<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/DpUgBIO.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Dawn Farron<br/><strong>Location:</strong>XCOM Barrack main hall (After several minor detours)<br/><strong>Action:</strong>Running late<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone in the main hall, American Airlines<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The fact that there was more than one Washington in the United States had proven quite troublesome for a particular traveller who happened to be in the dilemma of ending up in Washington State when aiming for Washington D.C. In the end, it had seemed a bit sketchy when she ended up in the far north in the middle of nowhere, with temperatures about 50 degrees Celsius below what they should be, at least for someone spending large amounts of time in deserts. However, after the rather unfortunate event, a flight to D.C was booked with American airlines, and after effectively delaying the flight four hours because the flight security didn't find it very tempting to travel with an anti-tank rifle, a machete, a handgun and several types of small explosives in the cargo, she was off to D.C.<br/><br/>After spending about two hours in D.C. and picking up the one thing she had been after, she once again found herself booking another flight with American Airlines who seemed very pleased to have her back, so pleased in fact that they were kind enough to let her past all of the queues... Before once again arguing for hours after hours to make sure she wasn't a terrorist, which she yet again managed to prove against all odds. Due to the long detour, she had spent another extra 24 hours on getting to her final destination in Nevada, and after a long and in-depth discussion with the flight security once she got off the plane again, she was off, along with an unpleased Turkish taxi driver who didn't seem to appreciate having the barrel of the over two meter long rifle pointing directly at the rather recently changed windscreen.<br/><br/>However, after the hour and a half it had taken to get from the airport to the next pickup point, she had managed to scare about 20 air security guards and a Turkish taxi driver, not a bad resume as of yet at least. After making her way to the next destination, she once again came in an argument with the entry guards, who didn't seem very pleased with her approach, which involved waving and smiling while trying to get through, before eventually having to fish out of her bag a set of almost ripped papers before she was eventually let through, they were even kind enough to point her in the opposite direction of where she was supposed to be.<br/><br/>However, after several detours involving an accidental yet clearly appreciated peek into the mens showers, she had made her way to where she was supposed to be. Without knocking, she pushed the door open, dressed in her clearly not meant for cold Nevada biker shorts and leather jacket with rather sparesome clothing underneath. She fixed the shoulder-strap of the uncovered rifle hanging from her shoulder along with the gray bag she kept pretty much everything she needed in, making her way between people towards a free spot, talking while walking.<strong>"Sorry for being late, but, if it means something, I got a souvenir from American Airlines telling me to never fly with them again"</strong>She didn't seem sorry at all, if anything, she seemed happy she had managed to skip a few minutes of the first briefing. She swung the well-worn rifle off her shoulder and placed it up towards the wall along with the bag she had been carrying, before pulling out a chair from along the wall, spinning it around so the back of it would face the dictator, or as the military liked to call it,<em>announcer</em>. She sat down on it so that she could lean over the back of it, her chest resting kindly on top of the back of the chair, though she didn't seem to mind either way.