[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=orangered]Bridgette Vinters[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/b4/78/d5b478ac0063ce48f5bab3cb5648b0a1.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building 6 (Armory)
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	The fact that Newnan seemed to be under attack notwithstanding, Bridgette did get a tiny endorphin jolt as she recovered her personal gear from the Armory. [color=orangered]"Ooh yeah, come to mama..."[/color] she whispered with just a touch of excitement as she retrieved her broadaxe. She had crafted the intimidating chopper some years ago; it was strong and balanced, not exactly a "period accurate" piece, but it was infinitely reliable, easily portable, and heavy on the strike. She gave it a lingering gaze, almost loving to view, before setting it aside to pull on her armor. 

	Again, her mail was a personally crafted item. It hung about her like a closely linked net of titanium rings; a matte, metal, hooded greatcoat that gave almost total coverage. A lifesaving device against Biters and people who wanted to take a stab at her, giving full movement and excellent air circulation. Bridgette gave consideration to expanding upon the piece, if she ever got the time. Add plate to vital areas, maybe, to give herself better protection against small arms fire. But for now it was a passing thought. The more pressing issue of a town under fire came to mind. 

	If there was continued difficulty with people taking shots at the townsfolk, then there wasn't a whole lot she could do from inside. Bridgette was primarily a melee expert, some evidence to that assertion being the spear and shield she hefted next. Again, marvelous armaments. The shield, she slung across her back, but kept her spear in hand. It just seemed to belong there. Though the angry woman did possess a more modern weapon: a double-barreled Remington shotgun, which she hastily loaded and holstered (as one might a backup weapon) on her horse, Cadence. Continuing on, she traded out her knife for her seax, gladly, slipping the smaller blade into her boot. 

	By the time she was done, Bridgette had loaded up herself and her horse with enough armament to assault a small fiefdom, including a couple extra spears of familiar design and history. Though she couldn't take out people located in high or hidden sniping positions, Bridgette would be a force of blood and iron standing solidly against an incursion of bodies, living or dead, if part of the wall came down again. By the time one of the Leads entered the building, Bridgette was pulling her chain hood over blonde braids, looking every inch a breathtaking, but utterly frightening Valkyrie. 

	[color=orangered]"About time someone who makes decisions fucking showed up."[/color] she began, her eyes a bright, seawater blue, noticeably excited now. She located a rather large Barret .50 and tossed it to the target of her monologue. [color=orangered]"This hulking bastard's yours, right BJ?"[/color]

	

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=firebrick]Black James![/color][/h1]
[img]https://v.cdn.vine.co/r/avatars/6AE78329E91063505631975227392_pic-r-1396533712688c4afde8ecf.jpg.jpg?versionId=ZnGOSit0zozlhxpJk0w6QVx4cSozVRdq[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building 6 (Armory)
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	[color=firebrick]"You a presumptuous bitch, ya know that, Bree?"[/color] answered James, grabbing the weapon out of the air and giving it a quick inspection. [color=firebrick]"Bad news is, we gettin' shot at. Good news, that deer'll be good and smoked in about another hour."[/color] He risked a smile. It was obvious that he was trying to use humor to diffuse tension, to get the people inside the Armory to feel a touch less scared. It worked, marginally. Everyone else knew what he was attempting, but the very real thought of smoked venison, even fleeting, helped. In times like this, giving people something, anything to look forward to could work miracles. A couple more smiles answered his own, quickly fading as weapons were readied. 

	James leaned in closer to Bridgette, whispering to her, [color=firebrick]"They killed a kid, right in front of us. Shot a hungry boy in the street, just 'cause they could."[/color]

	Bridgette nodded to him, tears forming in her eyes. She blinked them away and responded with a muted, [color=orangered]"I... I know. Little girl, just north of the School. Fuckstain shot a little girl [i]playing with a ball[/i]."[/color]

	James shook his head. He continued gathering the choicest bits of his own armament that, while not as classically impressive as Bridgette's, promised to get the job done. Especially his Barret. That was a scary piece of hardware, especially to anyone who had seen it take down a tree or turn a torso into fine mist. It was a lucky find, very lucky. And still too much gun for most situations. James looked down to his weapon and opened his mouth, intent on changing the subject again, when his walkie burst to life. Simultaneously, so did the Armory's. It was the people on sentry duty, checking in as per Ash's orders. 

 	"We can't see anything boss." 

	"We have at least 3 fatalities." 

	"Zoie was hit." 

	"We have the Russians, the couple and Sophia safely within the Mess Hall."

	[color=firebrick]"Damn."[/color] was all James felt the need to say. He needed to get out there, man the Wall. Find out what was and was not happening. If he fortunate, maybe aerate some hostiles. He looked to Bridgette, they both nodded, and started for the door. 


[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=steelblue]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/bcfab66a674d39bfaaddc28bd62d4470/tumblr_inline_ne41kcr5UN1s5par2.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building 6 (Armory)
[/center][hr][hr]

	Ashton entered the Armory dramatically, radio and .45 in hand. He was all business, and looked positively livid. No one could fault him this. After all, his people were being shot. He kept tight lipped as he rushed over to the rack of assault rifles and carbines, selecting an M4 Carbine. It had served his country well over the years, and was a standard, reliable weapon. He set it onto a nearby table and began pulling on the flak jacket from a set of military riot gear. The full armor would overheat and slow him down - more useful against the Dead than the living. They were being attacked by guns. 

	He looked over to Bridgette, a vision of resplendent glory in her armor. Her tactic looked to be the opposite of his. Ash internally reasoned that She and James had halted dead in their tracks when he entered the building. Maybe they were waiting for orders. Maybe they saw something about him that he had missed. Whatever. He had to get equipped and back out there. While he had their attention, he briefed them with what little information he had. To hammer the point to as many people, he spoke into his walkie, too. 

	[color=steelblue]"Unknown number of hostiles, targeting non-combatants. Victims are in different parts of Newnan, so remember to keep an eye up while you're looking around. Zoie has been hit. I don't know her status, but those that can help her, are. Focus on what [i]you[/i] can do to help. For casualties: make sure you get their brains. We've all got jobs right now. See to them."[/color]

	Ash clipped his walkie back to his belt, addressing James and Bridgette directly. [color=steelblue]"Bridgette, you're a fast mover on that horse. Give a ride around, help any injured or stragglers inside the Inner Wall. James, we've got enough people on the Wall. Take that cannon of yours up the Tower, see what your scope can tell us. I'm going to see to our new arrivals. When we hit an All Clear, we're going to sit down and discuss how to solve this problem [i]permanently[/i]."[/color]

	

[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=c0c0c0]The Great Bazhooli[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0c830ac3-637e-4722-a654-d4192b0bd4c2.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building 2 (Mess Hall)
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	The Great Bazhooli felt the sudden blast of chill air from the building's AC unit, suddenly struck the concept that this place had working electricity. Wow. This Newnan was a paradise. Except for the gunfire and sudden death. You build something worthwhile, people want to take or destroy it. Part of him immediately wished that he simply passed the place by, or picked a different track to follow down. Another part was glad that he did, grimly curious about what would have happened were he found by those people while he was alone. 

	He gave a broad (if somewhat nervous) smile to Sally, and gave a listen to Sophia's summary of events. Noting Jack's response, he held up a finger, as to ask permission to speak. Addressing everyone present, but looking from Sophia to Jack, The Great Bazhooli posed a quick question, [color=c0c0c0]"This, ah... This happen lot here?"[/color]