigarette? The Detective shoved his hand down his pocket, pulled up the battered box of cheap, Egyptian cigarettes and looked into the pocket. Like the last bullets in his well-used .38 in a dodgy alleyway without any proper name, they were there but best saved for later. The hound inside him was getting something else to feast on. "Say Faye, are you up for something to eat? If you're lucky, one of those Army Chaps will too? Just as a good sign, you know."


Alexander Polawski



Location: Quincy : Inside house (G6 -> G7)
Skills: N/A




Alexander quietly nodded as Manny went on to give his educated guess on Thalia's condition and prospects, limping his way over from the fireplace he'd been almost standing in for no apparent reason and over to the window just beside the front door. Lucky? That was as relative a term as an "accomplished mission" had been. Lucky for who, and how? Alexander knew how much pain it was getting your limb taken off, and would have preffered Thalia not experiencing the maddening pain it involved. But he also knew that they needed her more than ever, and having a lost hand was less of a handicap than his own...Poor girl.

Looking out the window Alexander could see what one could expect of the kind of weather which had forced them inside; flying debris and God's small wonders of nature, like rocks and twigs amongst other stuff, all blowing in the wind like Bob Dylan himself had turned into one of the four winds of the world. But as far as he could see there were no walkers out there, for now. That was good.

"Navy will be fine. She knows how to look after herself, she'll be back eventually..." The old veteran threw back to Manny, not looking away from the window as his words became whispers to himself; "...I hope..." But then he heard the voice of the fourth person left in the house, and a smile found itself placed on Mugsy's face, albeit a pained one. "Thank God, thought we'd lost you there Angel. Do you need something for the pain?"



Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper



Location: Okefenokee: D11 -> C10
Skills: Survival




"That can't be good...can it?" Nigel asked Robert with a sizeable portion of uncertainty at the fact that the nut known as Wayne had stopped singing. Was it really a bad thing, or not? Nigel didn't know, but Robert certainly appeared to think so with his concerned statement. Regardless this was not - for all Nigel "Hadrian" knew, he didn't know that many drugged people back in the old world - this was not normal for someone high as the top of Mount Vesuvius, so he started jogging. "Let's check it out."

The Neo-Roman Sporticus quickened his pace up the road as he came up to where Hank was standing, looking ahead at...no, it couldn't be. Another one? "I don't believe it. Seriously?" Nigel muttered audibly to himself, as befuddled as Hank had been. It was like all the main characters of a Greek play were meeting before an Oracle, awaiting the predictions of their future. But the more crucial concern wasn't the woman now approaching them.

No, that would be the small horde, and Wayne leading them right their way.

"Why are these things never easy? Does Wayne really have a death wish? Because I'm starting to think that he does." Nigel questioned Hank as he pulled off the shield from his back again and readied his gladius. This was starting to look less and less like the Battle of Alesia and more like the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest.
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