[Fal-Il squinted an eye open to peer up at the rude individual to intrude on his professional sulking, unbothered that this apparent, scrawny little human was looming over him with a blade. Geeze, what was with people going back in time weapon-wise? X-COM goons were all carrying swords nowadays, or hauling around a ye olde harpoon, when things like plasma rifles existed. You'd think this was the late 1800s and next thing he was gonna see was a full on gunpowder cannon wheeled onto the battlefield.

Humans. Illogical yet delightfully strange little weirdoes, the lot of them.]

At some point, he asks. I've been dead at many points in time in a myriad of gruesome and terrible ways.

[He sat up, and being so long and lanky, even sitting up was almost enough to have him eye level with the samurai wannabe.]

Kinda loses its charm, y'know. What about you, shortstuff? First time?