"I would assume the law enforcers of your worlds wear uniforms as well?"
shake my head horizontally three times.
I should have bolded that
"Really? Your police do not wear anything that would identify them as such? Seems like a very confusing system."
"You see, Grate? Xeno Spit is dangerous!"
Help Grate up to his feet.
"Anyway, dear messenger, I have one more question - what language do the people of this town speak - one we can comprehend, the kind that the groundskeeper does or some other kind entirely? If the latter, would you mind providing us with some materials for linguistic studies of the local dialects and languages? Might be helpful in getting along with the locals."
Ask more!
"It is about 50-50 between the local dialect- Pharsec- and the UWM standard. And most people speak at least some of both,so it shouldn't be a problem. If need be we can get you a translator; But I doubt you'll need it. "
"I'm afraid so," Faith whispered back. "Some squads are composed of more... balanced members, some less. The less sometimes get better or die. Otherwise you end up with May there."
Faith nodded her head in May's direction.
Psssst, they're all crazy.
The messenger nods his head slowly, glances at May and nods again.
"Things have not changed." He mutters.
Flaming psychos outrank everyone.
((Sigged.))
((I sigged it first!))
((For the record, a failure of strength despite sufficient dexterity seems more likely to result in the bottle hitting my feet than my head.))
Grumble at Stacy and get up.
You accept Stacy's hand and stand up, grumbling at everything from your own reality bending failure to the crazy man who incited your rage.
"I'm going to be going now, taking Miss Faith to the infirmary area, You all should work out your schedule and get started."
The Messenger walks off with Faith in tow.