ONL

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Alexander tried to cut his meal into small pieces and eating it slowly, though it was hard to contain his enjoyment of the food they'd been so graciously given by Moralez and Mae. He was brought up a Catholic, though it was his post-war years and time with Judith that brought manners to a rowdy young man. This was a small piece of Heaven right there, and the God-fearing (if still unsure) man in Alexander didn't want to be disrespectful to either their cooks or God. But oh man was it hard to not down swallow the shrimps whole without chewing them.

When Beatrice silently joined the table to eat, Alexander gave but a brief look up at her as she sat down. It was clear to him that she wasn't there to talk, but not in a manner of ignoring him. This was their thing, part of why they got along so well. If there was one thing that Alexander missed from the ol' days, it was silence around friends. Not the awkward one that always followed around strangers, nor the dead silence you enforced in order to survive 'Nam or the end of the world. He missed the special silence around people you could enjoy it with. With Manny being the always talkative person he was, and him and Thalia talking over electronics, Beatrice was the one he could count on to just be with him. No small-talk, no digging in either one's past, just the company of a silent friend.

Alexander gave Beatrice a brief smile then, before turning back to his blessed meal. The old grunt was happy to fill his stomach with anything other than cat-food or whatever scraps they found. So when the quarantined group returned with Doc, only for him to begin acting up around the food, Alexander only gave the ensuing converstation a look over his shoulder, catching Ash giving him a nod and the raise of a cup to which Alexander returned it, before returning to his meal. When you were hungry, you listened to the cook before the doctor.

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Former Sauna Room -> Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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It was easy to see that the red-head now gone bald, Amelia, wasn't taking it lightly, even when she was rejoined by the other girl who Nigel assumed was close to her. How close, he didn't know, but it didn't really matter, like it didn't really matter how Riley was apparently a celebrity of some sorts way before The Gods threw caution to the wind and brought upon the end of the world. Nigel, when giving her a second look, thought that he might have recognized her from one of his students stickers on their books, not that any name came up. And it mattered little to him, especially then. Even if he was going to ask her about her past, doing it around Amelia was not the right time. So he gave Shears a look as well, but let Doc do the talking.

Then it was time to return to the others and eat. Nigel "Hadrian" walk with the group back to the conference room, staying a few people away from Hank as not to having to talk to him. He'd had enough of that for a week, though there were sure to be darker days filled with "Sportacus" to come. But alas, some respite! As they entered the conference room, Nigel did hear the welcome from another unknown man, and especially the one to Hank. Nigel forced down a laugh, ending up coughing it down at Hank's reaction. Thankfully he wasn't the only punching bag in the room.

Nigel too was more than ready for a hot meal, but wasn't as eager to join seats with Wayne as Hank was. Not if he could help it. A Roman legionaire might want to ride alongside a Gaulish cavarlyman into hostile territory, but not in his own house. Wait, perhaps that's what Hank looked like? A Gaul? As Nigel "Hadrian" thought of the possibilites, he almost absentmindledy filled a plate of various fishes and sides with little regards to his pre-apocalypse tastes. Perhaps it was the hunger that kicked in for real now that they had food. Bread and Circus, but with less Circus. Then again like he had said in the sauna, he wasn't that pickish those days.

With a plate full of things he thought he wouldn't eat before the Outbreak, Nigel "Hadrian" went over Erica as she spoke with Doc sitting in a chair. He didn't say anything as he began eating the first real meal he'd had in ages, but tried to restrain himself from eating too fast. The Doc was probably right, from what he had gathered and from Erica's words, that this could go bad. "Seems like fair punishment to me." Nigel eventually said, giving a look at Wayne and Hank, then back at Erica. "How do I look?"

PXO: Alpha Academy

@ZarkunYou mean to say we don't have a place we publicly shame those of us who screw up?

PXO: Alpha Academy

@ZarkunWell ain't I a silly goose? I'll go change it ASAP and promptly hide in the corner of shame.

PXO: Alpha Academy

Bentley

Level: 3
Day/Time: Day Three - Evening
Location: The Forbidden Lands Temple -> Heading out the exit and towards the bridge.
Tag: @Holy Soldier @DracoLunaris @DJAtomika @Tenma Tendo
Experience: ////////// ////////// ////////// (0/30)

The talk going on before The Boss's honestly quite unforseen explosion of words was still important, and Bentley gave his full attention to each other as they spoke. Delsin with his smoke-related abilities was impressive to witness, even for a mastermind turtle who had a lifetime of thieving experience under his shell...belt...you get the point. Taking note of it as it surely would come into use somewhere in his evolving plan, he turned to Piper as the robot privateer asked about his Binocums. "Well sure, Piper! Just give me a moment."

While Tiz explained his own powers, even if he didn't as proud of them as he perhap should, Bentley looked back and forth between him and from whatever he was doing. He was hard at work, but could still talk. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Tiz. Examining the Colossi might be just what we need in a situation like this. Never underestimate the strategic superiority of gathering intelligence!" The green turtle proclaimed, just as he pulled up several pairs of binoculars, each in a metallic chrome and with a microhpone attached to it. Handing one to everyone on his team. He was about to explain their use, when Boss finally exploded.

Bentley had been around shurt-fused people before: Murray used to take any opportunity to pick a fight, and Mugshot had been a walking boxing-glove with serious anger issues. But the Boss? The others would see Bentley visibly shaken by his words, even retreating a little into his shell so that only his nose and glasses were visible from above the waist. Bentley was not used to people being that angry.

Frightened by the harsh words (and cursewords!), Bentley did dare interrupt him, though several answers were formulating inside his mind. One of the more witty ones was that not all games had a protagonist, either several or none as in a strategy game. The Boss had a good point on that however, and Bentley wished he could have answered. But he didn't know. He didn't know how far it was from the temple and over to the colossi, but then again who knew how time or distance worked in that universe? In the end Bentley piped in in a quiet voice, slowly raising his head from his protective shell.

"...I don't think anyone said Dormin was a god..."

The eire silence was louder, to put it in poetic terms. Even for the Boss and his loud shouting, Dormin didn't answer any of his or Bentley's questions. Nothing. Not even a sigh or a breath. Bentley looked from the Boss and over to the other members of the gang/team, and back at the Boss. He wasn't a vocal person himself, but if he was a team leader, then he needed to pick up the mantle like he had when Sly and Murray got arrested. Even if he was scared.

"If I may be so blunt, Mr. Boss, I don't think we have much choice." Bentley spoke up, wheeling over to him as he calibrated his own Binocucom to connect with whatever comms-device Boss used. "It doesn't look like Dormin will answer us, and so far the only way he says he'll talk is for us to defeat the colossi. So unless you can find a way to make him talk, I don't think he'll give us any more information." he continued, the green mastermind turtle wheeling all the way up to the short-fused human and speaking to him a hushed whisper. "...and I think we should continue this conversation outside. Just so you know, I don't trust him either."

Bentley rolled away from Boss again, making his way back to his own team and pulling out his Shell-tablet to look at a map of the area. Looking at Delsin to his earlier question, Bentley patted his beloved wheelchair and gave a perhaps cocky smile. "Us two have gone vaste distances before, so we'll be fine." Bentley assured Delsin, looking back at the map and then towards the exit. "Doesn't look like we have much else left here to do. Let's go gang, follow me."

With that, Bentley began to wheel himself towards the exit, wanting to get outside and towards their mission. He needed to get up there and do some proper recon in order to figure out the rest of his plan. As he pushed himself out in the wheelchair, he looked back at Tiz whom he figured might have the most need for a tutorial with the Binocucom. "So you see, you press that button and hold it up to your eyes. No, not that button, that actives the microphone. Okay that one."

The Empire State

@Dinh AaronMk Okay new claims. If accepted, then I'll get going on writing my application.

ONL's new claims

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Robert Adler

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Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
Skills: N/A

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"Oh...Jesus." Robert uttered quietly in shame as he recognized the words Adelaide spoke and the events she referred to. Yeah he had heard about Murder High and the series of murders that happened up there in Grimm. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he could even remember the first incident ten years earlier, though it was but a vauge flickering image in comparison to what Adelaide referred to. At first he had even doubted it himself, that it had been a single murderer that returned. Most times it was a copy-cat, not the same person or persons unknown.

Working in the business of insurance, he had gotten word from his colleagues of the increase in life-insurance purchases around that time, and the thought of it all being a scam had crossed his mind. But even a cynical old man like him didn't sink as low as that, and felt sorry for those being both victims and bystanders to Murder High. And now that Adelaide had basically told him that she wasn't overreacting, that she herself and her now dead friend had been there, he felt a bang in his chest of remorse. "Shit Adelaide, I'm sorry. I didn't..."

Robert wasn't good with words. Hadn't been since his university-days, but he felt compelled to apologize to her for what he'd said. Apologize, but also prod further. Something wasn't adding up. "I'm sorry about what I said, I'm just...it's just...I don't know, are you implying...No sorry, do you think Marc's death is connected to those in Grimm? How? And why Marc, did he have any enemies?"

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Second Deck (Mahendra's quarters -> Hallway)
Skills: N/A

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Mahendra's waking hour was far from as comfortable as he had exected one to be when traversing the Nile on a dedicated and reasonably luxurious passanger steamer, as the sunlight shined upon his sleeping face. Now the light that woke him up he was no stranger to, but the shivers? Mahendra woke up to find himself cold to the bone, shivering and clattering teeth a little as he came to an consciousness after a long rest. He rose from his slumber, looking around the room for the source of this winter's cold that could be flowing through his university window back in England.

But he was on a steamboat in Egypt, and the chill was his own fault. Mahendra slowly got out of bed, remembering the past night's events with growing clarity as he went on with his traditional Hindu morning-ritual for a new day; cleaning and praying to the Gods. Eventually he went on to shiveringly get dressed. It was slower than usual, but what would you except? That morning Mahendra dressed in a blue-striped three-piece suit, though that did little to alliviate the spine cold that had grasped around his very soul. He really needed some warm drink to warm up. Perhaps the burning sun of the Nile would warm up his cold corpse?

That's when he noticed it. Lying on the floor, having been slipped underneath his quarter's door was a ticket. Mahendra picked it up, reading it was his new ticket for the one he lost yesterday. At least the crew were competent at something, he thought as he unlocked the door, exited his room and locked the door before he stood out in the hallway. Mahendra only hoped that his cold disposition would not bring a bad view of the others upon him. Especially not the Lord Major, as a former soldier of the Empire. The others might view him as weak...

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Richard Barker

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Location: Lower Deck (Richard's quarters)
Skills: N/A

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"...ugh...Will you for the love of God stop that racket!"

Richard hadn't been dreamning anything particular that night, though he wasn't a person that enjoyed dreams. They usually revolved around some unsolved case, his missing daughter or the nearly-losing-his-nose-event back in New York, all cranked up to a hundred and seriously messing up his sleep. Tonight he hadn't dreamt anything, at least nothing he could remember as he woke up to the sound of a thousand plates breaking, so he couldn't complain about that. It was the breaking plates that made his morning sour.

Now he was a New Yorker, used to most disturbances an overly-filled city of dubious people could offer, but the private detective was equally used to shouting at said disturbances. Waking up from he commotion outside, Richard rose slowly and annoyed from bed, staring at his quarter's door with half-closed eyes and his hair looking like a Welsh sheep. "Jesus Christ, who put that bright idea in their head of breaking every plate on a passanger steamer in the morning?" He mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands and ruffling his hair. He looked at his wrist watch lying on the sink, it was sometime before 6 am. Time to get up he guessed.

Richard started his normal routine of the waking day, perhaps with the exception of thinking about his dream; he hadn't dream, so so far the morning had been okay except for the circus outside. He washed his face and hair, combing his hair back in his usual fashion before he turned to the part he always dreaded. Shaving. After the Portugese Barber Incident, he had always done his shaving himself. He couldn't pass a barber's shop without taking those walking strides that much quicker and avert his eyes from it. But he still had to shave, or else he'd look like the hobo he was in danger of becoming. So with extreme caution and dread in his body, Richard started shaving, glad that he was alone in his quarters without anyone seeing him like that; afraid.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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The thoughtful look he was given by Ash didn't go past Alexander, who anticapated an brewing awkward silence. It felt oddly similar to an episode from long ago, over a year. When he had first encountered living, friendly people after that harsh winter, he had shoved his foot so deep in his mouth that he couldn' really blame their weariness towards him; Thalia and Lola. He wasn't good at first-impressions it seemed. But Ash did talk back to Alexander, he was hesitant to say anything wrong. "Really classical, yes."

But then Alexander was surprised to hear Ash say those lasts words and giving him his hand. The old veteran pulled the side of a smile as he accepted the hand, giving Ash a good, firm handshake worty of a soldier like himself. "Alexander Polawski. Pleasure to meet you." Ol' Mugsy said back to Ash, letting go of the hand and looking down at the record playing. "Can't deny your father's taste. My own couldn't stand to listen to this when it came out in...'68 was it?" He continued, suddenly finding the situation of speaking about his father after so many years to be...unfamiliar.

While Alexander Spoke with Ash about the record playing, another man had joined their ranks of classical rock-listening, another one that Alexander didn't know. He'd seen him on the bus to the camp, in the showers with the baby, and he thought he'd seen him with the foreign woman. As he spoke it wasn't far fetched to guess Ash and Jack knew each other, so when he too introduced himself to Alexander, another fearful lump of repeating the first TANK meeting dissappeared. "Alexander. Good to meet you, Jack." Alexander had to agree, this was really something, even if he wouldn't get what Jack and Ash could be meaning. "Already said this to my group, but if someone's going to weather this storm, it's the military. So yeah, its really something."

The foriegn lady then came up to to the group, giving Alexander a brief nod that he returned in silence, though with a typical smile of an old man that tried to be nice. He gave her space to speak with Jack, as the food arrived. The arrival of the carts of food with much less fanfare that it truly deserved, brought Alexander's attention to the apron-wearing woman called Cook and her helped the Goat, as they pushed the two carts into the room. Ash had excused himself to go get started, but Mugsy wouldn't have thought twice about it; he wanted a piece of that pie too! Alexander wobbled over to the table on his peg leg, not as fast as everyone else who might go grab some food before him. Tatiana had gone to get something, while the loud-mouthed Beacup had in a surprising move helped her and the baby. Thalia had served herself in just the way Alexander hoped she would, she deserved it, while Manny was more modest in his approach.

Then as Alexander approached the table, he followed Ash's suite and grabbed a glorious cup of coffee, so much better than the instant-cup he had gotten from Thalia and Lola so long ago. And then it was the food; fish, crabs, shrimps and potatoes, all of which Alexander truly loved, but he still only took a more humble amount than Thalia, perhaps Manny too. "Thank you, both of you." He thanked Mae and Moralez, giving Ash a brief look as he stood with just his coffee, before bringing his cup of coffee and fish-plate over to a table and sat down there alone. He wanted to talk with his own people again soon, and Ash was a man he could see himself bonding with too. But first he did two things he hadn't done for a while.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Alexander crossed himself, and then started with the meal. It sure was better than any chow or MRE he'd had in his life.

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Former Sauna Room)
Skills: N/A

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It was quite the character that entered the already quite packed room full of yellow/orange-branded people, ready for the humiliation of the masses. At the one hand it was Shears himself, dramatically entering the room with clippers and a doctors bag like he was the main antagonist for this Greek play. Who knew? Perhaps all of them were unknowing actors in a tragedy about the fall of Humanity? Sure felt like it. Then at the other hand, as the shaving commenced, it was the redhead, who Nigel couldn't help but feel sorry for. A part of him sighed at her running to the other side of the room and hiding her face, since they had much else to worry about than one's hair those days.

Then again, she did seem scared and/or sad because of all this. It wasn't a pretty situation to be in. Surrounded by strangers and choosing to shave their head, it sure did feel like defeat.

Nigel "Hadrian" looked back at Hank as he told him he'd go next, then going in for the shave. Nigel looked at him as his old man hair and bear was cut off, even beautifully so when he thought about it. He smiled for himself at the sight of bald-man Hank, looking something like a really, really weird Japanese commercial one of Nigel's students had shown him back when the internet was still a thing. Or he looked like a Roman statue, but with more nose and sarcasm. Nigel "Hadrian" would probably look the same if he took the shave, and the thought of doing the oils for three days sounded tempting; three days with Hank and Wayne. Was it worth it?

It wasn't worth staying away from the others, especially Erica for three days though, so Nigel went up to Shears and took a seat, telling him "I'll take the full shave. Better get this over with." "Have a seat," Shears said before getting to work. It wasn't long until he was done. It was obvious this man had been at this a while. Going through the same process as he had with others, it became muscle memory almost at this point. "Next time hopefully I can give ya something you like," the old man laughed before motioning for Hadrian to head over to where Amelia had been told to sit.

"That would be good, my bald head fits me worse than the previous one you had. Thank you, Tonsor." He said to Shears, looking up at him in the end as he realised he might not understand. "...It's Latin for barber..." Nigel explained in case he cared, though only Erica had shown an interest to his - understandable eccentric - hobby, so he quickly followed suite after Amelia and Hank over to the other side of the room. Hank tried to comfort her, to which Nigel had to give the bald statue-man some credit. "Hank's right, for once. It's better this way. At least you can be with your people instead of being alone." Nigel tried to comfort her too, surprised to find himself doing with Hank out of all people.

The Empire State

@Dinh AaronMk Okay, I'll try to tidy up my claims then. A single whole borrow and perhaps a few islands, will do!

The Empire State

@Dinh AaronMk Are these claims acceptable, or have I overstretched myself? Or am I allowed to include some fine trading outposts down the East Coast further? ^^

ONL's claims