[center][h3][b][color=8493ca]Milo 'No-Name'[/color][/b][/h3]
[indent][color=gray]Kettler Mine[/color][/indent][/center]

Milo was walking mindlessly across the cavern of Kettler Mine, a bottle of beer in his hand with the cap freshly plucked off. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, simply boredom and frustration from being told off in his attempts to find Josiah. It had been a week since his last mission, and that’s what paid for his free lounging. The last thing he wanted to hear was any nonsense concerning pulling his weight. For now, he would enjoy the time-off. The bottle was near his lips, ready for the first sip before a voice pulled his attention away.

[color=FFD700]“My fellows…”[/color]

[color=8493ca][I]‘This motherfucker!’[/I][/color] Milo thought as he lowered his arm and began backing up as a crowd formed. He made his way to the back of the growing crowd, eyes scanning around as Josiah preached his words of peace. It was a respectful stance that was rudely interrupted, causing uncharacteristic frustrations to show on the Mutant Land’s leader. Back in his old camp, interrupting the leader was grounds for a fight-until-death. Here, they would go on to call it being [i]passionate[/i]. Milo didn’t fully understand it, instead he understood that the threat of the Republic and Blackwatch meant that his services were still going to be required. He also wasn’t that dumb to dismiss his own situation, they would ask no questions seeing his face. For now, this seemed to be the best place to lay his head, so he would patiently hear out what Josiah had to say during this calming silence.

A shadow flashed in the corner of his eye, a lone figure grabbing his attention atop the catwalks. An [color=662d91]enigma[/color], her dark hair and eyes alongside her clothing wrapped her into the shadows that surrounded her. He couldn’t fully make her out but still, it was something about her that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He squinted slightly, and took a step forward before a voice nearby snapped him out of his trance. It was the one everyone has been calling [color=FF00FF]’Nine’[/color]. Milo didn’t know her personally, but had seen her around in her weird uniform and robot-like mannerisms. Milo was just ugly as shit, but talk about being fuckin’ creepy with that one. Still, she must have some respectful skill to be surviving out here like the rest of them. The guy she was speaking to, however, he had never seen before. He was of similar age and height, with a similar rough-unkempt appearance. Their similarities would end there. This guy had more muscles and could actually be considered handsome, at least on a level Milo himself would never achieve. Milo heard their conversation by proxy instead of interest, but couldn’t help but notice the guy fidgeting with his necklace. It was the same way he caressed the ring of his dead lover. He sighed, and once [color=#FF00FF]Nine[/color] made her exit, Milo stretched his arm out, the beer now in front of [color=CD5C5C]Maverick[/color]. [color=8493ca]“Trade ya’ fa’ one of them smokes, yeah?”[/color]

He glanced back up at the catwalks, but the [color=662d91]enigma[/color] was gone. Or did she merely merge with the shadows? Who was she?