>>6089070>>6089183>>6089148>>6089540OPTION SELECTED: >[DIPLOMATIC ACTION]: Gila Counter-Raid
TIE FOR LEADER, USING SECRET METHOD OF RESOLVING TIE
(coin flip since it seems like enough time past since last votes)...
...
LEADER SELECTED: Cardinal "Jesse" Paul
>CHANGING POV...It's been too long since you've seen some fucking action. You adjust the body armor underneath the sand-colored 'camo' (although with the custom designs painted on it almost looks like something from centuries ago) and ready your battle rifle on the hood of one of the modded pick-up trucks you'll be riding into battle with. You and the rest of the Crusaders you're about to lead into battle are just waiting for the go-ahead from the Sidewinder scouts. The Maricopan trade caravan just began its drive up to South Phoenix, so any moment now word should be coming in on the inevitable raid sent by the POZ proxies. The core of the plan is simple: when the enemies are out raiding the trucks of food going up Highway 347 you and the rest of the fighters will raid the various communities they're part of, smashing through whatever token defenses they have there, taking what's there to take, and showing them (and the POZ by extension) that they're not the only ones who can wield force. Maricopa's leader, Preis, must've taken a page out of that roided psycho's playbook when he came up with it, and it's not a bad plan. At the very least it'll be a good break from building shit and training exercises.
Your hands shake a bit as you fidget around with a rosary rope. You're not going to commit to the actual prayer with a possible go-signal to come in at any moment, but honestly you've always been terrible at the actual 'prayer' part of being a Catholic. The whole 'living a virtuous life' thing honestly feels like a pipe dream at times. You sometimes second guess yourself and think about everything you've left behind. Your face was on screens all over the country. The Hollywood contacts got you enough money to throw the craziest of parties fueled by only the finest of drugs for the finest of bros and bitches. It was honestly pretty nice. If the country hadn't had started imploding you know you'd still be out there in the Hills being a complete meth-addled degenerate. Not that you aren't still one. But here in the deserts, clad in Crusader robes and battle armor leading the Army of Christ, you feel like you actually have a chance to rise above the mire. Not in the sense that you think you're better than anyone for it (if anything the burden can be crushing) but that you know a lot of people were left behind. You can't help but think of what became of your old friends out in California, maybe some of them are still stuck in that hellhole or perhaps-
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