[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 [b]2[/b] (Mess Hall) -> Building [b]1[/b] (Cells) [/center][hr][hr] Ash envied the days from long ago where all he had to worry about in a day was the construction of a temporary bridge or artificial aquifer for surrounding areas, all before a festive afternoon trading fire with hostiles and/or pushing a mechanical offensive into an area rigged with stops and explosives. Envy. The kind of jobs he did, a lifetime ago, generally involved running a team into scouted territory and making it passable by infantry and machines both, and then keeping a forward position defended and habitable for an occupying force. Walls, water, dirt and steel; electronic and mechanical backup, making the uninhabitable habitable, and the impassable passable, brothers and sisters in arms leading the way for everyone else. All of that before receiving the rank of Captain. There was more than enough room in that kind of a life for trauma-inspiring horror, some for which his training even prepared him. Some it did not. His fellow man had been his primary enemy back then, followed by the environment. The concept really hadn't changed much, but the manner of the challenges were multiplied many times over, and in most unexpected ways. For instance, it was highly unexpected for him to be sharing a meal with [i]this guy[/i] in a courthouse holding area, engaged in a series of verbal feints and parries over instant mashed potatoes, spam, and what he [i]really[/i] hoped was cabbage. The entire situation was laughable, he realized. It was a strange sort of contextual feeling; a kind of sudden hyperawareness of what he was doing there, as if looking at it safely through the distance of a television screen. Ash breathed a short but heavy sigh, and chuckled slightly. [color=steelblue]"You a drinking man, O'Reily? Don't have any on me right this second, but, it's always good to meet someone that can appreciate decent booze. Myself, I can appreciate decent booze, and I can make more-than-decent. Had my own label, did you know that? Before, anyway... Well, that's a topic for a different time." "Look, if something bad happens to either of us, I don't expect the other is going to lose much sleep over it. Really don't. We're just not there yet. I don't think you want to spend the rest of your days in that cage. But I also don't want to have a loose cannon running around my town. Get me? [i]So[/i], do you think that we can stop trying to outsmart each other, and have some real talk? If we can do that, I'd love to listen to your input on how to keep these people safe. Hopefully, in a manner that crushes your pals back in Peachtree."[/color] Ash noted the number of communities that Ryan rattled off. It was an interesting note to him that, in all of their time scavenging for supplies and building materials they had never heard of these settlements. Newnan needed people, period. Hands to work the land, eyes to patrol the Wall. Their little town had the capacity to feed and shelter so many more people, so long as they were willing to lend a hand. Or shed some blood, as it looked likely. [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) [/center][hr][hr] [color=c0c0c0]"Da, da little Meghna. Please show vhere I make performance. I, ah... I do more then knives, you see. Juggle, tumble, little barking vhen needed, but mostly, The Great Bazhooli is an Impaler. Anything I do vithout stabbys vill not be as good. But yes, I follow."[/color] As The Great Bazhooli stood and began to follow Meg from the Mess Hall, the Security personnel still present to watch the newcomer moved to match him. He still hadn't been formally interviewed yet, and for all anyone knew, The Great Bazhooli was a glue-sniffing maniac out to steal all of their squirrels and rub cold sore pus on the rims of Newnan's drinking glasses, before disappearing wordlessly into the night. And now Meg was propositioning walking off alone with him to a possibly empty building. Luckily, the single rifleman still lugging around Bazhooli's stuff begged to differ with that possibility. Yes, he was playing the role of Professional Third Wheel admirably, mostly because he knew Meg (they all did) and wanted to keep her safe, but partially because he had no desire for Ash to assign him latrine duty, or something far worse. The Great Bazhooli noticed his tagalong and smiled at him. Even waved him closer. Then he intoned a serious question to Meg: [color=c0c0c0]"Place for show, things for show. Show is good, I like. But... Vhere am I to stay here? Vhere to put stuff, rest head, eh?"[/color] He continued to follow the young woman, actual curiosity piquing at the location he would perform his first actual show (and to other people, too!) in a very long time. [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] Parking Lot between [b]10[/b] (Medical Garden) and Gilbert Street - Present location of his Smoker [/center][hr][hr] Still humming a little tune, as he often did while working, Black James reviewed the niftiness of his handiwork. Good, seasoned wood burned slowly with a touch of Ash's booze, moisture level just where it should be. That deer would be a thin slice of luxury when it was done in a couple more hours. Its skin lay outstretched nearby, fur still remarkable intact. If it wasn't for the sudden intrusion and that whole "murder thing", today might have been a great day. Fresh crop of new people came in, too. Point of fact, the deer he was busy smoking came courtesy of these new folk. It was kind of a reminder - Not all the people outside of these walls was bad. Caught in his own thoughts of meat ad new folk, James barely caught sight of something in the distance. He couldn't quite make it out, but it seemed to be low to the ground and moving fast, darting from one shadowy point to another, drawing closer, ever closer. James made a slow move to procure his axe from the tool loop on his overalls. By the time it was halfway out, he lost sight of the small, quick form. Maybe it was just his imagination. Yeah. That must be it. He was getting too jumpy, but it was natural considering the scare they all had that morning. He slowly slid his axe back into place. When he heard the unexpected, inquisitive [color=darkorange]"Meow?"[/color] from just behind him, Black James very nearly leapt.