---

---

---

---

---

It was becoming increasing difficult to stay calm and focus on keeping Jamie happy and unaware of the tension in the room. Jack didn't know any psychology - but his gut was telling him that his son didn't need to have this memory when he was older. Jamie was going to see enough horrible things - he didn't need to see his mother punch his uncle, Riley swear at her, and everything else that was happening. He wanted to protect his son from the world - from everything in it that he could - and while he couldn't get Jamie out of this room at the moment, he could at least keep him calm and happy.

However, he couldn't stay calm anymore as Hunter began to tear into Tatiana. Asking her if she was stupid. It reminded him very vaguely of one of his earlier memories - when his mother and father were together in the same room, with him shouting at her something along those lines. He took a sharp breath, taking a quick assessment of the room. He couldn't pass off Jamie to anyone at the moment to go yell at Hunter properly himself. He didn't trust Amelia's judgment. Riley was angry. Tatiana and Ash were both fighting. He didn't trust anyone else there. At least the military officers running this show hadn't done anything towards Tatiana just yet.

Jack shifted slightly, gently putting his hands over Jamie's ears. As he spoke, his eyes flickered down every few seconds, just to make sure he didn't need to adjust his hold on his son in order to keep him safe. "I am not goin' to repeat myself, kid," he prefaced, looking at Hunter and not moving from where he was. "If ya speak to my wife again like that - if you yell and scream in front of my kid and sweah - bein' out of people's good books will be the least of your probahlems," he warned.

As Tatiana came over to the couch to grab her pack, Jack gave her a gentle but tired smile. He knew that Tatiana had needed to have that talk with Ash. He didn't like that she had punched him in front of their son, that there had been screaming and yelling. But she was his wife - he was going to support her emotionally as best as he could. His eyes swept over Tatiana's back as she undressed, making damn sure that Jamie couldn't see that. Tears came to his eyes and once more, he felt helpless and lost, not sure what to do or what to say. "₁Solovey ... Ty feniks," Jack said softly to Tatiana. Whenever he spoke, he kept his tone either steady and even or soft and kind. He didn't want to upset Jamie with more anger.

And then, as if the universe was trying to test him, Ash came over and had the nerve to say that he was disappointed in him. "You're disappointed in me?" Jack asked, his voice steady but only for Jamie's sake. He was shaking on the inside. "Walk away from me, fine. I get that you're hurtin' real badly, Ash. And this? This wasn't pretty. I am Tatiana's husband and Jamie's fathah. My job is to keep my family safe - to keep my kid from gettin' messed up from seein' all of this or hurt if a fight spread. Who was I gonna have take Jamie? Not Red - she's a sweet kid but she doesn't have common sense. Not Riley, not you and not Tatiana. So would ya have been less disappointed if I let Jamie crawl on the ground, with people we don't even know? People who coulda hurt him?"

There was a lot more that Jack wanted to say to Ash, but he didn't. Now wasn't the time for that. Now wasn't the time to bring up the pain Jack felt every time Ash acted like he was Jamie's father - like he was Tatiana's husband. There had been things that Ash said to his son before Jack had a chance to, things that Jack should have said first. Promises Jack should have been the first to make.

He took another deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. He never had a good father. He didn't have happy memories of him. He wanted Jamie to have happy memories - he was too little to have dark ones, too little to see his family fall apart.

---

---

---

---

---

With all of the drama, tension, and chaos in the room, Beatrice kept her concentration on Alexander. Unfortunately, not moments after the screaming had stopped, it started up again with some young kid. She stared at him, wondering what level of human stupidity he was attempting to achieve here. How blind did he have to be, to not see what a colossal mistake he was making? He was triggering Alexander's mental issues - triggering pain to someone that was not needed. She wouldn't have cared but Alexander was her people. And Beatrice didn't mind if she was told she couldn't stay here. She would be just fine. Thalia was helping with Alexander as well, seeing if she could get him to a quiet place to sit.

That was good. Beatrice didn't care for the threats that some of the men were shooting towards Hunter. They were not actions - just words. Most likely, someone this idiotic would make this same mistake again. It also helped that Beatrice enjoyed a good physical altercation. And the longer she was here, the more she felt like she was back in juvi again. Only fists would teach a lesson. "I've got this," she told Thalia and Alex simply. Then without a second thought, she turned and tackled Hunter to the ground.

She kept a firm grip on him, pinning him like a pro, preventing him from getting back up again. This was how warnings were sent back home. This is how Beatrice knew to operate. Without feeling any remorse, she looked down at him simply. "Now, if you scream or try to get out of this, I will break your arm," Beatrice said. "Consider this your first warning. You only get one. Next time, I will kill you. And unlike the others here, I make good on my word. They're good people. I'm not. I just pretend to be one." She still didn't release him, waiting to see how he reacted. She didn't care what the officers would do to her. Kill her, kick her out, hurt her - whatever. It was a strange feeling, being willing to risk herself for Alexander's mental health. She didn't know if she should be afraid of that or not - if she was losing her edge.

What she did know was that she was looking forward to inflicting pain on Hunter if he didn't learn his lesson instantaneously. "Do you understand or do I need to have them waste medical supplies here on your soon to be broken arm?"

---

---

---

---

---

Breath. Yes, breath, that's it. Such a simple word that could be anything from a kind suggestion, to a blod-spitting order. It was a word Alexander the Vet had heard many times over in his long life; his buddy George telling Alexander to breath after having been told a joke way too stupid to be funny in highschool; their medic Connor comforting a dying soldier with both his legs blown off by a stray shell in the middle of Vietnamese nowhere; Judith his wife holding her hands on his cheeks and telling him everything was going to be fine. "Breath. Just breath." And so he would.

Alexander's vision slowly came back to the same room he'd been in a few moments ago, though it felt like days wandering blindly in darkness. Ol' Mugsy blinked tightly as he began looking around in a daze, wondering what just had happened. His mind was still clouded, heavy from the screaming that had thrown him back into one of his more flashbacks, so he couldn't entirely understand what was going on. To his side stood Beatrice, arms crossed and eyes ready to murder anyone coming to close to her. Or...to him? Was she protecting him? Had something happened? Alexander didn't know, his mind refused to resume its proper mode of function.

The old man's troubles weren't helped by the young soldier resuming the shouting. So much...noise.

It was that noise, not the words spoken by the young man, that got to him. Hunter? Was that his name? It didn't matter, for it was not him that Alexander saw before his eyes. Same height, same build, same tone of voice of some young soldier who just about had had enough. In the fogged view that was what Alexander could see, the presence of a never-ending jungle incapsulating everyone and everything inside it grappled with the old vet's mind, even if he didn't actually see a jungle. What he saw was Hunter doing his screaming, but in the form of a young private pacing around with nervous steps, yelling off into the jungle. He didn't want to be there, why were they there? How come they hadn't found Charlie, were they even out there? Alexander turned his head to his nearest guy in the squad, in reality towards Thalia, quietly talking as if he was both in 'Nam and the quarantine.

"If he doesn't shut up soon, something bad is going to happen to him...him and us. Charlie's out there, watching, or 'Sarge will kill him." Alexander said in a hushed voice, still rooted to the spot he'd dropped his cup of coffee. With those words spoken, his vision of the real world was piece by piece returning to normal, causing him to look around in confusion. With THalia at his side, he looked at her very much unsure of what was going on, a look in his eyes of fear. Fear of not knowing what had happened, what he'd done. What he'd said. "What...what did I say?" He asked her, just as he saw Tatiana's back, which only fueled his shaken demeanour.

It was bad, real bad. The kind of bad that normal folks only witnessed once or twice in their average lifes. Alexander and his kind though, they saw this daily. People's bodies twisted and turned, burned and scorched in ways man was not meant to be harmed, but were. Alexander closed his eyes tight shut, turning to face Thaia instead of staring at the horrid sight as she asked how he was doing. "I'm fine…I'm fine. Yeah, sitting down sounds good." He really needed to sit down, his head was hurting like Hell. Which was when Beatrice decked Hunter harder than a bombing run. Alexander didn't know what to do, swallowing hard down as he staggered forward to somewhere he could sit, quietly talking again. "I hate this fucking jungle…"

---

---

---

---

---

Oh great, he had over-estimated the fucks that the crazy-grumpy duo actually gave. They weren't only giving zero fucks about the emotionally scarred Tatiana, they managed to go below into negative fucks given. Like Rome sacking the city of Carthage, burning it to the ground and salting the earth just to send a message, they didn't care for those living there and having to deal with the immense pain it caused. Or perhaps it was exactly because of the horror that they refused to take it serious? Nigel could only speculate, though Wayne's suggestion to sing was another piece of empiric observation that supported the theory. At this point Nigel "Hadrian" didn't take concern with him talking to the glitter-tooth thingy he swatted at. Nigel only sighed heavily and shook his head. "Someone…give me strength…"

The shouting had stopped for now, but the situation had far from improved the way Nigel had desperately hoped it would. One of the older guys, after dropping a cup on the ground, had continued to stand still this whole ordeal, but why? In a sea of screaming people, he was one that remained surprisingly quiet. Nigel didn't pay much attention to him however, not when one of the women decided to stand guard with daggers for eyes. No, his focus was on his own people and Tatiana. Erica had come up behind him and tried to calm him down. When she put her hand on his shoulder, Nigel turned his head and looked at her, tiredness filling his face and eyes at his point. He was tired, tired of everything that was going wrong these past years. Nigel wanted to tell Erica that he was okay, that he would calm down, that it wasn't him that this was about. He wanted to give Hank a piece of his mind, all that tension built up since they first met. But it was not meant to be.

Suddenly the younger soldier, Hunter, began his own verbal assault aimed at Tatiana. His speech, if it could be called that, was filled with intense pathos from a man that had a whole lot of steam to went. And Nigel wasn't impressed, digging his fingers into the bridge of his nose as, trying not to shout back. What the hell was this world going to? The dogs of Hades, apparently. For someone preaching the virtue of a cool head, his behaviour was more fit a Germanic berserker going all-in on a Roman legion. He might not have been wrong in what he meant, but his 'speech' was all pathos and no logos or ethos. Worst of all, this was another prime examply of what Nigel knew wouldn't improve the situation.

Nigel "Hadrian" turned around to watch whatever reaction would come from Tatiana after Hunter's outburst, at this point ignoring Hank if he so wished to give Nigel his opinion. It was Tatiana he was most focused on, she he tried to figure out what was the matter with. What had caused her to lash out like that. What triggered her. If he found out, perhaps he could help? Again it was the teacher that spoke for Nigel, the cool-headed adult who wanted the best for his students. So far he was taken back by the whole thing. The punching, screaming, arguing, the fact that it didn't seem people cared or would help her. Nigel watched as Tatiana simply brushed off Hunter's cold words, going to the other side of the room to change, not to sit with her husband. He would have averted his eyes as she changed, looking at her wouldn't be approriate in the post-apocalypse even, but the scars on her back kept his eyes from moving away.

Like everything that had happened inside the Conference Room, it was not a pretty sight to behold. It was enough for Nigel to not pay attention to either Hank, Erica or Wayne, he was forced to look in morbid curiosity. What Nigel was looking at were not merely scars from injuries or wounds one normally got in this world, nor was this a simple flogging. Of all the things Nigel had learned about Roman antiquity from his highschool years and later when he'd poured over books on Rome, all with such enjoyment and excitement, he'd wished he didn't know what those scars could have been caused by. Nigel swallowed hard down the words he were about to say, finally breaking his look from Tatiana's back and looking at Erica, then down at his feet as he tried to breath calmly. It was starting to fit together now, the puzzle pieces of what possibly could have happened to her. Her behavior was making more sense.

Nigel almost didn't register Hank's response, it being as anti-climatic as it were, drowned out by the magnitude of everything else that happened in that room. He wasn't surprised by Hank's answer, and he didn't have the energy to follow up the pursuit with any stern word fitting his teaching past. "Forget it. Trying to talk sense into you two is like throwing pebbles at Aurelian Wall." Nigel muttered, though he was surprised when Hank actually spoke some sense in a hushed voice. Did…did Hank actually care? "But we can try." was Nigel's equally hushed response, just as he registered Ashton's apology to Tatiana. Perhaps things were going to turn out okay in the end?

Not when another fight broke out, this time between Hunter and Beatrice. "Oh for the love of God!" Nigel exclaimed in the shock of it, looking baffled at the woman having excellently pinned the soldier to the ground, then to Erica. Why did this always happen, people not listening to "Hadrian" and then shit hitting the fan? Students, friends and survivors, it was an never-ending cycle. "Will someone stop this madness?" Nigel started moving towards the brawl, ready to intervene if it didnt end. If nobody else was going to have the good sense of stopping it, then he would.

---

---

---

---

---

It took a lot for Victor to ask for help but he knew he needed it. He'd been alone for so long, too long. He held hope that there would be people he knew here, that had made it ahead of him, but he still held that part of his hopes closed off inside his heart. He knew that the likelihood of there being anyone here and that if anyone had made it, they'd likely not be the same people he'd known before.

His heart rate began to quicken and his throat started to constrict and ache as he heard them calling for a doctor. He was nervous, he knew there was something wrong with him, he had a rough idea what it may be but he was afraid to find out for sure. He continually hoped that it was nothing, that it would go away on it's own, that he was feeling it more exaggerated than it would be if he were in a safe place. Victor didn't know what was to come and he was scared. He worked on controlling his breathing as best he could, now was not the time to show more weakness than he could help.

Taking some deep breaths to get his heart rate down, Victor placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart and noted that it had stopped rattling inside his rib cage. That was better. Noticing that Atticus was coming towards him, Victor reflexively took a half step back as he watched him approach but stopped himself from recoiling back any further. He kept his eyes focused as the man of God knelt down and grabbed something from his pack, Victor started suddenly when he heard a crack but then relaxed just as quickly once he realised it was a cool pack, nothing sinister with that.

Hesitantly, Victor took it from Atticus and nodded in acknowledgement and silent thanks to him. He rubbed his fingers gingerly over the cool surface before placing it on the back of his neck as advised by the unexpectedly kind stranger before him. He remained in place as the older gentleman moved towards them, advising him that he would not only need to give up his weapons, but that he would need to give up his belongings as well. That hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Instinctively, Victor turned his back away from the two men and guarded his pack with his body and he dropped his hand from the cool pack as it shifted around and grabbed at the compass beneath his t-shirt, his fingers clasping around it as he scowled in thought. He did not want to part with his wife's glasses, as broken as they were, or from his notebook of flora nor his trusted friend that lay against his chest each day. "I understand weapons, but belongings? I... what 'arm could belongings do?" His voice trailed off as he spoke more to himself than the two men before him. His face screwed up for a fraction of a second, a moment of upset that he quickly shoved deep back down. His eyes glazed over and he looked at the ground, thoughts spinning through his mind. He was no longer aware of where he was or who was around him.

As Atticus directed a question towards Victor again, both men waiting for him to hand his belongings over to them, he snapped out of his mental world with a jolt. He blinked rapidly, coming back to the here and now and took a deep breath that tickled his throat and caused another cough to leave him and he turned his head away from Atticus and his colleague to save spraying them with spittle. He wiped the corner of his mouth gingerly with a shoulder and licked his lips before speaking. "Yes, very long while." He nodded pretty absently as he considered his next words.

Handing his walking stick towards the gentlemen slowly, he spoke carefully. "Will I 'ave my things returned?" He looked more towards the older gentleman as he spoke, he had a feeling he held more authority out of the two men in regards to this particular topic. He clipped open the knife holder from his belt and handed it over as well. Tucking the cool pack into his shirt collar to be more comfortable and save it falling down his shirt, Victor reluctantly slipped his arms out of the pack straps and held it in his left hand. "Can I keep anything? 'Ow long until they are returned, can you say?"

He reached into his pack and felt his fingertips along the broken frames of the glasses and then over the tattered spine of his notebook. He did not want to lose them. He kept his eyes at his pack, his right hand stroking and moving his belongings around in his pack. "I just... I must know s'il vous plaît." He lifted his hand out and grabbed the string holding his compass around his neck and lifted it over his head, unhooking the string from around his ears as it caught on them as he pulled it up. He draped it carefully into his pack and carefully wrapped the string around his notebook loosely, keeping them together, then closed his pack over. He felt the weight of his pack and chewed the inside of his lower lip before offering his pack to Atticus.

---

Temperature: 94F (34C)
Humidity: Fucking High (Around 98%) - Raining off and on all day
Wind Speed: 7 MPH (11 KPH)
Cloud Coverage: About 51% covered with thick dark clouds

---

At the gate Maddoc watched Victor with a keen eyes and they narrowed. "Why does everyone who comes here needing help think they are entitled to question shit when we are out in the open and deadies could bite their ass. Possessions won't do shit if you get bit." It was harsh but it was truth. Maddoc was of the mind set that beggars should not and could not be choosers and frankly after earlier in the day, he didn't want to listen to questions again.

Atticus looked at Maddoc and rolled his eyes. He believed the same but they were at the wall and had snipers above them. Looking back at Victor he held out his hand. "You can keep nothing but the clothing on your back for now. Everything must be searched for drugs, weapons, and cleaned to ensure no one gets sick. We have 300 people inside our walls. Personal items will be returned after the 1 week quarantine. All will be returned if you decide to leave. Once you step inside that gate though, you are in quarantine for the week no matter your decision."

"Your choice Napoleon. Hand everything over now, or we walk without you," Maddoc said and Atticus gave the man a look as he kept his hand held out. There was a honk from behind the gate. "Docs here, now or never."

"Come on man, would your loved ones, dead or alive, want to you to turn away help for what is out there?" Atticus added. This was Victors last chance, if he didn't hand things over this time, he wasn't getting in the gate and that was made obvious as Maddoc started stepping backwards towards the gate as he watched the man.

Atticus smiled a bit as Victor handed his things over. It was good that while the man had questions he offered his things over anyways. It was a testament to the man. "Nice, don't worry man. We've got ya," he said as he took the stuff and and gave a thumbs up to Maddoc.

"Open the gate!" Maddoc called up and it wheeled open. Inside the gate was a jeep with a man driving it, he was in scrubs. Another gate was behind him. Seemed they had a double gate system. The man in scrubs climbed out of the jeep and ran over, holding his stethoscope in place as he jogged.

"I'm Michael, everyone just calls me Doc. Let's get you in the jeep and over to quarantine. Get you cleaned up and a basic physical. Gonna have to draw some blood, hope you are okay with that," he said as Atticus took Victors things and walked passed the gate and put them carefully into the back of jeep before climbing into the drivers seat so that Doc could keep an eye on the man. "Need a hand or can you get into the back seat on your own?" he asked. The jeep was a old rag top without the top or the doors. If the man needed help he would give him a hand. If not, he would just walk next to him and climb in to the other back seat once he was situated. Once everyone was inside the gate and it was all clear. Maddoc gave the order to close the gate and climbed into the front passenger seat, waiting for Preacher to start it up.

Back in Quarantine, Panama looked over at Tatiana as she came over. She didn't seem to be any danger and looked to have calmed to some point. "Just toss them against the wall there for now Lil' Momma," he said as he motioned beside him and Major. The Major just kept watching her, giving a slight nod towards Tati in confirmation to what Panama had said. They could clean them out later as more changed. As Ash came over, Panama seemed a little more tense but he still wasn't doing anything. It seemed that Ash wasn't going to take revenge on her for hitting him, in fact he was the one apologizing. Major quirked a brow and watched.

Their attention was diverted when Beatrice tackled Monroe and Panama let out a huff as he thumped his straw cowboy hat up a bit. The Major simply observing, and catching sight of Hank seeming to cut of Wayne walk towards the kid that was just put to the ground. As Nigel asked if anyone was going to stop the madness, Major shook her head. "Everyone fights, it's what happens after that matters."

Panama rolled his eyes. "We ain't babysitters, and you ain't kids. Seems some of y'all ain't easy to get along with and some of y'all are a bit of a bitch but hey stand there wanting people to do shit for ya. Our job is to make sure you don't leave until yer cleared by the Doc and Gunny. So why don't ya nut up or shut up fella. Shit, watching y'all I'm surprised Lil' Momma ain't decked more than one of ya, and Juggernaut there, bitch got a nice way of diffusing a situation. But hey, that's just my opinion," he said as he popped the rim of his hat up with a thump of his finger. "Hey, what you think Peanut Butter?" he asked directing his talk to Wayne, who seemed to be trying to move towards Monroe but his buddy was cutting him off.

*Remember to check your CS's before you post periodically to stay on track. Those with large or oversized images, please resize them to something smaller.

---

---

---

Tatiana looked behind them as Panama told her where to put her gown and robe now that she had changed out of them. She balled them up in her hand and tossed them over. She looked to be calming down and looking a little nervous again. "Dank you," she said to them. She heard what was said behind her but she didn't move. Just cringing slightly at one of the replies. As Ash came over to her she wondered how it was going to go. It could have gone multiple ways. He wasn't exactly the easiest person to get through to, she had learned that first hand when she was trying to get him to deal with the loss of Alicia. That had taken a while and she had had James to help. That was a long time ago and they were both different now. Her more than him. Her head turned as he spoke and she nodded slightly, biting her bottom lip. She could hear the emotion in his voice and when he admitted he needed help she sighed a bit. "I knov you do."

There was a stop in what she was saying as the major started speaking. "₁да," she confirmed to Major before looking back at Ash. The ballerina looked a bit sad. She hadn't wanted to hit him but it happened. "Vas only vay to get through to you," she said as she tilted her head and sighed a bit. There was method to the little woman's madness. She knew Ash, probably better than anyone at this point. At least mentally. If he wouldn't talk to her, she knew she had to knock some sense into him somehow. The fact she had been holding in a lot of her own pain at the time, that he had dismissed her. It was simply a trigger. There may have been a better way but not a faster one in her mind. It was better to get his attention the physical way. Like ripping a bandage off or popping a joint back into place. He'd been in some dark places before, she wasn't letting him get there again.

It seemed that Tatiana wasn't the only one that figured that sometimes it was better to take a physical approach towards a situation. Her head snapping around to see Beatrice had pinned Hunter to the ground and then threatened to snap his arm. That had not been expected but considering she and the woman who had asked Tatiana to teach her to dance seemed to be protecting the man without a leg, it wasn't surprising.

It was time to deal with another matter, turning she walked over to her husband. Kneeling in front of Jack she let out a sigh. "Stronger because of pain. Jamie fine. He baby. Cannot shield him from everything. Shouldn't. Make him veak. Veak no survive. He heard vorse. He seen vorse. He vill see more. Cannot stop. Shouldn't. Must learn to survive. I did, alone, for months, with newborn. He can handle," Reaching out she brushed back her sons hair and he giggled, she smiled at him. "Dat's my boy." Looking back at Jack the smile faded. "Ash is family too. Not pretty but needed. Vould do same to you. Be protective yes. Not to point vhere veakness vins." Standing back up she kissed her husbands brow. "Nothing to stop you from giving me hug after that. Protection come many form." It seemed she was a bit disappointed in her husband as well. She didn't want him stepping into the matter when she slugged Ash, but afterwards, he could have at least gotten off the couch. Baby or no, she would have for him. If she couldn't count on him for some form of comfort when she was dealing with her worst, when could she count on him?

Looking back at Ash, Tatiana sighed a bit. "I vill help you," she said as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She would have said more but then took a bit of a turn and her head turned on a swivel as she heard Panama talking and Wayne taking the deepest breath she had ever heard. Her brow quirked as she looked towards the man that had helped get her and her son food.

---

---

---

Wayne had a lot of personality. Most of it was bad. He was self-loathing, he hated himself. He had a big mouth, a short fuse when it came to somethings. He really didn't like people even though he liked being around people, it was a contradiction and it rarely worked out for the best. He knew every bad and dark thing about himself and his mind was in a very hellish place right then as he moved towards the kid who had mouthed off at the mother. Hank jumping in front of him probably wasn't the best idea but if anyone knew Wayne, it was Hank. They had known each other before the outbreak, even before Wayne had taken a trip upstate to the mental institution. He stopped and looked at his hetero-life mate. His eyes glazed over. Oh he had ideas for the kid. Ripping his tongue out and serving it for dinner was one of just a dozen little ideas rushing through his head.

There was a demented grin on his face when he was asked if he had any ideas. "Oh I got ideas," he said in a sick voice. His eyes never left the kid as he looked over Hanks shoulder. Thing was because he was looking he caught the full show of Beatrice pulling a WWE move and knocking the kid to the ground. "HA!" he laughed as he watched the kids body crumple to the ground beneath her. That was a hell of a tackle. "Dropped him like a toilet seat!" He was smiling right then, broadly, too broadly.

That was about the time he heard Sportacus spout off about someone stopping the madness. Turning his head his smile turned into a twisted grin. "Madness? This! Is! Sparta!" Yeah, Wayne wasn't exactly the most likeable fella and when Panama went on his little speech he just stared at Hadrian before turning his head at the mention of peanut butter. Then he noticed that was directed at him.

"Me? Oh you want my opinion? On them?" he said motioning around the room. Wayne might have been nuts but he wasn't stupid. He was observant and efficient. He had once been a hell of a detective and while he was no fucking Freud with a big couch and cigar fetish, he could notice a lot by the way spoke and reacted to situations. The fact he was in a mood to beat someone's ass and he had a nasty streak of ruthlessness in him, he was about to probably become the most unliked man in the group.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood with his legs a bit more than shoulder length apart. His robe and hospital gown tucked under his arm and the belt still wrapped around one hand. He seemed to be inhaling a very deep breath, until his lungs couldn't hold anymore. "Let's start with the Lost Limb Brigade. One handed Wanda over there, ain't afraid to get in the middle of shit even if she is lacking a palm to bitch slap people with. Kuddos. The Hulk there, got a tackle that could knock The Rock on his ass, I'm taking her as the leader of her group. Peg leg over there, he got some shit. Older than me. PTSD that's gotta learn to crawl out of the jungle. Charlies dead man. And Gramps of the group is just figuring he's too old for this shit. Now my little group of miscreants well, Jelly to my Peanut Butter here. He just a cranky sarcastic old man who just wants a steak and a beer. Sportacus there, he's got a stick shoved so far up his ass he can't ever take a joke. Those who can do teach. Am I right? But he ain't bad and is a bit of a baddass. Our token white girl, she's as stubborn as an old mule and has trust issues but hey, she ain't half bad and has a nice ass."

He stopped but only for half a second to take another deep breath and looked over towards some more before he continued his fast paced rant. "Now onto the fucking worst family unit in history. We got Captain, my Captain fucker over here. He's got more issues than Playboy. Waiting for him to go all Hyde on someone's ass. Feed him to the fucking corpses? Nice one man, I like that. I'm stealing it. At least he knows he has issues. Daddio over there, oh ain't you the winner of Husband of the year? You're woman obviously could use a fucking hug but you couldn't bother to get off the damn couch. Pick up the damn kid and at least hand your wife a tissue. Or you waiting for her to kick ass and then get in the kitchen and make you dinner? Oh and let's not forget the Sinead twins over here. One having a nervous breakdown, and one walking away from her, to another non-issue at the fucking time. Bitch commit to one person with a fucking problem before trying to stick your nose into shit."

He laughed and held out his shit to Hank, if Hank took it great, if not, his hand opened anyways and it hit the floor. Looking towards Panama he continued. "You, I'm figuring you're an ass, likes to stoke the fire and have some fun. We need to grab a beer. Major darling there, that bitch is cold hard core something. I'm figuring she's one that has about as nasty of a left hook as Red over there. Your preacher has probably taken more souls than he's saved. Maddog only wants people to shut the fuck up so he can do his job. And Sweet Daytona, I hope she's fucking single cause I'd love to do a whirl around the world with her."

He was stepping around a little now. "Don't think I forgot about you two," he said pointing towards Tatiana and then Hunter still pinned on the ground. "I just had to save the best for last." Walking over to Hunter he squatted down. "Now kid, you've been threatened twice and knocked on your ass once. I'm going to be the nail in your fucking coffin. You don't know shit about shit. I want to clue your fucking ass in. One, she obviously Russian. Heard her talk? Two, she's a fucking mother. Ever heard of Momma Bear? You think what she did to Cap' over there was bad? I bet that ain't shit. Now, follow me here. She's alive with her family, as fucked as they are, together. You're a god damn kid, with no one. Seems she knows a bit more about surviving than you do. You're lucky she didn't rip your throat out with her bare bands. You're lucky I didn't. You're lucky the worst you got so far was knocked on your ass. See that kid of hers? He ain't made a peep during all this. He's happy, healthy, and don't react to shit. She's obviously done a fucking better job at raising him than your did you. So let me tell you this. If you ever speak to her or any mother like that again, I will personally rip every last tooth out of yer fucking jabber jaw and string it on a necklace. Capisce?"

Standing up he looked over towards Panama as he started stepping towards the pair of recliners. "Me? I'm a crazy fucker who sees a talking bucktoothed fucking fairy-corn who won't shut the fuck up about being nice. That ain't me. But you know what? I always knew I was an asshole but some of you fuckers. I doff my goddamn hat to you, if I had a hat, because you make me seem like good guy and that take some shit." Shrugging he plopped down in his recliner and put his feet up. "At least, that's what I think but hey, I'm an asshole." Funny thing was, during his entire rant, he didn't raise his voice once. He just laid it all out there. Either he didn't give two fucks or he was off his meds. Probably both. Wayne Zero-Fuck's Maldonado people.

---

---

---

---

---

---

Things seemed to be getting worse by the second. The voice that cut him off was the boy who admitted to being a soldier in the showers. Manny thought he seemed to young for that, but he struggled to judge that sometimes. But he went on a rather long rant against the small woman who had knocked over the other soldier. He got loud, he went on a while, but it seemed very delayed, Manny wondered what had caused that. He wondered what held the boys attention long enough to delay this kind of rant. He couldn't tell what he was trying to get out of it either, if he was trying to be helpful in a rather shitty way, or if he just felt like busting skulls for the hell of it. No matter the reasoning, Manny still disapproved of the boy's behavior. Even though Manny wasn't a fan of how the situation was playing out, it had started to die down, and people were going back to isolating themselves. Not the ideal solution, but it worked for the time being. The boy picking things up again would only lead to things getting worse.

After several people had explained to the boy why he shouldn't do what he did for a lot of reasons, Manny looked for the guards again. And it seemed he wasn't the only one. The one who was dressed as an ancient soldier had also pleaded with the guards to intervene and stop this madness before it got worse. Trying to keep track, he wasn't sure if that was before or after Beatrice had tackled the boy to the ground. "Shit, fucking shit." He said in a hushed tone to no one in particular. He wondered if the guards would react to her too. But... they didn't... they did nothing... Nothing at all. What kind of guards were they? Though with listening to their response to the ancient soldier, he seemed to get the idea. Prison guards. Their job was to just make sure they didn't leave, and they didn't give two shits past that.

Between the fear of a military dictatorship, and the lack of professional behavior he had witnessed since he arrived, Manny was even more concerned then before. He wanted this place to work out, but they had some pretty serious problems. It was almost like these people found a book on how to do things, but didn't really care about how it was done, as long as it was done. Manny tried to look around for any glimpse of hope that would reassure him that things were looking up, but found none. Manny remembered something an English professor told him while he was getting his degrees. The real world sucks, there are no Utopias. The closest you can get is a place with the appearance of a perfect world, just to destroy your hopes. Dystopia. He always thought of that professor as a very negative man, but now more then ever his words made sense. Manny wasn't sure he wanted to see what this place was like outside of this motel.

But Manny was a glass half full kind of guy. Even if the forces in charge here had their problems, the place still had their best chance to survive. And if the guards weren't going to get off their ass and do something, Manny would. One of the other men who decided to describe everyone to the best of his ability had given a brief description of Manny. "Age is as much a mental state as it is a physical, but you are damn right I am done with this shit." Though he didn't raise his voice he was annoyed. He wasn't a soldier, he wasn't a guard. He was a fucking dentist who had made great use of some old hobbies of his. He was once a kid who made stupid choices, and didn't correct them until someone very close to him had perished. But he would be damned if he wasn't going to do something now, he wasn't going to be like those lazy fucks at the door.

---

---

---

---

---

---

To put it simply, Hunter had fucked up. He wasn't sure what was going through his head at the time, his rant was very unlike himself. He wondered if ti was built up stress letting loose due to a lack of fear or stress of anything else, or if it was something else entirely. No matter the reason, he had fucked up. He had the attention of the whole room, and he wasn't a fan of that. He had a few options here, and he had to make sure he chose them wisely. Option one, the least likely to work, fight his way to Izibell and get the fuck out. But using only a coffee cup, with several well armed guards, and several other people with military training of some kind, he didn't think that would work. Even if he had all of his gear plus body armor, he wasn't sure that was likely to work. Option two, shut the fuck up and pretend it never happened. No one else would forget, but maybe they would leave him alone long enough for another play. Option three, beg for mercy. He wasn't very good at putting up a show, but he might have been able to pull something off. But he had some pretty poor people skills. His last option was let the guards get involved, but it seemed they didn't really care to do that. He thought that odd, even when he pulled guard duty at the stadium, despite him having no experience there, part of his job was to prevent fights and conflicts from getting out of control. He wondered if their definition of control was staying in this room. Negating option four. No matter what he did, he couldn't let himself do that again, or anything like that.

The Russian mother responded with a simple statement. Sure, he didn't know her specific situation, but she didn't know his situation either. She didn't know the things he had to do to stay alive, the things he did for others, the things he did to find his family again. He did know that the kid losing their mother because she lost her shit was stupid. Though looking back, taking a moment to think about it, there was a lot of better ways he could have said that. Truth be told, he wasn't worried too much about the mother herself, he was more worried about the little one losing what family they had. The guy that had been sucker punched decided to threaten him too, Hunter took note, but said nothing. He noted that he was the about the same height at him. Hunter wasn't sure if he believed the threat, but he said nothing. Though he wasn't sure about the Gem comment. More people came, many with their own threats and promises. Hunter didn't speak a word, though his face did do that smirk he had whenever someone mentioned his military career. Though it wasn't a smile of joy. One that if he was speaking would say something along the lines of Shut the fuck up, the old military is a joke now. Nothing left but ego maniacs and tyrants. At least once shit hit the fan. But he tried to keep that grin down too.

What he did take note of was the girl about half a foot shorter then he was bringing him to the ground. He was surprised by this, he avoided playing football for this exact reason. He tried to get up, but he was pinned, and pinned well. His best guess, she had experience. And unlike the threats from the others here, he thought that that guards might do something with all this going on, but they didn't. He took note of this, and would need to remember it. Hunter tried to move at first, but it wasn't much use, he was too weak in his current state to do so. It made sense in his mind, he had been on a starving diet for a while now, barely eating enough to stay alive. Barely able to carry the gear he had, and debating what he would drop when he became too weak to travel with it all.

He knew for sure though, he couldn't might his way out of this. He was too weak, too light, and had no way to gain leverage again. Plus, even if he did get her off, what then? Maybe what he remembered of his training would kick in like muscle memory, but going back to option one, he couldn't fist fight everyone using only a coffee cup. "Get The Fuck Off." He spoke stern, but didn't raise his voice. He was struggling to breath like this, he had to think fast otherwise he was fucked. He tried to think his way out of it, but lacked the means to do anything. After a moment, he calmed down, and was ready to cooperate. A year or two while he was still at peak strength he could have probably gotten out of this, and even had the strength to pull something off. Even if unlikely. now, no. It took him a moment to swallow his pride, but he began to speak and yield. "Okay..." He took a few deep breaths still struggling for the words.

One of the old men, the one who Hunter made note of to use as a shield if shit hit the fan came over to Hunter at the end of his rant. He was ready to take it and move on, but a few of the chords he struck were... harder to ignore. Bringing up that those here had someone, he was alone. He was able to distract his emotions with the next sentence, how he knew nothing about surviving. He found that funny, even started chucking a bit. "Yeah I guess I do suck at kissing ass to strangers, but I think I got the rest of it down." Probably not the best thing to say, but he needed to distract himself from being reminded how alone he was. His laughter died when his mother was brought up. "You can say whatever the fuck you want about me, but you fucking leave her out of this. She's an amazing woman who did Nothing to you." He spoke in a calmer tone then he meant, but he was still struggling to breath while pinned. He let the man leave, Hunter was left in his thoughts now. "Fine.... whatever. Shutting up." He spoke. He tried to stay practical, but it was hard. "Just... let go of me." He said in one of the calmer tones he had used that day.

---

---

---

---

Riley looked towards Ashton for a moment, and looked down a bit she certainly did act out but all she was trying to actually do was try and help out and defuse the situation. She didn't know these people at all really and for all she knew the smallest bit of confrontation would make them take action. All she was doing was trying to prevent that, at least they hadn't done it at all yet which was good then as her eyes turned towards the others in the room. And then looked back towards Amelia and held her girlfriend as closely as she could towards her. Riley wanted to make sure that Amelia was comfortable and safe as well, and let out a soft sigh as she gently rubbed Amelia's back to try and comfort her as well. Riley took a moment to watch as Tatiana got changed, remember seeing the various scars while they were in the showers, she bit her bottom lip and looked away she wasn't sure if Tati would trust her to talk about them at all either.

"Once we get our rooms we can talk more privately." Riley said towards Amelia as she comforted her, and then Hunter decided to open his trap again rather loudly and gave the man a rather annoyed glare she really did not like him one bit now. Sure she was a bit pissed off at Tatiana Riley would eventually try and fix things Beatrice of course quickly jumped in and pinned the guy down and threatened to break his arm.

They didn't really get along to well before Newnan fell but she stuck up for them now and thought about maybe talking to her again, and then Panama asked what Wayne thought about the group. Riley looked at some of the people who he started out talking with, giving his thoughts on the group and then eventually went to their group. Riley looked down at Amelia feeling bad she had left her to her own devices to try and help she gave her another tight hug as she tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry." Riley whispered to Amelia.

---

---

---

---

Erica stared at Hank for a moment as he continued to talk sarcastically towards Nigel which did rub her the wrong way a little bit as she ran a hand through her hair. And the Hunter kid started to speak up again and berate the mother, she wanted to sock the guy in the face right now. Though she had lost her child a very long time ago, she rarely ever did say anything about her daughter to anyone she wished she hadn't handed that over either and sighed slightly. And then the other woman ran over and tackled Hunter to the ground and watched him for a little bit, the guy did deserve it after all. It also did annoy her that he had the same exact last name she did and everyone probably would associate her with him as well.

Erica watched as Tatiana got changed seeing all of the scars again made her cringe and shudder seeing them, she had her own fair share of course, but none as bad as her's either. Erica's attention turned towards Wayne as he answered Panama's question about everyone in the room, of course she was pretty stubborn and never trusted anyone really. It took a long time for her to trust Wayne, Hank and Nigel as well but she felt she could watch their backs. "At least those drugs haven't fried your observation skills yet." Erica said jokingly as she gently patted Nigel on the back. "I think the kid learned his lesson as well." Erica said before turning around and made her way towards her seat and sat down.

---

---

---

---

They've been here just for a little while and everything seemed to be crumbling away... sort of. Chaos was erupting between the people present and it was only making Amelia ever more stressed out about all of this dammit. All she could do was cling to the one calming presence to her mind. Granted things also seemed to be a little on the working out phase as seemingly Ash and Tati were regaining talking moods, only for yet another fight to break out when the dog fella was tackled down by Beatrice, with rather much force. Then all seemed to shift their anger and frustrations towards Hunter. Amelia didn't like him for multitude of reasons, some more logical than others and the fact he kept a dog didn't fucking help. She barely registered the words spoken to him, but got the gist of it, and that being they were warning him how to talk about Tati.

She just couldn't take this much longer. The guards gave a direct explanation they weren't going to intervene here. Then there was this person who just also flipped out on a great rant, that made Amelia shudder as he listened to him. He said it in the end himself, he wasn't sane. The way he was speaking and what he was saying also sounded pretty darn violent. She clung held onto Riley, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

Finally Riley gave her an apology after the man's rant, apparently affected by the statement that was given. Amelia just nodded." It's alright... just don't leave again." She added in barely a whisper. Holding onto Riley as if to make sure hte other woman will not move away again. Where was that Preacher man, Amelia didn't want to stay here with all these people for any longer. She wanted to get away and let the tempers calm down a lot." Where's that Preacher..." She mumbled, pondering how long should they wait here.

---

---

Talk, talk, talk. A lot of talking in this room. Some of it was posturing but a little was common sense. This was what it was like to be around more than a few people at once. She was taken in by the lure of a decent meal, no doubt, but the behavior of the people in quarantine brought her guard slamming back up. She kept her stance, partially obscuring Alexander from the people in front of them, but did turn when her peripheral vision caught the blurred form of Beatrice wordlessly obliterate whatever points that kid had left on his Man Card. Thalia smirked, trying to suppress a chuckle but not succeeding fully; it was always her nature to handle things as directly as possible whenever she could and that fit the bill precisely. Yeah, the guy put up a good front and answered Beatrice as best he was physically able. Thalia knew from experience that it was hard to sound like a badass when you're faceplanted and pinned to the ground.

The whole incident reminded her of how she used to be, years and years ago. So much misplaced anger. So much sadness. All of that rage and no actual ability to back it up. Her father's people fixed that attitude, and fast. Okay, maybe not fixed, but most certainly redirected and taught respect. After that lesson was learned, sometimes with painful examples, she was ready to truly accept their instruction. Maybe that was the lesson that he needed to learn: Respect. Or maybe he just needed to be put down. That was a concept of which Thalia was very familiar.

Thalia was becoming uncomfortable with their surroundings. Not as much as Alexander, apparently. She quickly grabbed up her cup of coffee and hooked her other elbow under Alex's arm and around his back. Being minus that hand, it was half symbolic support. "It's alright, man. Don't worry about what you said. Nothing too bad." Her words were quiet but direct as she led Alexander back to his chair. When they arrived, Thalia eased him back into the seat and pressed her cup into his hands. "You forgot your coffee theah, Mugs." He probably needed something warming to drink more than she did.

As soon as Alexander was seated, Thalia gave a glance back to Beatrice. She allowed herself an actual smile, looking at the efficiency with which she handled herself. It was a good thing that they weren't out in the world. Good for the younger soldier, anyway. The customs of Thalia's people were significantly more final. She imagined that Beatrice entertained a similar philosophy; if not Before then certainly in more recent years. There was just something about watching the girl manhandle Hunter that gave her a sense of personal pride. "Sorry I called you an angry cunt beforah, Bea. You'ah carved out of cold, solid marble, girl."

Others had much to say. Especially the older guy who kept swatting around himself. He gave a fair amount of three second assessments to everyone, but she wasn't listening past anything more casual. The guy was talking, drawing attention to himself. It gave her an opportunity to look over everyone else. Just observe. Ash's change of heart. Jack's defensive response. Tatiana's scolding of her husband. Manny's unwillingness to engage (and she really couldn't blame him). The Sinead Twins sticking quietly to each other. The guards who weren't really there to guard them. This day was was a goddamned roller coaster, and part of Thalia wished that she was back outside of the walls - maybe up a tree chewing on a squirrel she had recently taken out with a pointed stick.

---

---

Hank had his back turned when Tatiana began to change. He didn't catch the whole show of horror and abuse until the very last second, but that second was enough to understand a couple of things about the woman. He did get a good, solid eyeful of that slip of a girl with the bright blue-grey eyes single-handedly bring the concept of professional wrestling back to the Florida panhandle. Oh yes, Hank accepted the bathrobe, belt, and gown from his hetero lifemate when it was offered - so far as he was aware, it was either take it or let the guy commit murder in front of an armed presence. Hank was pretty sure that would provoke a response that he wasn't keen on seeing. Hank would be a liar if he ever said that he didn't exhale a relieved sigh when Wayne monologued his own personal critique of ...everybody, apparently. The assessment of Hank's character was fair enough, it earned the man a quick and quiet thumbs-up. Nothing out loud, mind you, as he didn't want to interrupt the man while he was on a roll. Hank did give a regarding brow furrow and nod in agreement as the man mentioned the woman called "Daytona", though he suspected that it wasn't her real name. Aside from that, he just gave a more relaxed smile and listened to the parade of roasts as they came up, one by one.

Then out of nowhere, the abrupt smack of flesh colliding with flesh sounded to his side. "Holy shit, sister," he exclaimed, fully turning around to get a better view of the scuffle now that it was on the floor. Maybe this would suffice to keep the monster that was Wayne at bay; Lord only knew that if that man got his hands on the kid, there wouldn't be the same kind of cool restraint that was being shown by the lady who now held the kid down. Ladies first and all, and lady or not, she looked to have called dibs. As Hank walked past, eager to get back to his own recliner, he did give a piece of encouragement to the guy pressed against the floor:

"Way to void the warranty on those testicles there, buddy." Admittedly, it could have been more supportive. At least he meant well. Kinda. Or not really, so long as it didn't interfere with naptime later. "Don't you worry, Mary Beth. First day's the hardest. Allllll downhill from here, but if I were you, I'd find a friend." Hopefully, he'd remember and take the advice after he regained a more vertical stance.

The next minute of his life was spent rolling the A/V stand back into position, queuing up "Lazy Town", though with a respectful lowering of volume, and settling his posterior back into the recliner from whence he came.

---

---

---

---

---

"Thank you," breathed Ash, speaking to Tatiana. He had waited until she was done speaking to her husband, partly out of respect but also partly because there was no way in Hell that Ash was getting in the middle of a marital conversation about how to raise their baby. He had likewise not responded directly to Jack's rebuttal of his earlier statement, and fully intended not to. There was no profit to be had in continuing to poke the bear, as it were. He was on edge. They all were. But luckily, there was a complete stranger on standby to discuss exactly what everyone's personal idiosyncrasy was. To Ash's surprise, he was pretty damned accurate. At least as far as he could tell from the long-term observations of the people he knew in the room.

Ash again waited until the speech was over to give remark. When he did, it was directed to his own extended family more than to the man himself. "Yeah, man's right. I got issues. We've all got issues. Every one of us has had to do some of the worst crap of our lives to survive. I'd like to think it was for each other, and we're damn lucky to have that. We've all made promises. I know that every one of us has had to kill at some point just to keep going. The last year and a half we've lost more people than I care to say anymore, and it weighs on me like a goddamn stone around my neck."

He sighed and shook his head. "Knowing now that I lost Thana..." His voice cracked a little yet again. He was saying it out loud as a means of battling back any remaining denial, and it might have been obvious. "Knowing. I needed that. And it's goddamn eating me, to be honest." Tears were in his eyes now, spilling quietly even as his face remained mostly still. "If I didn't have my family - all of you: Jack, Tatiana, little Jamie," He turned to look at the other two women in their party, "Amelia, and you, Superstar," Ash cleared his throat, then appeared to switch gears. "You're why I keep going." Even the people in the Eden Team might fit in that category, despite the fact that he only knew one of them at this point. Estranged by time, distance, and death, his opinion was that they should probably try to acquaint themselves with each other. They had paid a heavy price to make sure his team had a fair chance to survive.

It was no secret that Ash had difficulties expressing his feelings. Even to his ears, his words seemed blocky and awkward. They were sincere, though he couldn't help but figure that the impact was somewhat lessened by the fact that, not too far away from their position, Beatrice still had that young soldier pinned to the ground. His eyes drifted to the scene and focused on it, head tilting slightly to the side like a confused dog. Yeah, that was still happening. Some lessons had to be taught in decisive ways. It wasn't his method to utilize first, but he wasn't going to speak out against it. Ash had given him warning, explained why. What the others did, up to a logical point, was their own business.

Already he could feel the distraction tightening his emotions back up, though it did feel good to let a little out. There was still the business of getting approval from the people in charge for their continued presence, and even afterward, feeling out the settlement. Past that? He still needed to sort himself. For now, they had a week. He might as well rest. Talk. Get to know people again. It had been a long year.

---

---

---

---

---

Alexander never got used to having those flashback-moments where he had no idea where he was or what he did, and probably never would. Few that ol' Mugsy knew before the End Times had gotten used to or over having those moments, but damn if some of them were good at hiding it from the outside world. Normally Alexander counted in that category, but not so much today. Alexander looked to his side to find Thalia helping him along, assuring him nothing bad had happened.

Nothing too bad had been said.

"Okay...must be the exhaustion or something..." Alexander flatly said to Thalia, getting helped into a chair for him to relax his old bum in. He gave her a tired smile, looking in brief surprise at the coffee cup that was his...was it? "Thanks Thalia, you're an angel to ol' Mugsy." Alexander took the cup and held it firmly in both hands, trying to convince himself that it was indeed his own cup. His hands however didn't completely agree with him, shaking ever so slightly as he held the cup tightly, almost unnoticable.

That's when the intervention began. One by one, the crazed-looking guy with the smaller group began his rant about everyone in the room. Everyone including his group; Beatrice, Thalia, Manny, and himself. Alexander 'Mugsy' Polawski, the veteran. Wayne's description of Alexander was short, but spot on. Alexander didn't deny it, he really did have some deep shit of various issues, formalized by some clever egg-heads safe home in the Pentagon as PTSD. He'd seen shit worse than your darkest nightmares, things he'd never wish upon the worst of his enemies. But Alexander never spoke of it, never giving anyone a hook for them to cling their doubts about him onto. And now Wayne had done that very thing, after Alexander had had his moment.

Alexander's hands started shaking more, the cup in his hands spilling some of the coffee onto his robe and legs, as his eyes were locked into Wayne. Why did he have to say those things, those horrible things? "I don't like that guy...He's full of shit, I'll tell you." Alexander managed to whisper through gritted teeth, all his strength in that moment forcing his hands to not shake as they did. This was the very reason he liked his people; Manny might have asked some questions, but they always knew when to back off. Perhaps Alexander lacked the strength that Ash showed by talking to his people? Perhaps he was too old and broken to be helped?

Perhaps he was simply scared. Fear, fear was one hell of a friend to be stuck with.

---

---

---

---

---

It looked like Nigel "Hadrian"'s attempt at pleading to the common sense of the Conference room had failed to spur people into action. Typical, people never listened to him. As he had taken some steps towards Beatrice and Hunter on the floor, the two had so far not given up in their struggle to assert their wills. Hunter couldn't get free from the Amazon's grip, and Beatrice hadn't let go of the slave Helot. And the guard's weren't prepared to do anything. Great, just great.

Nigel "Hadrian" was ready to intervene personally in spite of what Panama said of him, when Wayne took center stage of the new act in a Greek comedy. It was in true fashion of a dramatic play, with Wayne as the herald who introduced each character to take part in tonight's viewing. Everyone from his own beloved Hank, to Ash the leader of the bigger group and finally Wayne himself, they were described in a short but accurate manner that surprised even Nigel himself. But more than that, it was adding onto the pile of things that annoyed him about his group. So he was nothing but a stuck-up Roman who occationally was "badass"? Nigel at this point planted his face into his palm, the other crossed over his chest as support for the first.

"Why...why do I even try?" the Neo-Roman questioned himself, looking up at Wayne as he finished his tirade of exposition, before he shifted his attention to the new events of that night. Beatrice and Hunter were still going on the floor, Hank was being his pure self, Ash were making a sure speech to his group worthy a Roman Senator, while Erica was trying to calm Nigel down. Nigel took a deep, deep breath in while looking at Beatrice and Hunter for a moment. Was there any good way of ending this conflict? Going in and forcing them apart as he had originally planned seemed less good of an option as things were cooling down, and plenty of others had already gone over to talk to them. To Nigel, the best option seemed in his experience to stay back and observe for a little longer. If his presence re-ignited the fuse, then his absence was the most effective.

"...I really hope so, Erica. If not, he'd best head Hank's advice. Never thought I'd say that about Hank." Nigel told Erica, giving the room one last look while he tried to calm down while walking over to Erica, slowly. Though Hunter wasn't the only one who should listen to Hank. The Wayne had spoken about the whole room, only the gods knew how'd they react. Nigel sat down beside Erica, resting his head in his hands again and rubbing his face. "And where's the Athenian priest when he'd needed..."

Temperature: 94F (34C)
Humidity: Fucking High (Around 98%) - Raining off and on all day
Wind Speed: 7 MPH (11 KPH)
Cloud Coverage: About 51% covered with thick dark clouds

---

Panama listened to what Wayne said. He had asked after all and the more the man went on the more he chuckled. He found it all rather funny. Not the assessments so much but the people's reaction to them. Shaking his head slightly as Wayne came to an end he laughed. "You fuckers must have had it easy to get upset over a few damn words. That or yer further off her rocker than Voices is over there." It might have been harsh but it was the truth and it seemed to be confirmed by the Major as she nodded in agreement. They were upset over a little fight between people. About a few words said. More than half of these people were really soft and weak in her mind.

This was life, even before the outbreak. People fought, no one got along all the time and no one was perfect. Everyone had a down side. Those that went on like they were perfect or got offended by the small things were better off dead. They would provide nothing to this community. You needed a thick skin as much as you needed a strong back. And frankly, this town didn't need any of them. They had a good population, had food, resources, people that knew their shit. They had been going since the beginning. Anyone that took in was purely out of kindness, not necessity and yet even now people were acting as if they deserved to be treated better. Right now they were only a drain on their resources and their time. Looking over to Panama, Major finally answered a question from a bit ago. "Twenty percent, at the most," she said before looking forward again.

Panamas head snapped to look at her as his jaw dropped. "Oh snap," he said in surprise before looking over towards Beatrice and seeing her still pinning the kid down. "Alright Juggernaut, let his ass up, doubt he's learned shit from that tackle from the way he's speaking but fuck it. Can't fix stupid," Panama said as he stepped forward. "I've had less drama come from a sleepover of mood teens on their periods." Shrugging to himself, Panama glanced over towards Ash and got an odd look on his face before looking back towards Major and mouthing something to her. She looked just as confused as he did and then shrugged.

Over in Administration, one of the oldest of Camp Mexico Beach sat behind his desk. He was dressed as casual as he tended to get during the warmer months. White cotton slacks and white short sleeved dress shirt. His bright blue eyes looked out from beneath heavy lids. It seemed, no matter how old one got within the family one trait always stood out. Those eyes. He was the Commanding Officer of Camp Mexico Beach, Aeron Martin, locally referred to as The General. "Ahh, yes, interesting," he said as he flipped open one file and started reading over it. His voice was laced with a Welsh accent, fitting considering he had immigrated to the United States, when there still was a United States, back when was younger. He only had one child in tow then. Now he had two. It was a feat in and of itself to have his two sons still alive, though he did wish he had more of his family around.

Sitting back in his seat he kept reading the answers that had been provided, and compared them to the initial notes that had been given to him by those that had brought them in. Stopping he leaned up in his seat and started shuffling through the stack of paper work. Seemed even when the dead walked again there was still paper work to handle. Looking over at the woman who had brought over this newest stack of files he motioned over his desk. "Where is my X.O.'s report?" She gave him a look of she didn't know. Shaking his head he leaned back in his seat. "Where is he?" She didn't have to answer, she just gave him a knowing look and motioned in one direction. "Of course."



The sun was setting in the west and the sound of butchers paper crinkling could be heard in the small cemetery. It wasn't often that anyone visited as it was outside of the walls but today was a special occasion. Wild flowers were wrapped up in a small bouquet and he held them in his hand as he walked through, passed the other tombstones. None of them were expertly made, they did what they could for their dead. Coming to one, he looked at it. A single last name was on the marker, Martin. He stopped and stood there quietly, just looking at it and if one listened hard enough perhaps they could hear his heart drop in his stomach as he swallowed back the welling of emotions threatening to surface.

"Ah," he laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, more like a sad frustrated one that people would let out instead of crying. "Rule number five. Remember the good. Oh I'm trying but it's hard. Especially now when there is so much..." his words trailed off. Turning the flowers over in his hand he sighed to himself and looked up at the sky as several birds flew over head. One couldn't tell their colors as they were nothing but shadows right then against the blue sky. They probably didn't take note of him but he saw them and watched them as they glided on the winds, a few flaps from their wings now and again.

Leaning forward he lay the flowers on top of the grave marker, his hand lingering there for a moment before pulling it away reluctantly. Lowering his head he closed his eyes. His hands clasped before him in prayer. He wasn't a religious man, never really been one for prayer or the like. It wasn't that he didn't believe in god, it was just that they really didn't have a lot of heart to hearts. He figured they would have enough to talk about when he was long gone. But now was different. "Rule 28, if you need help ask. I'm asking. I could use some right now." It wasn't much of a prayer, but he was sure that god would know what he meant.

The high wall could be seen in the distance, it was hard to miss. He needed to get back within the town itself. It was safe inside the walls. Safer. No where was really safe anymore and he knew that. It didn't seem to matter. He was in no rush at first. He had taken his time coming back the last time he had visited. That was the day of the burial. He hadn't come back until well after dark that night. Today though, he couldn't waste that much time in thought, or lack there of as one would try to black out moments to get peace. He needed to get back, he was on watch soon. Not that there weren't others that could have done it but he needed to, for him. For her.

*Remember to check your CS's before you post periodically to stay on track. Those with large or oversized images, please resize them to something smaller.

---

---

---

While Wayne might not have been a psychologist or had training in the subject, Tatiana on the other hand had. Looking over at the man as he was asked his opinion and gave a very long but oddly concise answer, she found herself studying him. Her eyes drifting to each person as he called them out. While she didn't feel he was spot on with everything she did feel that the man had a better grasp on some matters of reality than others did. Turning her head towards those that were their guards she focused more on them and their reactions. Her head tilting a bit as she did. They seemed to react to things the same way they had back in Newnan, there was only a hair difference. They had their shit worked out better when it came to admitting people into their town. And thinking on it, to her, the fact that they weren't getting directly involved spoke wonders. Not that they were lazy but that they were smart. Maybe if Newnan had let a few fights break out every now and again, shit wouldn't have gotten as bad as it did before mother nature took a ballbat to their home.

Ash's little emotional break caused her to looked over to him. There was a look on her face but she didn't say anything against him. Not right then. They would talk, privately, later. She didn't like him going on to why they were the reason he kept going. They weren't why she kept going. Sure it would hurt if she lost Jack. It would probably screw her up for a long time if she lost Jamie but she didn't put her will to live in those around her. She had given her vows to Jack. That if he died, she would keep on living. She intended to keep to that. Everyone died. To put your life on whether or not someone else was still there was foolish. One could never fully live if they were not content, happy, and complete just being alone with themselves. People weren't there to complete you, they were there to accent you and you them. Tatiana loved her husband, she adored her son. Yet even if she lost them, she would keep going. She had made a promise and she was hell bent on keeping it.

Jack hadn't said anything yet but that really didn't surprise her. It seemed that even they were going to have problems now. The biggest one being on how to raise Jamie. Jack seemed to want to protect him, which was good but that wasn't Tatiana's view. Make him strong, that was her view. So one day he wouldn't need protection because one day, she wouldn't be there anymore and if he couldn't handle this world, as it was, without help, then she would have failed as a parent. Screw that. As far as she was concerned as soon as he could walk fully he would be training. Walls were temporary and it seemed the dead were forever now. She used to hate the fact that she had lost her parents the way she had, at the age she had but now... Now she was thankful for it. She learned young how to survive. It was the best thing to prepare her for raising a child in these times.

---

---

---

Wayne looked dead eyes over to the kid as he rested back in his recliner and laughed. "Listen here twat-rocket, you talk shit about another persons mother and I will slander your momma so hard it'll make your ancestors cringe. So watch your mouth boy before I wash it out with a damn bar of soap. Now, get off yer ass once little lady there feels fit to let you up and you watch your self you hypocritical thundercunt." Wayne didn't raise his voice, it was even as he spoke and he had a broad grin on his face as he did. He didn't care what the kid thought, he figured he was two steps above Forest Gump, but he would learn to keep some shit to himself.

Rolling his eyes he picked up his cup of coffee from the table next to his chair and took a long drink. "Yeah, where is Preacher Man? I can't wait to find out who I'm bunking down with," he said as he lowered his cup and glanced over towards Hunter and blew the boy a kiss. Wayne hadn't been in the military, that much was obvious, but he had been through the academy back when he was training to be a cop so many years ago. They didn't give two shits, you went where you were assigned and he was half hoping him and kid would be rooming together. That could be fun. Maybe not the best idea but still fun none the less in his book. Swatting in front of him he smirked. "Oh shit, you are dark today," he laughed as he talked to the air.

Glancing over to his hetero life mate Wayne grinned widely. "You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. You've got troubles, and I've got 'em too," he sang off key before leaning back in his chair once again, tapping the side of his mug as he hummed more of the song to himself. Yeah, that kid needed a friend but it wasn't coming from Wayne. Not that anyone wanted Wayne as a friend, mores the pity. The man was entertaining and when he did like you, there wasn't much he wouldn't do to keep your ass alive. Wayne was crazy but there was method to his madness. Even then. Sure a spilling of everyone's personalities wasn't the nicest thing to do but it gave them something in common. A dislike of the man. Coming together against something you hated was a much tighter bond than even love at times. And Wayne never had a problem being the hated one in the group.

---

---

---

---

---

Jack had thought that he had changed - that he really had. He blamed his inaction previously for costing Sutton her life, for his mother's death. Sutton had left without asking him so that way he could make it out. He hadn't been fast enough to save his mother when the outbreak began. After losing Tatiana, he thought that he wasn't that person anymore - that fear didn't paralyze him, that he could force himself to move forward without any hesitation. But the more things change, the more they stay the same. He had been so confused and worried that all he had been able to do was sit on the couch, trying to keep his son calm as Tatiana and Ash had it out.

Sure, it hadn't been a heartless decision. There was a lot that Tatiana hadn't told him over the year that they were apart - a lot of tragedies that happened to her, sometimes to the point where Jack didn't know if physical contact from him would comfort her or not. He hadn't told her that. He hadn't talked about it. He had been so happy to have his wife and son back that he had bottled up all of that fear and anxiety, trying to convince himself that he really was a different person now. He had changed in some aspects - become more vengeful and dark - but deep down, he still felt like the kid who was too slow - the kid who wasn't fast enough to save his mother from an abusive boyfriend, to save his girlfriend, to save his wife and child.

Seeing Tatiana kneel in front of him... It all came rushing back to Jack's mind. It was happening again. Could she count on him? Could she depend on him? What was wrong with him? He had a million excuses and reasons for why he had stayed with Jamie on the couch, but the guilt and anxiety and fear was gnawing away at him. He wished for what was not the first time in his life that he could turn back the clock, tell his past self what to do, to not be paralyzed into inaction... but that wasn't possible. The dead rising again was the only abnormality in their world.

"I'm sorry," Jack said quietly. He blinked a bit, trying to get the water out of his eyes and he smiled a bit at Jamie's giggling. Maybe he needed some therapy as well. He didn't know how to be a good father - he was trying his very best. He thought that keeping Jamie happy and calm during the fighting match, preventing him from having memories of his mother punching and screaming his uncle was the best choice of action... but maybe it hadn't been. He hadn't had the chance to take a parenting class or anything during the zombie apocalypse. He wished Miss Sally had been there - sure, he probably would've been smacked upside the head by her, but she would have had advice to help. He shut out the voices of those around him, getting off the couch, holding Jamie with one arm and wrapping Tatiana into a hug with his other arm.

"Я не собираюсь оправдываться. Я обещаю вам, что я сделаю лучше - я буду лучшим мужем и лучшим отцом. Я люблю тебя, Татьяна, и это никогда ничего не изменит. Мне так жаль..." he told her, speaking from the heart. He was going to be better. He was going to try his very best. Tatiana and Jamie, Ash, Amelia, and Riley - they were his family. He wouldn't fail them again - he made a promise to himself.

---

---

---

---

---

Alexander was most decidedly not fine in her opinion. Some exclaimed in annoyance as she tackled and pinned Hunter to the ground, but she didn't care. A part of her noted that all of the men present were just sort of doing emotional declarations, while it was the women who were taking physical action - take that, gender roles! She eyed someone moving towards her, but it didn't change her course of action. The attitudes of those watching them didn't help to shake Beatrice out fo the juvi mindset. The guards in juvi had pretty much felt similarly whenever a fight broke out - sometimes they'd intervene, but more often than not they didn't care.

One of the people here seemed to be enjoying her actions - and Beatrice wasn't sure how to feel about that exactly. Instead of contemplating the moral implications or the philosophical ones, she instead turned her eyes back down to the man she had pinned to the ground. Well, he wasn't much of a man in her opinion. The nickname of the Hulk did cause Beatrice to chuckle slightly. "I've been called worse," she said, her way of saying that she approved of the nickname. It was better than Double Decker by a long shot - but she also did like Killer Bea. The stern voice coming from the boy she had pinned caused her to roll her eyes. That hadn't been one of the options she had given him. Speaking with that voice, swearing at her to get off? That wasn't going to give him the outcome he wanted.

She glanced back at Thalia, not wanting to admit that it had bothered her when Thalia called her an angry cunt. She also didn't want to admit that her stomach felt a bit like marshmallow fluff around the woman at times. Her gaze returned to the man she had pinned beneath her. As much as she was angry at him for the things he had done, causing Alex's panic attack, she realized he was too weak to even fight back. This humiliation to his pride might do more than breaking his arm.

"Don't fuck up again," she told him, getting up off of him and rising again her to her full height.

---

---

---

---

---

As the older man began to verbally berate Victor, as slight as it was, Victor could feel his eyes roll at his words. He was all too aware of the complete and impending doom that they lived their lives in, the fact that the man before him acted as if he was unaware offended him. He was already on the fence with this guy, being that he was a person already stood against him, but that he was a person who clearly thought he was smarter than others and he smoked and he held that gun like it was his penis - Victor decided he didn't like him at all. Granted, this man would never know this fact but it was a conclusion Victor needed to mentally confirm.

Atticus on the other hand, Victor didn't quite dislike him as much as Colonel Smarter-Than-You, of course Victor doesn't really know him but based on first impressions he seemed the better sort of what remained of human kind. The idea of being inside, safe, fed and dry, well... Victor nodded as Atticus spoke and he gave the smallest of tweaks at the corners of his mouth in acknowledgement of his answers to his question. Those were acceptable parameters indeed. "Merci Atticus."

Just as Victor was mentally preparing himself for what came next, his new best friend took it upon himself to call him Napoleon. Original. However it actually made him bark out a small laugh in response. It was the most ridiculous thing but it just tickled something inside Victor. His eyes widened in surprise at the noise he just made and the tickling sensation that shot up his throat caused him to cough again for a few seconds. When he stopped he listened to Atticus and finished handing over his belongings.

The noises from earlier made a lot more sense to him as he noticed that the place operated a two gate system. It was very military and made complete sense. He watched as he saw their Doc jumping out the jeep and jogging towards them in his scrubs. It panged some nostalgia for Victor and he remembered when he used to look like that - well, not as physically buff but young, energetic and fit in general. He listened to him as he spoke, he had a good tone of voice, Victor nodded in response to his question but he felt his throat constrict and his body tightened up a bit as he worried for what the results may show but knew he'd handle whatever came along.

At Doc's offer Victor raised a hand and shook his head gently. "Thank you Michael. I believe I will be alright." He walked to the side of the jeep and gripped the open side of the vehicle, hoisting himself inside and settling down into the seat comfortably. He looked towards Doc as he sat in the seat beside him and Victor was glad to see Atticus sitting in front of him in the driver's seat. He hadn't paid attention to where he had went earlier, focusing solely on getting himself into the car without needing help.

This was going to be different. Interesting, for sure, but different. Victor hoped his intuition was right and these people were good people and that, somewhere inside these walls he'd find his lost family and friends.

---

Temperature: 94F (34C)
Humidity: Fucking High (Around 98%) - Raining off and on all day
Wind Speed: 7 MPH (11 KPH)
Cloud Coverage: About 51% covered with thick dark clouds

---

The gate closed behind them once everyone was in the jeep and Maddoc gave a a wave. Above they nodded and the interior gate opened up. Atticus started the jeep up and pulled forward slowly. Doc leaned back in his seat and held onto the roll bar above him. As the gate opened it looked almost as if time had stood still. There were people milling about of all ages but mostly older individuals. People would drive by on golf carts from time to time, families strolling by, children playing ball. People looked healthy and happy, giving a slight wave to the new comer.

"As you can see we have a pretty nice set up going here," Atticus said as he drove slowly through the camp. "To our left you will see one of hydroponic gardens and those buildings over there on the right are some of our housing buildings. That there is our Mess Hall, once you are out of quarantine that's where you will get your meals," he said as he stopped, waiting for a couple of kids to cross the road. "They're heading there," he pointed off to a set of buildings on the left. "That's our education center." Once the kids had crossed the street he pulled forward again and kept driving. "And that's our hospital. Thanks to a hell of a team we have saved more than we've lost," Atticus added.

"Yeah, reminds me. Preacher, you take the meds over to the kid for me while I get him checked out?" Doc asked as they pulled up to a building that looked to once be an old motel. Not a nice hotel or anything but one of those beach motels. Simple set up and such and an empty pool that obviously hadn't been used in years.

Stopping the jeep and turning it off, Atticus nodded. "Yeah, how much?" he asked as he climbed out of the jeep and handed the pack he was carrying over to Michael. Michael took it and hopped out, reaching into his own pack and pulling out a small bottle and measuring cup.

"Five milliliters, let's see how he responds to that. Mark down time on the bottle," he said.

Taking the items, Atticus looked at it before pocketing it and slipping his clipboard under his arm. "Will do. Hey, Victor, just follow Doc and Maddoc. They'll take care of you. I'll see you in a little bit. Welcome to Mexico Beach," Preacher said before turning and heading into the building.

Opening the bag Atticus had given him, Doc pulled out a plastic bag and sharpie as Maddoc climbed out of the jeep and looked around. Looking at Victor, Michael grinned. "So, what's gonna happen is pretty simple. In here is a hospital gown and slippers. I'll take you to the showers, take off all your stuff, shoes included and put it in this bag. Once you are clean you can put on the gown and we'll do a quick physical and I'll draw some blood. We got robes and such inside," Michael explained as he popped the top off the sharpie. "So, what's your first and last name?" he asked, ready to write it down on the bag.

*This is just a gate update - doesn't have anything in it that those already in Quarantine will know about currently.

---

---

---

---

---

---

Manny wasn't really sure how to intervene here, he felt something should be done, especially since local security didn't seem to care. But he wasn't sure what he could do without making things worse. He was no soldier, he wasn't a well trained guard. He was a taller man with some physical strength to his name, though his age restricted that. And he had no reason to believe trying to pull Beatrice off the stupid soldier boy was a good idea. Beatrice was someone he trusted, and someone he Manny could rely on, the boy? Spoke of paranoia and spoke it very loudly. No, he wasn't worth creating tension between those he trusted. Manny was then debating how to handle verbal interference, but after more monologues from one of the other men in this newly formed group, and some more voice raising from the soldier boy, Beatrice let him go. Manny sighed with relief, the guards didn't get involved at this point, but would they have if Beatrice broke the kid's arm? Manny wasn't sure, but was glad to see the restraint she held. No matter how annoying the kid was, someone with a broken arm was someone that needed a lot more help and assistance then someone without one.

Manny made his way over to Beatrice. "Nice job handling the boy there." Manny had been in situations in the past where sometimes violence was the answer, or at least a solid threat of violence worked. Though he wasn't a fan of it anymore, it was used well enough here. "And thank you for not breaking his arm. He may be loud and stupid, but I don't think he poses any real threat. And if it turns out he does, pretty sure you can take him just as well later as you did now." He chuckled, eventually moving to find a chair. He was still worried about the lack of action preformed by the guards, but things seemed to be settling down. That was a plus.

Alexander seemed to have handled this whole thing in less then a pleasant way. Though he didn't blame him, couldn't blame him. His friend had seem some pretty horrible things, even before the world ended. Long before the world they had known even existed the way it did. Manny wished there was a way he could help, but he knew how Alexander didn't like to talk about these sort of things. "How are you holding up there buddy?" Manny asked, trying not to push Alexander too much.

---

---

---

---

---

---

Hunter decided he hated everything about this place. The exception being the coffee. In one day, he had lost his dog without knowing anything happening to her, he had been threatened to be shot for asking questions, had dealt with multiple people who he would rather not deal with, had been ordered to turn over his weapons for a chance this place didn't shoot him, and he had what little left of his pride taken away when he got tackled to the floor, and was unable to do anything about it. He had gotten warnings from roughly half the people in the room, and the girl had eventually let him go. He didn't get up at first, laying on the floor debating if it was worth it to get up at this moment. Eventually he did though, though he didn't feel much better about things when he did. He still felt trapped, and still unsure how to go on with things from here.

He stood, trying to keep a strait face, but he was out of it, and he had a lot of trouble hiding his defeated face. He slowly made his way back to the coffee pot, not saying a word to anyone, avoiding eye contact with anyone, then going to refill his coffee. What surprised him, it seemed to be the last cup. He figured good timing on his part, one last cup. Though, The words of one of the other old men repeated in his head. He needed a friend. But he didn't think anyone in here would trust him at this point. Nor did he think there was anyone here he could trust. Though, thinking about room assignment, he wondered who he would get paired with. Would it be someone that could put up with him? Someone he could put up with? Maybe someone that would leave him alone? He wasn't sure, but the idea of not knowing was upsetting to him. And he wished that these people would get it over with, he just wanted somewhere he could be with less people. He wondered how Izibell was doing, she went easy enough with the others, so hopefully she was having better luck then he was.

---

---

---

---

Riley could feel Amelia shaking in her arms as she held her closely to her and leaned down and gave her another loving kiss and gave her girlfriend a smile and nodded towards her. "I'm not getting up any further." Riley said towards Amelia as she looked at those in the room again. She was pretty entertained seeing Hunter being pinned down by Beatrice, who eventually got off of him after being told to by Panama, as she leaned back in her seat she rubbed the back of her neck slightly as she continued to listen in on some of the conversations going on around her. Then her eyes turned towards Ashton as he addressed the group, well the Newnan people anyway not so much for the other folks and maybe Beatrice's group.

She did feel bad that he had lost Thana in the first place, even though she personally did not know her all that well Ashton seemed to like her and that's all that mattered to her. She looked towards Tatiana, Jack and Jamie as well they were all family as well a bit dysfunctional but they were all family. "I'm sorry for being a bitch to you guys." Riley said, mainly pointed towards Ashton as well as Tatiana, whether they accepted it or not, she would accept that she didn't act the way she should have been. And if they did need her to talk she would be there to help out as well. Riley then leaned down and gave her another quick and loving kiss and smiled towards Amelia to try and calm her down. She was also wondering when Atticus would actually be coming back it was taking him quiet awhile now as well come to think of it.

---

---

---

---

Erica looked over towards Nigel as he started to come back and sat down next to her, as she looked around at the others again the Ashton guy seemed to be addressing his own little group. She wasn't really sure what to think of the group other than they had a little kid with them, she turned her attention towards Hank as he went over and started up the Tinytown show again. Erica shook her head a little bit, even though the guy was with her he seemed to rub Nigel the wrong way to. She looked towards Hunter and Beatrice again, who eventually got off of him hopefully he would actually learn to be more mindful this time. And she really hated the fact that they had the same exact last name to.

"I'm not sure really." Erica said towards Nigel finally when he mentioned the priest, it had been awhile now but she figured he had some other things to tend to right now as well. She stared over at Wayne once more as he spoke to Hunter, she had to give the guy props he was pretty good at reading people. Even if he was on the psychotic side as well, she shifted a little bit in her seat and thought about getting changed looking down at the bag of clothes she was given. She didn't like changing in front of complete strangers right now, and she had been the only girl in the group as well to which always was awkward when she needed to get changed or anything while back on the road as well.

---

---

---

---

Alright, Amelia was getting a really negative feel from the people who were supposed to watch over them. It sounded like they didn't really like the new arrivals and the way the groups were reacting it seemed, going by their words. Well feeling was getting mutual in return. Both the Panama and Major persons each had their own ways of tugging on the negative opinions of Amelia, but she kept quiet about it. First she didn't want to actually cause problems that might affect Riley, second she just didn't want to speak out or to those people. In her mind as far as they were safe and eventually had the option to mostly ignore the annoying people nearly all the time, it was going to be good. She really wished they'd either get lost for now or finally get them somewhere to sleep so the emotions can calm down somewhat. End result on if coming here was a good or bad thing was still in the air.

"Mm... thank you." She gave a quiet reply to Riley and turned to look at Ash who seemed to have a rather out of character thing going on right now, with him getting emotional... at least she supposed this was how he was trying to express it. Some apologies were being thrown around to the people of importance too. Amelia thought about it, didn't speak out right away. Opened her mouth a few times trying to search the words she wanted to use, but took her a few tries before she finally spoke out to Ash and Tati in turns." I'm sorry too... about my reactions to the two of you earlier..." She added quietly, but didn't speak out any further or get in details, but she was sincere in her words. She regretted it now, the way she thought of the important person to Ash and how she more or less labeled Tati as possible danger in her mind. These were people she traveled with for so long, it shouldn't have been like this. She could only hope tomorrow all was better.

Riley giving her a kiss at this situation and the presence of everyone around made her feel embarrassed as she looked down again. She wished she had a book and just shrink down in a corner somewhere. Then with the corner of her eyes she spotted the books... BOOKS! She blinked and looked at Riley." I will grab a book..." She mumbled out before very carefully standing up and moving over to the books, trying to not get too close to anyone else on the way there. She looked over them and well Dr. Suess... a few of them. She grabbed the Cat in the hat and then quickly moved back to Riley and sat down, but this time with a book in hand and feeling a little bit better." Got a nice one." She said to Riley and showed it to her.

---

---

---

---

---

Ash had his moment of open honesty concerning his emotions. While he was not fully closing himself off again, he did assume a more guarded position. This was for a few reasons. First, he did take to notice the look that Tatiana gave him. He had learned to take cues from the people closest to him, people who knew him well. Though he had no idea what earned him the look, he understood that even silent advice from a trusted source speaks volumes. He raised an eyebrow in her direction but likewise said nothing. Later, then.

Secondly, there was the matter of their guards. The periodic commentary seemed chosen specifically to be inflammatory, to wear upon people who have already been through some of the worst that their world had to offer. Some of Ash's own words in front of them put his people out there for almost a year and a half; six full seasons with nobody and nothing to help them except for each other. The last monologue from the one called Panama gave him some unvocalized annoyance, while the taunt from the Major about "20 percent" was a nihilistic display of cold hostility, being aimed at a group of people who were obviously dealing with their own pre-existing traumas. Waving a flag in front of them that threatened very clearly that only some of them would be allowed to stay. So what made someone worthy in their eyes?

Ash gave those thoughts some consideration. The welcome speech they received put this settlement here since the beginning. How many of these people had never had to go through what his people had? Did this bring with it a sense of aristocracy, looking down their noses at the ones that happened across their home after fighting to survive out in the sticks, picking through collapsed houses for cans of salmon and salsa-style tomatoes? Or more to the point of getting the boot, what would be left to scavenge or materials to build with anywhere close to Mexico Beach? It would have been necessary to pick the surrounding radius clean for supplies in the beginning. Being established for more than five years meant that the radius would be substantial, especially with a functional motor pool and a helicopter at their disposal. Getting expelled from the community would probably mean death. Which begged the question: Was all of this some sort of test? Get them feeling vulnerable and keep stirring the pot to see how they would react? Or was this a place with a tribal mentality that had to be addressed?

Then, of course, there was the look that passed between them after Ash spoke. Maybe it was a good thing that Tatiana punched him and he vented some of his frustrations at the way that life had stabbed it in and broke it off at the hilt. He was thinking clearer now. This place was their hope for salvation from the outside world for a long time. Not a vision of utopia, but a place like their Newnan. Maybe it even was, but with the clash of personalities from the survivors and the guards' commentary, not to mention the stakes for not making the cut to stay, this was becoming another type of survival scenario. So, what did his people need to do in order to survive?

For starters, Ash took a look at his people. This place was a community, and most of these people were still keeping to their own groups. It was a good time to... Ash's concentration trailed off for just a moment as he saw Riley and Amelia exchange a gesture of affection. It was warming. Riley's promise not to leave her by herself again was likewise an affirmation of her dedication to her loved ones. Perhaps that was why Ash was puzzled to see Amelia cut an embarrassed expression and immediately leave to go find a book. Considering the number of times that Ash had to bang on the back wall of the Hordebuster, trying to get the two of them to cut down on the decibel level of what he referred to as "Tandem Lesbian Yodeling" with a stern warning of, "You are giving our position away to the enemy! Yet now one was embarrassed. Ash tried to give the benefit of the doubt to the situation, they were in front of a lot of new people, feeling very exposed, and mild violence seemed to be the order of the day. It just seemed horribly counterintuitive to what they had been saying to one another. And a hell of a time for fluctuating emotions. But as Ash was just getting a rein on his, he declined to comment on it aloud. He did respond to Riley's apology, though. "Don't even worry about it. Time has been hard on us. The situation is resolved; I'm moving on. Thanks, though."

(ahem) But back to his initial thought, before getting mentally sidetracked, Ash knew that outside of Quarantine was supposed to be a thriving community. If what was best for his people was to be viewed as individuals that could become part of that community, then it was best to start now. Good leaders led by example. And in the event that they were not allowed to be a part of Camp Mexico Beach, then they had to prepare for that eventuality. Right now they were weak - partly malnourished, under-equipped, and suffering from fatigue based on constant movement and mild paranoia. They needed this time in Quarantine, if only for a period of rest before they were urged to move on. Yeah, the group was comparatively weak right then. They had seven days to get strong and figure out what their next move was afterward, if it came to that.

Not tonight. Ashton wanted to make sure that the Newnan survivors had a shot at being accepted, so after a quick "Excuse me," he stepped in the direction where most of what remained of the Eden Team was gathered. It actually took him a second or two to remember Beatrice's full name, being as it had been a long while since he had used it. As she looked like the lady who was making the decisions for the group, and the only one that spent time in Newnan, he made it a point to speak to her first. "Miss Decker? I wanted to say 'thank you'. What you and your team did gave me enough time to round up what survivors I could without being harassed and get them out. I am truly sorry for your losses, ma'am. If it's not too much trouble, could you please introduce me to the people in your group? Again, thank you." Hopefully, his attempt to be sociable might make an impression on the both the people in Quarantine and those watching them.

In a lowered voice, Ash followed up with a quick, "Damn fine hit, by the way. Impressive."

---

---

Thalia gave a quiet laugh to Alexander's declaration about her. It was polite, she wasn't scoffing at the man, but she did find his words a little humorous. "Ain't a thing, Mugs. I'll tell ya though, that's naht why La Familia called me Angel." It sounded a little strange, her sudden change from her native Boston accent to one that marked her from northern Mexico. She gave him a small smile and finished up her thought with the sentiment of, "Us cripples gotta stick together, right?" The woman didn't have anything more to say on the matter, content to keep her words few and direct. The main portion of her concentration was on the room around her, more specifically the people within it. It was a curse sometimes, her psychological prompting toward securing an area and mentally guarding herself against possible threats. It was only reinforced by her formal education and years spent with her father's people. Not to mention her time at her tio's company, or the amusement park full of wonders to which she had to grow accustomed after the world fell. It was down to the bone now.

As she noted the various actions of the new people (new to her, anyway), Thalia absently responded to Alexander. "Yeah, they can't all be winnahs, Mugsy. But as long as someone's drawing attention to themselves, it's not on us." Sometimes just remaining unnoticed was preferable. Especially when one was gathering information about the people around them. Or when one needed to process feelings, flashbacks, or a single moment to themselves but were stuck in a crowd. Wayne's rant might not have been very nice to most of them, but it was opportune. She almost blew it when Wayne, from his recently reacquired recliner, used the phrase "Twat-Rocket". She had to suppress a chuckle at that one, which otherwise might have thrown more attention her way than being a one-armed lady in a hotel robe, offering physical and emotional support to a mobility-compromised Vietnam vet. When that thought congealed, Thalia had to suppress another chuckle. She couldn't make up a metaphor that twisted if she had tried.

Yet more than their guards, and oddly more than everyone's new best friend Hunter, Thalia found her attention drifting to the group with that Army Captain in it. The Wayne guy was right, they were acting like a dysfunctional family. In this instance, she was focusing more on the family part than the dysfunctional part. They really were, complete with a borderline violent maternal figure using aggressive tactics to invoke what was probably a needed talk about feelings from an authority figure who was obviously uncomfortable actually talking about his feelings. Two others who were obviously close (and close cropped) that metronomed between fleeing one another's presence and retreating back to each other based on environmental cues, and an overprotective father getting defensive about his kid. Not that Thalia blamed the man in the least. That made as much or more sense than over half the crap she was seeing in this room. And he was a fellow Masshole. But the ballerina chick had a point. To the best of her knowledge, they had birthed and raised a baby out there, which was definitely no small feat, even with additional able bodied people around. Tatiana's response keyed her in to the fact that it was more impressive than that; the Russian mom had done so by herself, to start. As she mentioned earlier, that was some next level shit. Thalia wanted to speak more with Tatiana about her background and some about her dancing. Ulterior motive for wanting to learn ballet notwithstanding, she still wanted to learn it. Oh, what a mobile, gliding, hacking, stabbing, dark engine of destruction she would be once she grew fully accustomed to her alterations and upped her footwork game. Plus, hey - what little girl didn't want to grow up to be a ballerina? Graceful. Delicate. All she needed now was that My Little Pony tattoo and she was set to reclaim her childhood. Kinda.

Thalia's foray into imaginative thought was cut short by movement in Beatrice's direction. It was the Captain. Even this served to narrow her eyes and tense slightly. She had wanted to speak with the man. The guy had even said that they would talk later. And now here he was moving toward Bea. She didn't think that anything bad was about to happen, but as it came down to it the approach sharpened her attention anyway. She was aware that he and Bea knew each other, but a lot can happen in a year and she didn't know the guy well enough to fully trust him yet. Her friend was fully capable of handling herself, and she knew it. Thalia was merely acting out of loyalty and shared history. And a mutual love for "Dem Os", a factor that could not be brushed aside so easily.

---

---

From his post in the recliner, Hank crossed his hands behind his head. Hopefully the drama had gotten out of most everyone's system and they could move on to a more glorious use of their time which chiefly involved sitting and television. Great invention, television. It had more of a point than staring into a fire for hours on end, even if doing that generally also involved a healthy amount of people shutting the hell up. Hank could respect that. But TV? Even if it was just a gimmicky kids' show that featured a character that happened to have a name in common with one of his traveling companions, be it only a nickname that Hank made up for him, it was still the best damn thing on the screen that he'd seen in forever. He'd be picky later.

Going against his own hopes for a lack of conversation, Hank did act on a compulsion to answer Nigel when he asked the exasperated question of why he even tried. In this case, to be a peacemaker, Hank supposed from context. Barely turning his head in Nigel's direction but maintaining eye contact with the program on the screen, he shot him something that passed for an answer. "Well gee there, Sportacus, I'd have thought you might figure that little mystery out for yourself, buuuut, as you're talking about your existential crisis out loud, maybe I can put this to bed for ya. Mmmkay, ready? Here goes:" He cleared his throat noisily and took in a breath, then fired away. "nnnnYOU, sir, are still burdened by a nasty, nasty habit of having Good Intentions. Everybody say it with me -" Hank removed his hands from the back of his head and gestured like he was crudely conducting an invisible orchestra. He didn't care whether or not anyone actually joined in with his sarcasm, he just went for it, "- GOOD INTENTIONS. Road to Hell's paved with 'em there, Sportacus. Can't deny it. Buy hey, maybe it's not so bad! Shows that you're still clinging to the idea of accountability and keeping order in a world that's clearly lacking both. And gosh darn it Champ, while I agree with you in theory, we've got so many personalities that don't know each other in this room, the only thing that anyone's going to listen to with any reliability is the one authority from which all other authority is derived on a primal level," pause for effect, "...The Threat ...Of Force." Yeah, that did it. "Force to themselves or the application of it to someone else, and the desire to be on the winning side of that potential exchange. I don't hate to say it, so I'm going to: We're animals. Instinctive, meat-eating predators who crave structure and, if I may add, need to blow off some steam and aggression every now and again before something really bad happens."

"Don't you worry about it, Sportacus. You're a good guy, more or less. But you need to lighten up. Tell ya what, there, hows about you grab a seat and pick out the next video, huh? Gonna be a nice, long week in here, and if you lose your shit today I'd hate to see what happens five days from now. You and Apocalypse Barbie, both." Hank motioned to seats around the TV, "We're here. We made it. Drama's done for right now, let's make the most of the lull before someone else craps a whole, live kitten in front of everybody." Deep down, Hank was hoping that everyone else heard his little pep talk and maybe, just maybe took his advice. Or he just wanted relative quiet and some TV time. One never could tell with Hank.







Slowly, Hank turned to face his dear friend and fellow former nuthouse resident. "...wait a minute, Maldonado. Did you just Toy Story me? Really? ...Jackass..." The last word was intoned through whispering laughter as he nudged Wayne's arm.

---

---

---

---

---

Alexander continued his attempt at not acting up after Wayne's assesment of him, the attempt being somewhat success now that storm was blowing past and the rain letting up. No more screaming or shouting, no more loud-mouthed theatrics of a man clearly off his rockers, only a room filled with exhausted survivors and two guards. One of them clearly didn't think too highly of them, the other so too but a whole lot quieter. It was during Panama's harsh words that Alexander realized he had spilled on himself, making the old veteran attempt to clean it up with his sleeve. If not, perhaps he would have appeared as useless as Panama made him out to be. And he had promised Auntie not to make such a mess of himself.

But those words, that they must have had it easy? Sadly not the first time Alexander had been told that, yet it still hurt the old man, if not as harsly as before. When he and his kind came back from the war, what most people seemed to cling onto was what the soldiers had done over there. The shooting, killing, dying, endless manouvering in an infinite hellscape of green. Like those students who surrounded him at the library. Very few asked them how they felt. They must have thought that because they went over there at all, they got used to it. That it was easy. Far from it, and now those same words made the cycle whole again. But Alexander, forever the Grunt, gritted his teeth and swallowed the anger of a young man, doing his best to breath as Tatiana had instructed him to earlier.

Alexander didn't want to think about that anymore, and looking across the room at the other groups of people tending to their own. Ash with what he now thought of the 'original' group, the smaller one with the maniac, and Beatrice and Hunter now halting the hostilies for now. Did Alexander blame him for his outburst? He sure as day didn't like it, but who knew what he'd been through, so perhaps the old veteran could understand? Finally Alexander looked up at Manny as he came and sat down with them, giving his fellow Baby Boomer a half-forced, half-tired smile. "I'll be fine, don't you worry about me, Manny. I'm just glad to finally have a good place to sit, and this one sure beats the Chicago night-bus. Are you okay?" Alexander answered the old dentist-turned-medic, quickly turning the question back to Manny as he leaned back in his chair, trying to relax too.

"So we're talking more like Michael or Kushiel then? Either way, you're stuck being the regular one to me." Alexander said with less of a forced smile to his fellow cripple, chuckling quietly. "Damn right. I got your back." Old Mugsy responded briefly to her, sighing quietly again. She was right, they had to stick together in these troubling times. Safe from the Undead, but not safe from others, not yet. Alexander nodded to her assesment of Wayne and his outburst, glad that she brought some positive thoughts to his earlier fears. If Wayne made an ass out of himself, that meant Alexander could remain under the radar. He had been good at that back when you'd wish some great apocalypse swept away the crowded streets of Chicago. Well, he got better at it.

Alexander continued to calm himself down while seated, still shaking ever so slightly with his hands as he took a small sip of his coffee, taking another look at the room. That's when he noticed Ash talking with Beatrice, wondering what they were actually talking about. Alexander looked between Thalia and Manny, as if to ask if they knew. Out of badly mixed bag of people that were in the quarantine, the old veteran found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe Ash would understand him?

---

---

---

---

---

So that's what they were thinking back of them? After Wayne had been done with his character descriptions of the whole Greek cast, it was Panama's turn to cast his judgement upon them. Like a Roman Patrician of good family and stock viewing a gladiatorial game for what must have been the hundreth time, he had the guts to insinuate that they had had it easy before they got there. Nigel could only give Panama and Major a very brief look of annoyance, even something akin to spite at their words, but he remained silent. For now. At one hand this group had been protected by their walls and fared much better than Nigel "Hadrian" and his own people, so in his mind they had had it anything but "easy". Tall walls make soft men, and vice versa. Then again, was this how Nigel himself had thought when he was in their old settlement? Perhaps that was partly why Nigel "Hadrian" kept silent, even in annoyance. Partly he was getting tired of it all, and partly he was determined to prove them wrong.

Nigel "Hadrian" looked away from their two guards and over at Beatrice and Hunter, watching as the embodiment of Boudica let go of her prisoner and Hunter go get more coffee after his defeat. For now the confrontation looked as if it had cooled down enough for them to be left alone, which at the moment was good enough for Nigel. He was still uncertain of what to think of these people, and making friends and allies wasn't always easy in a world ruled by the sword. Nigel looked at Wayne as he repeated his own question, the reminder that they would be sharing rooms with for their stay in quarantine put back into his mind. On top of that list were the grumpy duo of old men and Hunter, but the others he didn't know what to think.

But his earlier thought of a force-ruled world was reintroduced to him with Hank's now famous sarcasm, and quite seriously on the condecending side of the spectrum. Nigel shot daggers at Hank with his eyes, turning his head from looking at him and over to Erica for support in his verbal flogging. At this point Nigel shouldn't be surprised at how Hank managed to find new ways of getting on his nerves, every time exploring new paths of a labyrinth of wits and jabber, this time finding the creativity to attempt bringing in more soldiers to the breached. Nigel switched looking at Hank with his now accustomed look of "I'm getting tired of your shit, Hank", and only listening to him while looking away. It was a miracle that he wasn't jabbing back at the Shovel Knight with his own tactics, or it was by sheer willpower and experience from his teaching years.

The worst part of it all? Hank was sounding a whole lot like Nigel himself when he met Robert. The good sameritan met by the ruthless Roman soldier, each on different paths on their way to survival. One with good intentions, the other with a good sword. What would Robert have done in this situation? In his situation. Then it was the point that Hank, once again to his great and utter surprise, wasn't completely wrong. The world outside those protective walls was indeed ruled by pure force. Rome was built upon the labours of soldiers, makers and experts of war. Still, pure force could only keep a empire together for so long without the power of words.

"Perhaps...perhaps." Nigel "Hadrian" answered Hank in short after a while of contenplative silence, before looking up at him again with a small smile on his face. "It's a nice change to hear you say something good about us for once." he added, shaking his head at the words he said, never having thought he'd utter them. Perhaps Hank too wasn't so bad? Some day Nigel might say something nice back. At least until he mentioned him by his 'favourite' name, that was. "I'll take you up on that offer, as long as I don't have to actually pay attention to...whatever that is." Nigel "Hadrian" said back to his offer, rising up from his seat and giving Erica quick look. "I'll be right back"

Nigel then made his way over to where the VHS tapes were stored, his eyes scanning far and wide at the wide variety of films at their disposal. He didn't have anything particular in mind that he wanted to watch, except action or horror. He was tired, and perhaps Hank was right in that he needed to lighten up. They had a long week in front of them, and so he looked for something light-hearted to watch, finally finding some good ones. Some 80's movies, John Hughes, MASH. In the end Nigel pulled out the one he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. Making his way back to his own group, he sat down beside Erica and took the time to read at the back of the VHS. "The Princess Bride. Now this brings back memories. Have you seen it?"

---

---

---

---

---

His eyes watched in curious fascination as the gates rolled closed, his mind was so pre-occupied and his body so out of practice, that when the jeep began to move, Victor started in his seat and grabbed the nearest solid surfaces his hands could grab. One of those things just happened to be Doc's raised arm, the one closest to Victor. Victor spluttered his words out as he quickly moved his hand to the roll bar, mimicking Doc's posture to keep the motion from being too much for him. "Pardonne-moi!" It had been a very long time since Victor had been in a moving vehicle and the motion made him feel a little queasy despite the slow speed that they were moving. It felt strange to feel warm skin again, like a distant memory from a life long since past. Too bad it wasn't with a beautiful woman, but looking at Doc again, at least it was with a beautiful man.

As they drove forward, Victor soon forgot about the embarrassment of feeling up a stranger and his abdominal discomfort when he began to notice how kept together everything looked inside the walls. It was nice not to feel like an old, used up tyre compared to the younger survivors he'd encountered in the After so far, well except for Ms. Sally. He really did miss that woman. He felt his eyes well a little as he watched everything going by, the sounds of the children laughing as they played ball just cemented his feelings. He missed so many people, so many places, so many things that he'd never see or experience again. He gave weak smiles and half waves to those they passed that greeted him and the men he traveled with but couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

As Atticus gave him the tour, he listened as best he could but knew that very little would be retained in this first recounting of locations and buildings. He appreciated the young priest, he seemed a very genuine and good sort but Victor had no doubt that the man could handle himself if the time should come. He wondered how long until this place too, would fall. He silently chastised himself as he thought it but there was still a part of him that screamed that he was right. As the jeep slowed, Victor watched the children pass by and looked to where Atticus pointed. Education centre, so they had more than a few children that was as uplifting as it was heartbreaking from Victor just then. He ran his fingers through his beard as the thoughts spun around his head, his fingers entwining amongst the rough, matted hairs. He winced and took in a sharp breath as he accidentally pulled a few hairs out when Atticus mentioned their hospital. That was a place Victor was uncertain if he wanted to set foot into.

When the vehicle stopped outside a hotel looking building, Victor stayed put as the two younger men spoke. He listened and wondered who the young boy was and what medicine that Michael was giving him before catching himself and scowling the thoughts away. He rubbed at his eyes with the cuffs of jacket, removing the remaining moisture from his face as best he could before deciding he wasn't going to win with this damn humidity and that any tears would look just like sweat if anyone looked closely enough. Save for the slight puffiness around his eyes. He doubted anyone would care enough either way, he wasn't sure why he was so worried. It was disconcerting.

When Atticus spoke again, this time to Victor, he gave a slight smile across one side of his face - it was as much as anyone could hope for at this stage from Victor - and he gave a firm nod of the head in recognition before stating a simple "Thank you." to the Preacher.

When Maddoc finally vacated the jeep, Victor took that as his cue to follow suit. Granted he did it at a much slower pace than the three other men had done, making sure to not lose his footing as he maneuvered himself out onto the ground. Once his feet were firmly planted on the concrete again, he turned and looked to Michael who was addressing him. Victor nodded along with the instructions, all of it seemed pretty simple and easy to follow - should be easy enough. He looked at the pen held in Doc's hand and smiled a little wider, thinking of his surname filled him with pride, happiness, comfort and sorrow in all equal measures. He reached upwards as his eyes rose, looking up to Michael, his fingers searching for glasses that were no longer present and he spoke in a soft, subdued tone. "Victor Bonheur." It was the first time in over 30 years that he had not given his title of Doctor alongside his name.

---

---

---

---

Scratching the back of her hand, Tatiana looked over towards Jack as he apologized. That one actually took her aback slightly. Hadn't seen that one coming. Though, right then she wasn't sure what to expect from her husband. Before Newnan fell, she was bubbly and bright and nearly carefree. Newnan had been a home for them but even before that they had found a home within each other. Everything was picture perfect fairy tale. They were the cute couple, that made some people sick to watch at times. They met, fell in love, got engaged, had a wedding that was perfect. Well nearly perfect, there had been a bit of drama. Though she missed a lot of that, her eyes had been focused on her husband and the little secret she was carrying at the time. The secret she gave him as a wedding present. It was all so perfect that night.

Then shit hit the fan. James killed Richard. James was kicked out. Newnan fell. Victor had found her, they got out, alone. Hit the road. It was a struggle but they made it until she gave birth. After he left for supplies, and didn't come back, she had to keep moving. She had still be recovering from delivery, it had only been days. Suddenly she was on the road, and not alone. With a baby tied to her chest in a makeshift sling from a bed sheet. Bubbly left. It was back to pure survival. Keeping a baby from screaming and drawing walkers. A refugee again. It was hard but she survived, with Jamie. Sure, eventually they all came back together but Tatiana still hadn't let her defenses back down. She wanted to but no. Not after what happened. Not again. In the immortal words of a Miss Bridgette Vinters, fuck that.

But, Jack was her husband. She nodded slightly to him. Timidly but she nodded. She knew he was trying. He always did. One of the things that made her fall in love with him. The effort he put into things. Everyone failed at something in life, but with Jack, even if he did fail, he kept trying. That was love. To her. Then he started speaking in Russian, her native tongue. It was just another example of how he tried, how he put in the effort. Learning her language so he could talk to her and make her feel safe. Leaning against him she slipped an arm around his lower back and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. Sighing softly she smiled slightly. "Da, I knov." Tilting her head back she gazed up to him and rested her hand against his chest. "I love you too, ve get through this. Ve alvays do." It was true, some how, they always made it through whatever came at them.

Others were talking and such. Tatiana glanced and nodded slightly but right then, she was more focused on what was going on with her husband and her son. There was a lot Jack didn't know, about what happened to her and she knew now wasn't the time to talk about it but maybe she would eventually. Though, in all honesty it was hard for her to open up about her past, even her recent past. It was hard to let people she didn't know in. Eventually she would open up but she knew how Jack was. He would blame himself for what she went through. Some parts she doubted she would ever tell him, it wasn't his fault and she didn't want that on his conscious. She would have killed to have one of those she used to talk to around. Like Miss Sally. She always knew what to say.

---

---

---

Wayne just smirked this shit eating grin towards his old buddy Hank. Bobbing his eyebrows a few times and giving him a wink. "Aww, that's the sweetest thing you've said to me in a fucking week. Must be my lucky day," he taunted. That was just how they were to each other. It was the closest thing that those two would probably ever come to when it came to that whole I love you shit. They were men, manly men, they just didn't have tights, even if they, well he did go around the forest looking for fights. God he could use a Mel Brooks Marathon right then. That fucker was funny. He wondered to a minute to himself, did they have a black sheriff here? Hey, it worked in Blazing Saddles right? Could work here. Granted he hadn't seen many people of color around, just that one woman so far on the helicopter and then hispanic man that had come in with their meal. Oh wait there was that Asian dude that came in with the buckets. Okay, they had some diversity. He wondered how much more there was.

Looking around the room, Wayne swatted in front of his face. Only once this time before it looked like he was choking something with his fist and slamming it under his rear. He chuckled. And farted. It was loud. Very loud. The damn recliner didn't help muffle the sound. Not one bit. The man might have had an iron stomach but apparently even his wasn't immune to gas. Though he wasn't embarrassed. He started laughing hard and he kept farting. His fart drumming with each laugh and it was only getting louder. He started cackling with laughter, snorting like a pig once or twice. Thankfully, whatever smell it had, it was caught in the cushions of the recliner. For now. Whether it stayed there or not was another story. And lord, it didn't stop until it sounded like an elephant being smothered to death by a pillow at the end. "Think I killed Dumbo," he laughed. The man looked way to proud of himself. Tension in the room be damned.


Temperature: 94F (34C)
Humidity: Fucking High (Around 98%) - Raining off and on all day
Wind Speed: 7 MPH (11 KPH)
Cloud Coverage: About 51% covered with thick dark clouds

---

The two guards kept watching the group. Things seemed to be calming down and Panama started to step back to his post. That was until he heard something. It sounded like a drain that was clogged and bubbling at first. His brow rose and his head turned slowly towards the sound of laughter, and farting, and farting laughter, and laughter farting? It was Wayne. And it kept going. He shot a look to Major who actually looked sort of impressed as her head titled to the side like a confused dog. Panama looked down at his watch and started timing the damn thing. It was a good thirty seconds from the time he started timing before Wayne was done. "Killed him?" Panama laughed. "God I hope he's dead after that," he added, still chuckling as he started to walk back over to Major, who was still looking rather impressed by that one.

"Cabbage." One word from Major but it was enough to invoke a memory. Panama laughed slightly, remembering some of the sounds that were coming out of people that night. Cook had made some cabbage dish for St. Patrick's Day a couple of years ago. It was good, very good. Dusty had gone back for seconds and then thirds. Then the gas started. He sounded like a diesel engine starting up.

Atticus pushed into the room. "Sorry," was the first word out of his mouth as he stopped and paused, looking around at everyone. He cast a sideways glance towards Major and Panama, they just shook their heads slightly. Panama still chuckling. Atticus looked at him oddly but kept moving. "We had another stray show up at the gate, they will be joining you shortly," he said as he walked over to where Tatiana and Jack where with their child. "Doc gave me this for Jamie," he said pulling out the bottle. Turning the cup over in his hand, he poured out to the five milliliter mark and then knelt down in front of the kid. "Doubt it's the best buddy but come on," he said but little Jamie didn't seem to care. His mother was making no indication that he shouldn't eat it and he was at the stage where he liked to put everything in his mouth. Preacher looked surprised but was glad the kid let him dump the stuff in his mouth slowly. Jamie made a face like he had just sucked on a lemon for the first time and Atticus nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, sorry about that," he said before writing down the time on the bottle like he was instructed.

Standing up he looked over at Jack and then Tati. "You guys are good, kids usually spit that shit out in my face," he said with a chuckle. Last kid that he had had to hold during a dose of medicine had vomited all over him. A bad of ick was the best he could hope for. "Let one of know if things get worse, Doc will be in from time to time to check on him," he added before walking back up to the front of the room and going to pour himself a cup of coffee only to find out it was empty. "Well shit," he said before putting the pot down and pouring some water instead. Taking a drink, he took care of his thirst and sat down, dropping the clip board down on the table in front of him.

"Alright, I got your room assignments. Gonna kind of be like prison for this,sorry about that, but this is the best system we've got when it comes to larger groups coming in," he started before he continued. Flipping the paper over and then back he looked over to them. "Okay, I'm sure once you heard room assignments you were hoping for picking and choosing or trying to stay together. What we want is you to be able to integrate into a larger group after this whole Quarantine is over. Can't get along with a dozen folk here you really don't stand a chance with nearly 300."

Shrugging he leaned back in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. "So this is pretty random. Sucks but hey, it's a bed right? We will be dividing you up into five rooms. Three for the guys and two for the girls. At bed time, you'll be taken to your room and well, fuck, locked in for the night. Like one of those bad overnights at church." He hated this part, people were usually never happy with their room assignments. "There is bathroom in each room, showers don't work in there, but the toilets and sinks do, so does the A.C. units, so yay!" He was half sounding optimistic, half sounding sarcastic.

"Ladies first." Leaning over the clipboard he started reading. "Room 1 - Tatiana, Riley, and Thalia," he read out. Glancing towards the group before continuing. "Room 2 - Erica, Beatrice, Amelia." That was the girls. "And now the men." Then he flipped the paper over and it was time for the men. "Room 3 - Wayne, Nigel, and Hank." Another glance before looking down again. "Room 4 - Hunter, Manny, and Ash." There was a stifled snicker coming from Panama at this point, Atticus looking at him oddly. Not knowing what was going on he continued. "And finally, Room 5 - Jack with your son Jamie, Alexander and," he stopped as he leaned back in his seat. "The new comer. Doc is taking him to the showers now."

There was a half a second pause and Atticus got this look on his face. He sniffed and wished he hadn't. "What the hell is that smell? Did something die?" he asked, looking around slightly disgusted and covering his mouth.

"Dumbo," Panama cackled as he leaned against the wall covering his mouth and nose. It was really starting to stink in there.

Outside, Michael nodded and wrote down Victors name on the bag. "Alright Victor, let's get you inside," he said before handing the bag over. Turning and walking into the building, Maddoc followed suit, waiting on Victor and taking up the rear. Inside it was an old check in room, nothing more but there was air conditioning. Turning he lead Victor into the men's shower rooms. The place was cleaned. Someone had been in since the first group came through. Taken the bags to laundry and gotten things straightened up. "Over there is soap and towels. Razors. Return the razor when your done. Hot water doesn't last forever but it's been a bit since the last group came through so you should be good." Michael was pointing around around the room before sitting down on a bench and setting his pack next to him.

"Just get all cleaned and put your stuff in that bag and then toss it over there," he said pointing to the wall. "Then grab a robe and some slippers. Supply will bring over some clothing for you in a bit. Once you're bathed, I'll do you check up and take you over to the conference room to meet the others and get some food," he said as he started pulling some things out of his pack so he could do Victor's check up real fast once he was bathed. Maddoc leaned against the wall and took a post by the door, he wasn't really worried about the man doing something and he knew Doc could handle himself. He looked slightly distracted even. "Hey you okay?" Michael asked Maddoc. He nodded and looked ahead.

*Remember to check your CS's before you post periodically to stay on track.