OOC: here's a way, Gretin, if we all did it for easy reference.
CORIDOOR OUTSIDE OF CAFETERIA;
IC: Nox listened to Jerr's reply;
"green visor...head of security, i'll have to keep an eye out for him. yeah, my names Nox, Veteran class, and i might look stressed because...well...yeh see this?" Nox held up his right forearm with the intricate, black tattoo upon it,
"i dunno if you heard of the 'D&M' war, it might be a bit before your time, but it lasted for 3 years, and i fought in the odd forsaken thing from beginning to end, for Slig Barracks. now, going what i've gone through 'aint no easy ride, and you dont get away with it either," Nox tapped the side of his head darkly, raising his voice a little,
"and what do you get for a ruined life and a guilt ridden mind?! a tattoo stating your Veteran class and a pat on the back. huh."
you tell it Nox! YEAH, you tell it!
"s***, sorry Jerr, thats what it does to yeh. messes up your bloody mind. do you know how half my friends in Slig Barracks died after the war, once they'd received Veteran status? blew their brains out, jumped off some high walkway or got p****d and got themselves killed in some pub fight. only the deranged dont kill 'emselves after them ordeals, which explains me. anyway, enough o' that depressing crap, i'd best make myself busy."
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