[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] Parking Lot between Building 6 (Armory) and Building E (Apartments) 
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	The barrel of Ash's gun remained trained on Ryan's face. His training with the Army generally had him aiming for the center mass, especially at this distance. A .45 round, even against ballistic armor designed to withstand a hand cannon such as that, would knock a man flat on his ass. Without the armor, the same man stuck in the torso with the same bullet would fare significantly worse. The last three years had altered his habits somewhat. Dead or alive, if it was standing, crawling, or snarling, Ash's optimal bullet placement was between the eyes. Or sockets, as the case may be. 

	The guy had some nerve, Ash had to hand it to him. Resourceful, too. Of course, depending upon how resourceful he was, the man left to guard him was dead or dying, quite possibly. It was reason enough to end the man where he stood, even as he plead his case. In his mind's eye, the trigger was already pulled, and this guy, Ryan, was blinking uncontrollably as the last few raw synapses in his brain fired impotently. 

	Instead, he allowed the [i]utterly busted[/i] man to finish his monologue, cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, and brought his radio up with his free hand. [color=steelblue]"I need a security detail just south of the Armory. Armed escort required for one. You have less than a minute."[/color] 

	Clipping the walkie back onto his belt, Ash addressed the former Edenite with weary, indifferent authority, as a man truly annoyed at having to explain what should be obvious. [color=steelblue]"You are in no position to make demands. You're alive now because Zoie wanted you that way. You were locked up, also because Zoie wanted you that way. I'm going along with it because I'm curious, and because you may have value to us. If Hell freezes over and trust is established, we'll readdress. But if you move further, [i]in any way[/i], I will shoot you dead. [i]Look at me. Tell me if I'm lying.[/i]"[/color]


[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] Gravesite, within Outer Wall -> Parking Lot between Building 6 (Armory) and Building E (Apartments)
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	Bridgette saw to the girl's corpse as respectfully as she dared, considering the threat of gunfire and, apparently, getting one's corpse removed surreptitiously while their collective attention was focused elsewhere. To put it bluntly, the tall woman did not kick the girl's body into a convenient spot, but nor did she leave arranged flowers. The happy middle ground had the tarp-wrapped package of former Newnanite places parallel to the hole originally dug for Lily, but far enough away so that another could be comfortably dug for her. 

	Then the reports came in. That radio was a cruel, impersonal messenger sometimes. Having one resting on her hip did nothing for easing her mind. Informative, yes. All in all though, it made her want to grab the few people she really cared for and haul them back to her house, surrounded by its own fence, with an independent water source, and fortify the hell out of it. Of course, the next logical thought in this train of self-preservation was that, were it not for this town and these people, Astrid and Bryn and herself wouldn't have that comfortable little home, that rough wooden wall surrounding, the old fashioned, stone rimmed well, nor a permanent place to keep and tend to Edgar and Cadence. Yeah, she owed them. And she was part of this community too, damnit. 

	When Ash's voice was heard again over the walkie, Bridgette was already mounting her charger. Armed escort for one? Sounded a little strange, especially that far inside the gate. She had to find out more. The fact that she wasn't part of the security team was a triviality. [color=orangered]"Fuck yeah! I've got you, Ash. Somebody need some tough love, boss?"[/color] 

	Captain Ash could likely hear the hoofbeats of the approaching Valkyrie, long before the sun glinting from her spearhead or the growling of obscenities. The benefit of a horse in these times - one could travel ground in a surprising amount of time. [color=orangered]"This the assbag?"[/color] she asked, motioning with her sawed-off. [color=orangered]"You want I should run him through, or back to the cell?"[/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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	Both Jack and Tatiana were curious as to the identity of the little orange superhero. Seeing as the cat could not speak for himself, at least not in a manner understandable by the human population, The Great Bazhooli took it upon himself to speak for his diminutive, feline companion. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"I have been calling kitty-cat "Schrodinger". He has been vith me for long time now, only friend since... vell, since train. I think he vas hallucination at first - vould just appear from nowhere, disappear for long time. Did not know if alive or not, so... Schrodinger. He seems to like."[/color] 

	The Great Bazhooli's face darkened for a moment, thinking about the first span of time after he was forced to leave his train, taking that handcart down the tracks. He had never really been by himself for a long period of time. As he had mentioned earlier that day, he didn't handle Alone very well. The problems that this community faced, at least those that he could see from the brief time he had spent inside its walls, were the very same problems his troupe faced when all of this started. They could not adapt fast enough to maintain a force capable of defending themselves and keeping everyone fed. The result being their almost total destruction. 

	This place had a similar problem. There just weren't enough people, not when a hostile force was nearby. The Great Bazhooli didn't want to see (more or less) decent folk go out the same way his people did. He smiled a great, near cheshire grin underneath his prodigious moustache, as he returned his thoughts to the full present. [color=c0c0c0]"Is good kitty! Very good kitty, as cats go. Schrodinger belongs to Schrodinger."[/color] He switched up his tone to something more optimistic, and turned to Sally, the nearest person to an authority figure, so long as you didn't count the men with guns near the doors. [color=c0c0c0]"I vant to help, Miz. Sally -  vith..."[/color] He motioned around himself, trying like hell to indicate more than just the building they were in. [color=c0c0c0]"...this. How do I do this? Who do I speak vith?"[/color]