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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"I'll bother you when I need that root filling or my dental-hygiene refreshed, don't you worry Manny." Alexander replied to Manny with a growing smile, laughing at his own words that for once in a rare moment funny. The old behaviour of Alexander pre-Eden resurfaced for a moment, which felt good for Alexander, though he at first actively tried to ignore the first thing Manny had said. Alexander didn't really want to talk about "soldier boy" and his yelling, even if it had caused his flashback. But he felt he couldn't ignore it, and only gave it a brief mention. "I've had worse."

The smell that punctured the conversational bubble was bad, all right. Its shear volum didn't help either, which Alexander couldn't ignore. It was real bad, and the old veteran shrank his whole face at the very smell of it. It reminded him of something bad, something burning or rotting for a very long time in a certain wet climate, perhaps not as bad but it was a tough competition. Alexander swatted his hand before his nose, trying to get the smell out of his face as he noticed Father Atticus finally returning to the quarantied survivors, and the younger, now bald guy in the smaller group shooting Wayne daggers with his eyes. Alexander could understand the look once he heard the room-assignments.

Alexander himself was put together with Jack, the father of the young boy and husband of Tatiana, their child, both of which had appeared to be calm and nice...and another newcomer? Alexander shot Atticus a surprised look. There had come more survivors that same day? Had they followed the caravan with them all rounded up back here? "Who's the newcomer, Father?" Alexander asked Atticus, before his attention was turned to Beatrice and Ash joining the little circle. He gave the fellow Stones fan a good nod and smile, letting him and Manny talk as soon-to-be roommates. He knew the drill, best to get on the good side of those you shared bunks with. Alexander had been there, done that in the Army. He nodded to both Manny and Ash at the mention of extreme injuries, silently looking down at his amputated leg and sighing. Manny had saved their lives. He was the damned best dentist Alexander had ever known.

Alexander looked at the young soldier, Hunter as Manny mentioned him and talking some sense into him. What had happened to him that had caused him to end up like that? Broken, like himself? Alexander couldn't help but put himself in his shoes, looking up at Manny again. "Go easy on the kid, will you?"

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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

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Nigel "Hadrian" couldn't fathom first what was causing the infernal noise befitting the realm of Hades, but Wayne's thundering laughter was a clear giveaway at what was going on. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Nigel that it was a fart, and a titanic one it was indeed, borne into this world by no other than Wayne "Caligua" himself. At first Nigel only shook his head in disbelief and turned back to Erica to talk about the movie, before the smell hit him.

"Oh God! Now I know what burning war pigs smell like." Nigel uttered as he wafted the VHS to fan as much smell as he could away, though it was as futile as the boulder of Sisyphus. Trying to not die of the shear smell alone or Wayne's laughter, Nigel stared annoyingly at him as the 'Priest of Athens' finally returned. "Finally, I'm looking forward to some good sleep." Then came the list of who were to sleep in which room. Atticus was correct, Nigel had hoped he could chose who to share quarters with, or in the very least who he wouldn't. His hopes were shattered once he heard his name called up. Room 3: Wayne, Nigel and Hank. Of course, the gods surely were smiling in amusement at their little prank on Nigel "Hadrian". He sighed, trying to get comfortable with what was becoming his fate:

Being the verbal punching bag of Hank and Wayne, whatever the cost may be. Even suffication from Wayne's poison gas.

Nigel "Hadrian" was reminded of that thought; dying from sleeping in a room farted in. Somewhere far back in his mind he started digging through hours of watching television, his eyes wandering the room as he looked at the various groups of people sleeping together. A newcomer? He wondered who that might be, and his own curiosity was reflected in one of the old men's question, the one missing a leg and with a home-made pegleg...Mythbusters! The leg looked like something they could have made, at least Adam Savage with his personality. Nigel thought further back to an episode, the one about dying from your own farts.

As far as he could remember, they had tested it over and over again, each time increasing the variables in proper Mythbusters' sense of over-doing it. Nigel "Hadrian" breathed out as he remembered their verdict; Myth Busted. As he was certain that he wouldn't die from lack of oxygen that night, Nigel put on the movie he'd picked out and sat back down again with Erica, now that they had their rooms. "Yeah me too. Must have been, I don't know, ten years since I last watched it." he told Erica, noticing Hank's smile which normally couldn't have been good, but now? Nah, Nigel wanted to just watch the movie with Erica and whoever else wanted to watch, preferably in silence and not smelling like the sewers of Rome. "You pick the next movie then, Erica. Unless you Hank has any objections to that?"

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Robert Adler

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Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books: Vault -> Back Room)
Skills: Law, Research

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Robert stood over the table with the FBI-files as Adelaide went to leave, telling him to close the vault door behind him if he left. The door would lock on it's own? Robert swallowed hard at those words, his heart beating a little faster at the thought of that. Locked. Locked down in the vault that he had no idea of how to get out of. While it wasn't really small enough to push him out of it and follow suit after Adelaide immediatly, it was claustrophobic enough to give him second thoughts. But he swallowed down hard again, giving Adelaide a determined nod as she left. "Sure thing, I won't be long."

He still had folders to go through, paperwork to read and shit to solve. Just another day at the job, and like his immense lack of motivation for his normal work, he would push on through. Robert stacked the two folders he'd already read to the side, and picked up another one. This one was different. As the insurance-fraud agent opened it up and started reading, he raised his brows in confusion, his eyes scanning what his mind couldn't read. "Arabic...what just in Hell is this folder doing here?" This wasn't making any sense to him, much less with the picture of an old woman with white hair and clear lines in her face. The picture itself was quite old too, so what just the blazin' had this to do with the case? It was nonsense to Robert. In fact, it made a whole lot more sense to him if these folders weren't connected at all, but just random folders Marc and Lawson had grabbed in a hurry. But was that the right answer?

Robert didn't dwell long on it, closing the folder and stacking it with the others he'd read before making his way out of the vault. No way in Hell that he was staying there alone, not after he'd been told he could get locked up in there. He shuddered at the thought, closing the vault door behind him, glad that he wasn't on the inside as it locked up. Robert could hear Adelaide talking with the guy he presumed was the tech-wizard, and got up the stairs to follow their voices to the back room, where the scrawny guy was getting to work. "How long will it take for you to...do your stuff, kid?" Robert asked Rapture matter-of-factly, leaning agains the door frame before turning to Adelaide. "Might sound bonkers, but you don't happen to read Arabic?"

🧚🏻‍♀️ 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 continued his attempt at not acting up after Wayne's assesment of him, the attempt being somewhat success now that storm was blowing past and the rain letting up. No more screaming or shouting, no more loud-mouthed theatrics of a man clearly off his rockers, only a room filled with exhausted survivors and two guards. One of them clearly didn't think too highly of them, the other so too but a whole lot quieter. It was during Panama's harsh words that Alexander realized he had spilled on himself, making the old veteran attempt to clean it up with his sleeve. If not, perhaps he would have appeared as useless as Panama made him out to be. And he had promised Auntie not to make such a mess of himself.

But those words, that they must have had it easy? Sadly not the first time Alexander had been told that, yet it still hurt the old man, if not as harsly as before. When he and his kind came back from the war, what most people seemed to cling onto was what the soldiers had done over there. The shooting, killing, dying, endless manouvering in an infinite hellscape of green. Like those students who surrounded him at the library. Very few asked them how they felt. They must have thought that because they went over there at all, they got used to it. That it was easy. Far from it, and now those same words made the cycle whole again. But Alexander, forever the Grunt, gritted his teeth and swallowed the anger of a young man, doing his best to breath as Tatiana had instructed him to earlier.

Alexander didn't want to think about that anymore, and looking across the room at the other groups of people tending to their own. Ash with what he now thought of the 'original' group, the smaller one with the maniac, and Beatrice and Hunter now halting the hostilies for now. Did Alexander blame him for his outburst? He sure as day didn't like it, but who knew what he'd been through, so perhaps the old veteran could understand? Finally Alexander looked up at Manny as he came and sat down with them, giving his fellow Baby Boomer a half-forced, half-tired smile. "I'll be fine, don't you worry about me, Manny. I'm just glad to finally have a good place to sit, and this one sure beats the Chicago night-bus. Are you okay?" Alexander answered the old dentist-turned-medic, quickly turning the question back to Manny as he leaned back in his chair, trying to relax too.

"So we're talking more like Michael or Kushiel then? Either way, you're stuck being the regular one to me." Alexander said with less of a forced smile to his fellow cripple, chuckling quietly. "Damn right. I got your back." Old Mugsy responded briefly to her, sighing quietly again. She was right, they had to stick together in these troubling times. Safe from the Undead, but not safe from others, not yet. Alexander nodded to her assesment of Wayne and his outburst, glad that she brought some positive thoughts to his earlier fears. If Wayne made an ass out of himself, that meant Alexander could remain under the radar. He had been good at that back when you'd wish some great apocalypse swept away the crowded streets of Chicago. Well, he got better at it.

Alexander continued to calm himself down while seated, still shaking ever so slightly with his hands as he took a small sip of his coffee, taking another look at the room. That's when he noticed Ash talking with Beatrice, wondering what they were actually talking about. Alexander looked between Thalia and Manny, as if to ask if they knew. Out of badly mixed bag of people that were in the quarantine, the old veteran found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe Ash would understand him?

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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

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So that's what they were thinking back of them? After Wayne had been done with his character descriptions of the whole Greek cast, it was Panama's turn to cast his judgement upon them. Like a Roman Patrician of good family and stock viewing a gladiatorial game for what must have been the hundreth time, he had the guts to insinuate that they had had it easy before they got there. Nigel could only give Panama and Major a very brief look of annoyance, even something akin to spite at their words, but he remained silent. For now. At one hand this group had been protected by their walls and fared much better than Nigel "Hadrian" and his own people, so in his mind they had had it anything but "easy". Tall walls make soft men, and vice versa. Then again, was this how Nigel himself had thought when he was in their old settlement? Perhaps that was partly why Nigel "Hadrian" kept silent, even in annoyance. Partly he was getting tired of it all, and partly he was determined to prove them wrong.

Nigel "Hadrian" looked away from their two guards and over at Beatrice and Hunter, watching as the embodiment of Boudica let go of her prisoner and Hunter go get more coffee after his defeat. For now the confrontation looked as if it had cooled down enough for them to be left alone, which at the moment was good enough for Nigel. He was still uncertain of what to think of these people, and making friends and allies wasn't always easy in a world ruled by the sword. Nigel looked at Wayne as he repeated his own question, the reminder that they would be sharing rooms with for their stay in quarantine put back into his mind. On top of that list were the grumpy duo of old men and Hunter, but the others he didn't know what to think.

But his earlier thought of a force-ruled world was reintroduced to him with Hank's now famous sarcasm, and quite seriously on the condecending side of the spectrum. Nigel shot daggers at Hank with his eyes, turning his head from looking at him and over to Erica for support in his verbal flogging. At this point Nigel shouldn't be surprised at how Hank managed to find new ways of getting on his nerves, every time exploring new paths of a labyrinth of wits and jabber, this time finding the creativity to attempt bringing in more soldiers to the breached. Nigel switched looking at Hank with his now accustomed look of "I'm getting tired of your shit, Hank", and only listening to him while looking away. It was a miracle that he wasn't jabbing back at the Shovel Knight with his own tactics, or it was by sheer willpower and experience from his teaching years.

The worst part of it all? Hank was sounding a whole lot like Nigel himself when he met Robert. The good sameritan met by the ruthless Roman soldier, each on different paths on their way to survival. One with good intentions, the other with a good sword. What would Robert have done in this situation? In his situation. Then it was the point that Hank, once again to his great and utter surprise, wasn't completely wrong. The world outside those protective walls was indeed ruled by pure force. Rome was built upon the labours of soldiers, makers and experts of war. Still, pure force could only keep a empire together for so long without the power of words.

"Perhaps...perhaps." Nigel "Hadrian" answered Hank in short after a while of contenplative silence, before looking up at him again with a small smile on his face. "It's a nice change to hear you say something good about us for once." he added, shaking his head at the words he said, never having thought he'd utter them. Perhaps Hank too wasn't so bad? Some day Nigel might say something nice back. At least until he mentioned him by his 'favourite' name, that was. "I'll take you up on that offer, as long as I don't have to actually pay attention to...whatever that is." Nigel "Hadrian" said back to his offer, rising up from his seat and giving Erica quick look. "I'll be right back"

Nigel then made his way over to where the VHS tapes were stored, his eyes scanning far and wide at the wide variety of films at their disposal. He didn't have anything particular in mind that he wanted to watch, except action or horror. He was tired, and perhaps Hank was right in that he needed to lighten up. They had a long week in front of them, and so he looked for something light-hearted to watch, finally finding some good ones. Some 80's movies, John Hughes, MASH. In the end Nigel pulled out the one he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. Making his way back to his own group, he sat down beside Erica and took the time to read at the back of the VHS. "The Princess Bride. Now this brings back memories. Have you seen it?"

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

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Benha (Trains to Athribis)
Skills: Animal handling

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And so they were on their way. The train began it's titanic labour of moving itself and all the wagons down the man-made path of steel and wood, off to Athribis. Their destiny! Mahendra waited as said for everyone of the party to board the train, giving both Lauren and Nora a polite smile in return for their gestures; Nora's slight smile, an uncommon sight of the frail yet sharp-minded lady to Mahendra at the very least, and Lauren's conversation. Yes he had been informed of Vera's ill health that morning, but any further elaboration had avoided him and been avoided by him. It was not proper to question about such things, at least not until it was anything serious.

With everyone onboard, Mahendra followed suit and came to watch as the Fellowship found their seats. The Lord Major and Gene, Bella and J.C., Lauren and Nora. He himself would be sitting alone, it would seem. It was of no concern though, he had stayed behind after all, and the party was not spread out too thin, so conversation was a valid possibility. "Present and accounted for, Lord Major Sir." Mahendra assured the Lord Major at his tally, while he found himself an empty seat, picking up pieces of the conversation about horses.

That's when another creature joined the Fellowship, causing J.C. to react in a not-so gentlemanly manner in front of them as to the cat. Bella on the other hand appeared to find some amusement in the occurence, calling the cat J.C.'s new friend and mentioning Bastet's liking to him. Bastet, another connection to their Fellowship and the mysterious happenings befalling them. Mahendra hoped it was not a troubling connection, but turned his attention to the cat itself. It didn't appear to show any signs of malice intentions, simply wishing for a lap to sit in. "Interesting creatures most certainly. Pretty to behold as well." Mahendra commented, smiling at the cat and presenting his own lap or the seat beside himfor the cat to sit in.

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Richard Barker

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Location: Benha (Trains)
Skills: People-reading

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At first Richard's inquiry looked as frutiful as an olive garden in the middle of a Canadian winter, from the guy's confused look. Great, the first catch of the day was an old boot, so to speak. Or was it an odd look instead? It didn't take long for the man to answer Richard back in good old English, the reasoning behind it lost on Richard. He probably needed to practice his Arabic after so long off the street. The answer in English was just as disappointing as the odd look. Of course. Of course the man selling the tickets wouldn't have any information prudent to their investigation, how typical!

Richard sighed annoyingly at their lack of progress, only to be given a new thread to hang their investigation on. "American's running the sites you say? What sites? Athribis or Leontopolis?" Richard questioned back at the man, reading his best in search for the man's intentions. Was he like everyone else and lying straight to his face, good at it or telling the truth. But in his search, Richard had to conclude that he was telling the truth, and jumped onto the next part of the conversation. Buying tickets.

"What do you say, Faye? Want to take a train ride into the sunset?" Richard asked Faye, starting to pull out his wallet. She was his partner. Despite him not always liking it, they were all in this together, and taking decisions without her not a good idea. Even if she was a bit naive sometimes. Richard's wallet was from as hefty as it once had been, the weight re-shuffled to other parts of his body, though he still had some cash. "Great...for once the trains had to be on time...When's the next train leaving then, pal?"

🦄 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 yeah, heard THAT one a few times myself." Robert had to say out loud with a cynical chuckle, at the fact Adelaide had been told the papers were lost. It wasn't in on itself, not to Robert anyway, but in his profession you'd be a millionaire if you got a dollar every time you were given that excuse. Too bad Robert had opted out of that bet, and was still stuck with the same pay he had for so many years. But what Adelaide said stuck with him. Paperwork didn't just disappear or gotten lost, not those kinds of papers. Like the medical records, they posed themselves as more paperwork for Robert to dig up.

Speaking of paperwork, Robert started evaluating that situation as Adelaide went to answer the kid at the intercom. It was her establishment, not his. Leaning forward with his hands firmly planted at the table with the files, he quickly tried to think of the best approach to get hold of ol' Lady Fisher's medical records. He toyed with the idea of calling up someone in his office for a favour, giving them the old excuse of "Nah, you don't want to know. It's just as boring as it sounds. It always is.". That however was the least direct approaching, which as Adelaide finished speaking with the Wentworth kid and spoke to Robert, he locked onto.

Go straight to the source. Well not entirely straight to the source, that would be Patty Fisher herself. Next best source the, the bureaucrats; Either they could attempt to get the records from the State Records Department, the county of Grimm, Indiana, or her relative. Only known relative Robert saw before him was the Wallace character, and he wouldn't be talking anytime soon. "Think we've got time to visit the county office in Grimm? Got some records to dig up."

Looking up at Adelaide, Robert pushed himself off the table and stood straight, scratching his head after removing one of the gloves. "One of the pros of having connection within the business. Customers are always right, but friends you care about. Hope he knows more about this techno-gizmo stuff that either of us then." he told Adelaide, looking back at the vault and all it's technology, then at the folders scattered around on the table. "Two folders down, several to go. We got time to read while we're going to Grimm, hope you don't get car-sickness."

🧚🏻‍♀️ 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 never got used to having those flashback-moments where he had no idea where he was or what he did, and probably never would. Few that ol' Mugsy knew before the End Times had gotten used to or over having those moments, but damn if some of them were good at hiding it from the outside world. Normally Alexander counted in that category, but not so much today. Alexander looked to his side to find Thalia helping him along, assuring him nothing bad had happened.

Nothing too bad had been said.

"Okay...must be the exhaustion or something..." Alexander flatly said to Thalia, getting helped into a chair for him to relax his old bum in. He gave her a tired smile, looking in brief surprise at the coffee cup that was his...was it? "Thanks Thalia, you're an angel to ol' Mugsy." Alexander took the cup and held it firmly in both hands, trying to convince himself that it was indeed his own cup. His hands however didn't completely agree with him, shaking ever so slightly as he held the cup tightly, almost unnoticable.

That's when the intervention began. One by one, the crazed-looking guy with the smaller group began his rant about everyone in the room. Everyone including his group; Beatrice, Thalia, Manny, and himself. Alexander 'Mugsy' Polawski, the veteran. Wayne's description of Alexander was short, but spot on. Alexander didn't deny it, he really did have some deep shit of various issues, formalized by some clever egg-heads safe home in the Pentagon as PTSD. He'd seen shit worse than your darkest nightmares, things he'd never wish upon the worst of his enemies. But Alexander never spoke of it, never giving anyone a hook for them to cling their doubts about him onto. And now Wayne had done that very thing, after Alexander had had his moment.

Alexander's hands started shaking more, the cup in his hands spilling some of the coffee onto his robe and legs, as his eyes were locked into Wayne. Why did he have to say those things, those horrible things? "I don't like that guy...He's full of shit, I'll tell you." Alexander managed to whisper through gritted teeth, all his strength in that moment forcing his hands to not shake as they did. This was the very reason he liked his people; Manny might have asked some questions, but they always knew when to back off. Perhaps Alexander lacked the strength that Ash showed by talking to his people? Perhaps he was too old and broken to be helped?

Perhaps he was simply scared. Fear, fear was one hell of a friend to be stuck with.

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: Basic Psychology, Teaching

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It looked like Nigel "Hadrian"'s attempt at pleading to the common sense of the Conference room had failed to spur people into action. Typical, people never listened to him. As he had taken some steps towards Beatrice and Hunter on the floor, the two had so far not given up in their struggle to assert their wills. Hunter couldn't get free from the Amazon's grip, and Beatrice hadn't let go of the slave Helot. And the guard's weren't prepared to do anything. Great, just great.

Nigel "Hadrian" was ready to intervene personally in spite of what Panama said of him, when Wayne took center stage of the new act in a Greek comedy. It was in true fashion of a dramatic play, with Wayne as the herald who introduced each character to take part in tonight's viewing. Everyone from his own beloved Hank, to Ash the leader of the bigger group and finally Wayne himself, they were described in a short but accurate manner that surprised even Nigel himself. But more than that, it was adding onto the pile of things that annoyed him about his group. So he was nothing but a stuck-up Roman who occationally was "badass"? Nigel at this point planted his face into his palm, the other crossed over his chest as support for the first.

"Why...why do I even try?" the Neo-Roman questioned himself, looking up at Wayne as he finished his tirade of exposition, before he shifted his attention to the new events of that night. Beatrice and Hunter were still going on the floor, Hank was being his pure self, Ash were making a sure speech to his group worthy a Roman Senator, while Erica was trying to calm Nigel down. Nigel took a deep, deep breath in while looking at Beatrice and Hunter for a moment. Was there any good way of ending this conflict? Going in and forcing them apart as he had originally planned seemed less good of an option as things were cooling down, and plenty of others had already gone over to talk to them. To Nigel, the best option seemed in his experience to stay back and observe for a little longer. If his presence re-ignited the fuse, then his absence was the most effective.

"...I really hope so, Erica. If not, he'd best head Hank's advice. Never thought I'd say that about Hank." Nigel told Erica, giving the room one last look while he tried to calm down while walking over to Erica, slowly. Though Hunter wasn't the only one who should listen to Hank. The Wayne had spoken about the whole room, only the gods knew how'd they react. Nigel sat down beside Erica, resting his head in his hands again and rubbing his face. "And where's the Athenian priest when he'd needed..."

🦄 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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For a moment Robert thought that Adelaide was going show her reasonable adult side, when she reassured him she wouldn't be leaving before the tech guy arrived. Robert would have breathed out, but instead he breathed more in as she said that he would join her. What? This was not what he had expected. None of this he had expected! Not that he had any time to interrupt her, as she finally began explaining some of the connections he was missing. And apparently, it led to Grimm. Everything led to Grimm.

"Okay, so she's the mother of the now dead Wallace guy, and this all is wrapped up in a big bad ball of a conspiracy involving Juno...right? Fine, sure I think...But what's so important about..." Robert finally interjected into the conversation as Adelaide went for the photo album, his patience running thinner than what his hairline would be in a few years if he kept working in the same, crappy job. His words were turned to nothing as his eyes finally read over the photocopied page, and he silently mouthed the words he read. Now he was eating his owns words. "I'll be damned..."

Robert read the page once over, then the headline again and again as he tried to think rationally, logically and professionally about all of this, as hard as that was from the very start. "So...who did she put to the big sleep, and how long ago? Before your time I take it." Robert asked, his mind hard at work to figure out what to do. And then it hit him hard. "Hey, I can try to get some of her medical files from her old insurance company. That could be useful, perhaps find something that could explain her getting comitted to the looney-bind and what happened to her afterwards." Robert suggested himself, eyes now looking up from the photocopied page and onto Adelaide, now sitting in a chair. She wasn't being optimistic about this whole ordeal, and neither was Robert. "Jesus...just how far down does this rabbit hole go? Really doesn't make me jump in joy to visit Grimm..."

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

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location: Benha (Trains)
Skills: N/A

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It was a pleasent surprise to be reunited with other members of the Fellowship, even if the surprise wasn't that surprising to Mahendra. But it was none the less a comforting feeling to be around people, friends if you'd like, that he'd been around for a little while at least. Especially around Bella, as her presence still discouraged him and his reputation. To him she answered that it had been a life-time since she last visited Athribis, making no further note of it as she talked to the Lord Major. Something about those words didn't sit right with Mahendra, ever the superstitious man if one took into consideration the unexaplainable events that had befallen them. It was probably nothing though.

His concerns were as brief as the desert was hot, as his attention was demanded by the other members of the Fellowship. The Lord Major commented on the technological marvels of the trains they were to ride in, while Lauren asked Mahendra how his morning had been. "It has been far better than last night, that much is certain. Except for a brief cold shiver, I am able and ready, thank you very much. I wish the same goes for you, Lauren?" Mahendra kindly spoke to Lauren, carefully placing the train-ticket in his wallet as they were getting ready to board the train. He did take note of Nora's assestment of their situation, and it too sent a brief shiver down his spine. Were they destined to be befallen by accidents, curses and death wherever they went? If the Gods so commanded, but Mahendra hoped not.

Mahendra remained outside of the train for the moment, letting the ladies of the Fellowship board the train before himself, as dictacted by the manners of a proper British gentleman. "Quite so, Sir! Ladies first. Lauren, Miss Kingston and Miss Benaszewski." Mahendra said to the remaining group outside the train, waiting for them to board it before he himself would.

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Richard Barker

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Location: Benha (Trains)
Skills: N/A

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Richard wasn't sure of what hurt the most. His nose or his professional pride. It could have been both for all he cared, because his nose was from as sturdy as it once had been back in his prime. After the barber knife incident and his now signature scar right up in his face like the lights on Broadway, it was both a mark of shame due to all the attention it drew to him, and now sore after his run-in with the telegraph pole from Hell. Then again he had made a fool of himself the whole day prior, and today was faring no better for the detective. If he kept up at this rate, perhaps he'd much rathed preferd what Faye suggested would happen to him. Death. At least then he wouldn't have to be the only sore loser around the block.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine...Let's just get there before anything else cathces up with us and screws us over three-fold." Richard answered Faye as he accepted her help to get back up on his feet, wiping the dust and sand of his pants and looking around like Faye did. He made damn sure to ignore her opening remarks about him needing her, but the fact that she hadn't been scratched this whole ordeal spoke loud enough. So far Faye hadn't seen anything if importance, which made Richard sigh audibly. "Just out luck. Come on then, let's go."

Richard made his way past the thin crowd of people and towards the line of folks getting their tickets to the trains. More specifically, he wanted to talk to the loud-mouthed fella yelling about the time the trains were leaving. "That guy sounds like our best shot so far. I'll ask him." Richard told Faye, having pulled out his cigarette and getting himself a good breath of fresh air before he promptly placed it back firmly between his lips. He went over to the stall and got in line for those buying tickets, figuring that going around and asking him would only give an already bad impression of the hard-boiled egg of a PI. Once it was his turn, Richard pulled off his sunglasses and looked at the man in the stall, starting his inquiry in his knowledge of Arabic. "صباح الخير ، السلام عليكم. هل تعرف أين يمكنني أن أسأل عن السيد جورج ج. جولد؟ الرجل الذي مول تلك القطارات الجميلة التي تبيع التذاكر لها؟ أنا أعمل من أجل عائلته ، في محاولة للحصول على بعض الأسئلة التي لم تتم الإجابة عليها.*"

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Robert Adler

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Location: Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
Skills: Law, Research

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"Great, looks like we'll have to do some dirt-digging then. I always researching people..." Robert said back to Adelaide at her answer, giving the Wallace-file one last quick glance before putting it down and looking for a new one. Damnit, who the hell was this Christopher Wallace guy? It annoyed Robert, but not enough for him to pick up another file and start reading. Like in a cliché crime-novel, a clue answered none of the questions, only added to them. Or perhaps? Adelaide seemed to react as she read over his shoulder, but said little.

"Alrighty then, who do we have here?" Robert opened the file that looked the oldest, figuring it was as good a file as any of the others. If he didn't recognize the newest guy, perhaps someone older would give a different result? Opening it up carefully, as Robert knew how to handle fragile paper from his work, he stared down at another face, text written down below it. "Nope, no dice here either." This one was an old photo, real old. "Margaret Sanger, political agitator slash radical. Connections to that Rockerfellah' and...you're shitting me. Juno again? Who the hell is Aqueduct?" Robert asked himself, clearly not pleased that none of these clues were adding up to him. Adelaide didn't help either.

"Wait, hold up! Hold up a minute here. What's so important in Grimm that you're leaving all of this? And who's Patty Fischer?" Robert put down the old file with less care than the previous one, his focus totally on Adelaide at this point and her sudden desire to up and leave. "What do you see that I'm clearly failing to see here? You're not just going to leave me here alone? We've got that tech-guy coming and all!"

🧚🏻‍♀️ 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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Breath. Yes, breath, that's it. Such a simple word that could be anything from a kind suggestion, to a blod-spitting order. It was a word Alexander the Vet had heard many times over in his long life; his buddy George telling Alexander to breath after having been told a joke way too stupid to be funny in highschool; their medic Connor comforting a dying soldier with both his legs blown off by a stray shell in the middle of Vietnamese nowhere; Judith his wife holding her hands on his cheeks and telling him everything was going to be fine. "Breath. Just breath." And so he would.

Alexander's vision slowly came back to the same room he'd been in a few moments ago, though it felt like days wandering blindly in darkness. Ol' Mugsy blinked tightly as he began looking around in a daze, wondering what just had happened. His mind was still clouded, heavy from the screaming that had thrown him back into one of his more flashbacks, so he couldn't entirely understand what was going on. To his side stood Beatrice, arms crossed and eyes ready to murder anyone coming to close to her. Or...to him? Was she protecting him? Had something happened? Alexander didn't know, his mind refused to resume its proper mode of function.

The old man's troubles weren't helped by the young soldier resuming the shouting. So much...noise.

It was that noise, not the words spoken by the young man, that got to him. Hunter? Was that his name? It didn't matter, for it was not him that Alexander saw before his eyes. Same height, same build, same tone of voice of some young soldier who just about had had enough. In the fogged view that was what Alexander could see, the presence of a never-ending jungle incapsulating everyone and everything inside it grappled with the old vet's mind, even if he didn't actually see a jungle. What he saw was Hunter doing his screaming, but in the form of a young private pacing around with nervous steps, yelling off into the jungle. He didn't want to be there, why were they there? How come they hadn't found Charlie, were they even out there? Alexander turned his head to his nearest guy in the squad, in reality towards Thalia, quietly talking as if he was both in 'Nam and the quarantine.

"If he doesn't shut up soon, something bad is going to happen to him...him and us. Charlie's out there, watching, or 'Sarge will kill him." Alexander said in a hushed voice, still rooted to the spot he'd dropped his cup of coffee. With those words spoken, his vision of the real world was piece by piece returning to normal, causing him to look around in confusion. With THalia at his side, he looked at her very much unsure of what was going on, a look in his eyes of fear. Fear of not knowing what had happened, what he'd done. What he'd said. "What...what did I say?" He asked her, just as he saw Tatiana's back, which only fueled his shaken demeanour.

It was bad, real bad. The kind of bad that normal folks only witnessed once or twice in their average lifes. Alexander and his kind though, they saw this daily. People's bodies twisted and turned, burned and scorched in ways man was not meant to be harmed, but were. Alexander closed his eyes tight shut, turning to face Thaia instead of staring at the horrid sight as she asked how he was doing. "I'm fine…I'm fine. Yeah, sitting down sounds good." He really needed to sit down, his head was hurting like Hell. Which was when Beatrice decked Hunter harder than a bombing run. Alexander didn't know what to do, swallowing hard down as he staggered forward to somewhere he could sit, quietly talking again. "I hate this fucking jungle…"

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Nigel "Hadrian" Cooper

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Location: Camp Mexico Beach: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills:

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Oh great, he had over-estimated the fucks that the crazy-grumpy duo actually gave. They weren't only giving zero fucks about the emotionally scarred Tatiana, they managed to go below into negative fucks given. Like Rome sacking the city of Carthage, burning it to the ground and salting the earth just to send a message, they didn't care for those living there and having to deal with the immense pain it caused. Or perhaps it was exactly because of the horror that they refused to take it serious? Nigel could only speculate, though Wayne's suggestion to sing was another piece of empiric observation that supported the theory. At this point Nigel "Hadrian" didn't take concern with him talking to the glitter-tooth thingy he swatted at. Nigel only sighed heavily and shook his head. "Someone…give me strength…"

The shouting had stopped for now, but the situation had far from improved the way Nigel had desperately hoped it would. One of the older guys, after dropping a cup on the ground, had continued to stand still this whole ordeal, but why? In a sea of screaming people, he was one that remained surprisingly quiet. Nigel didn't pay much attention to him however, not when one of the women decided to stand guard with daggers for eyes. No, his focus was on his own people and Tatiana. Erica had come up behind him and tried to calm him down. When she put her hand on his shoulder, Nigel turned his head and looked at her, tiredness filling his face and eyes at his point. He was tired, tired of everything that was going wrong these past years. Nigel wanted to tell Erica that he was okay, that he would calm down, that it wasn't him that this was about. He wanted to give Hank a piece of his mind, all that tension built up since they first met. But it was not meant to be.

Suddenly the younger soldier, Hunter, began his own verbal assault aimed at Tatiana. His speech, if it could be called that, was filled with intense pathos from a man that had a whole lot of steam to went. And Nigel wasn't impressed, digging his fingers into the bridge of his nose as, trying not to shout back. What the hell was this world going to? The dogs of Hades, apparently. For someone preaching the virtue of a cool head, his behaviour was more fit a Germanic berserker going all-in on a Roman legion. He might not have been wrong in what he meant, but his 'speech' was all pathos and no logos or ethos. Worst of all, this was another prime examply of what Nigel knew wouldn't improve the situation.

Nigel "Hadrian" turned around to watch whatever reaction would come from Tatiana after Hunter's outburst, at this point ignoring Hank if he so wished to give Nigel his opinion. It was Tatiana he was most focused on, she he tried to figure out what was the matter with. What had caused her to lash out like that. What triggered her. If he found out, perhaps he could help? Again it was the teacher that spoke for Nigel, the cool-headed adult who wanted the best for his students. So far he was taken back by the whole thing. The punching, screaming, arguing, the fact that it didn't seem people cared or would help her. Nigel watched as Tatiana simply brushed off Hunter's cold words, going to the other side of the room to change, not to sit with her husband. He would have averted his eyes as she changed, looking at her wouldn't be approriate in the post-apocalypse even, but the scars on her back kept his eyes from moving away.

Like everything that had happened inside the Conference Room, it was not a pretty sight to behold. It was enough for Nigel to not pay attention to either Hank, Erica or Wayne, he was forced to look in morbid curiosity. What Nigel was looking at were not merely scars from injuries or wounds one normally got in this world, nor was this a simple flogging. Of all the things Nigel had learned about Roman antiquity from his highschool years and later when he'd poured over books on Rome, all with such enjoyment and excitement, he'd wished he didn't know what those scars could have been caused by. Nigel swallowed hard down the words he were about to say, finally breaking his look from Tatiana's back and looking at Erica, then down at his feet as he tried to breath calmly. It was starting to fit together now, the puzzle pieces of what possibly could have happened to her. Her behavior was making more sense.

Nigel almost didn't register Hank's response, it being as anti-climatic as it were, drowned out by the magnitude of everything else that happened in that room. He wasn't surprised by Hank's answer, and he didn't have the energy to follow up the pursuit with any stern word fitting his teaching past. "Forget it. Trying to talk sense into you two is like throwing pebbles at Aurelian Wall." Nigel muttered, though he was surprised when Hank actually spoke some sense in a hushed voice. Did…did Hank actually care? "But we can try." was Nigel's equally hushed response, just as he registered Ashton's apology to Tatiana. Perhaps things were going to turn out okay in the end?

Not when another fight broke out, this time between Hunter and Beatrice. "Oh for the love of God!" Nigel exclaimed in the shock of it, looking baffled at the woman having excellently pinned the soldier to the ground, then to Erica. Why did this always happen, people not listening to "Hadrian" and then shit hitting the fan? Students, friends and survivors, it was an never-ending cycle. "Will someone stop this madness?" Nigel started moving towards the brawl, ready to intervene if it didnt end. If nobody else was going to have the good sense of stopping it, then he would.