[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 [b]6[/b] (Armory) and Building [b]E[/b] (Apartments) 
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	[i]It was simple, squeezing a trigger. Less effort than raising a fork to one's mouth, and in this instance infinitely more satisfying. A loud report from the firearm, startling to any not accustomed to such a noise, sounded across the Inner Wall of Newnan. Echoed, just a little bit. Then it was over. A small moment of time, minimal effort, and the voices urging Ash to act quieted, leaving behind a sense of satisfied accomplishment. The man himself began to realize that this warm feeling of contentment was not a thing foreign to himself, but how he truly felt in that second of noise and muzzle flash. [b]Useful be damned.[/b] 

	The bullet itself had already passed in and out of the smug prick's head before his nervous system allowed him the luxury of reacting to it, spraying blood, bone, and softer tissues in a sickening cone shape behind him. A single, noticeable chunk of skull remained partially attached by a flap of scalp, creating an odd hinge effect that, for some reason, Ash found slightly amusing. The wound looked small at the point of entry; somewhere around the size of a manicured fingernail. The exit wound, though, was more the size of a coffee cup. It was amazing the damage that could be caused sometimes when a bullet struck flat bone. 

	Now his corpse could be used as a message to those terrorists in Eden. The time to fuck with Newnan was over.[/i]

	Ash smiled, ever so slightly. The mere thought of killing this man brought great satisfaction to him. He could see, in his mind's eye, all of the glorious carnage that a simple second of action would bring. The love of killing was not motivation enough to warrant such behavior, no, but the fact that his uncertainty about the man would be laid to rest was. His people would be safe. They wouldn't be in any more danger than they already were because of it, and the wolf in sheep's clothing would no longer be a concern. No torture, no sating an appetite for revenge. Just the simple an undramatic death of a dangerous man. Ash's position would be cemented for the newcomers. Eden would understand that "nice" was done with. 

	For good or ill, that wasn't the kind of place this was. Nor was that the kind of person Ash was. This man was correct: Ash did still have compassion. It was a fault as much as a virtue, anymore. These times had a way of changing people, though - Compassion takes many forms. A subtle shift from the virtue on an interpersonal level to showing compassion to an entire community of survivors wasn't that big of a stretch, and indeed was taking place within the gruff Captain. The shift was not complete; he indeed did wish to show mercy. At least part of him did. 

	Ash did not wish to appear shocked nor impressed at what the man had just told him. Knowing full well that his face would betray just that, on some small level, were he to remain quiet and staring, he instead opted for sarcasm. Paraphrasing one of his  favorite movies, he began [color=steelblue]"Darnit, Mr. O'Reily, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore."[/color] His gun did not move from the man. 

	He shifted the direction of his speech over to Bridgette, who looked almost gleeful to be in on the action. [color=steelblue]"Let's make sure he gets back to his cell. If he deviates from a direct path, kill him in any manner brings you the most happiness."[/color] 

	Ash lifted the radio once more, keeping his words short and pointed. [color=steelblue]"Check under the pillow. Clear the cell."[/color] The again-stoic Captain stepped to one side and motioned with his hand for Ryan to begin walking. 

[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 [b]6[/b] (Armory) and Building [b]E[/b] (Apartments)
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	[color=orangered][i]"Wow."[/i][/color] Bridgette thought to herself, [color=orangered][i]"Walldick's really bringing the intensity today."[/i][/color]

	She couldn't know what was going through Ash's head, but the Twenty Dollar Whore comment made her hold back a chuckle. Ok, she liked this guy. He was like the more straightlaced older brother that she never had. Plus, he made booze. Ash was alright. But this other guy? Well, she didn't know. He was kept alive for some reason, and while she really wanted to know why, now was not the best time to bring it up. Maybe after everything calmed down. Or just before. Or as soon as he was in a cell and out of earshot. But soon! Yes, soon. 

	But for now, she did say that she would act as a Security Detail for Ash, so that's what she was doing. It felt a little off, her preparing for a fight without her shield on her arm, but the situation called for more of a "boomstick" kind of option. She could still get at her preferred armament, but for now a spear and shotgun seemed the most effective combination, considering. 

	[color=orangered]"Yeah, I got a mouth on me. Got a gun on you. Start walking, Fuckstick."[/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 [b]2[/b] (Mess Hall)
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	[color=c0c0c0]"Vas talking about whole town, not just kitchen."[/color] said The Great Bazhooli, a polite look on his face as he addressed Sally, [color=c0c0c0]"But vould be happy to help you now."[/color] He moved as the older Newnanite directed, filling and placing serving dishes. He was no food service worker, but he wasn't lazy nor stupid. Food goes in this, this goes over there. Repeat as necessary. As a side note, don't go for anything sharp or dangerous that would put the men with guns at unease. They didn't seem like the randomly violent type, but Bazhooli was the new guy in town. 

	From the show he had put on outside the gates, they might expect that a man like himself could turn a properly stocked kitchen into a place of sharp, flying death. Indeed he could, but that would be horribly counterproductive to being accepted into this place. With the gunshots and worry, he suspected that it wouldn't take much for things here to go south for him. So, he kept his hands busy and in plain view, avoiding getting near anything that could be used as an obvious impromptu weapon. 

	When Sally mentioned putting on a show for Newnan, a very accepting smile crossed his face. The little ballerina jumped at the idea, to the point of immediately dragging him into it. Not that he minded. He had a few good routines on standby, usually the kind of thing one would see from a street performer. Tatiana very likely had never worked as a Knife Thrower's Assistant, and there was no time to get the tiny nuances of said performance drilled into her by then. But they could at least do [i]something[/i]. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Da, da. I like very much this plan. But... vould need things back. Maybe is for later? Ah, ve figure something out."[/color]