Emanuel "Manny" Newman
Location: Wewahitchka B4 -> C4
Skills: Perspective
Skills: Perspective
Their little outfit of a survivor family was sorting out their day pretty well. Manny still had his fears, but otherwise things were looking up. He thoughts it was cute, Beatrice's and Thalia's relationship whatever that ended up being. No matter what it was or wasn't he was happy for them. But before Manny could really get his mind around his thoughts for the day, Alexander started talking about a Huey? And all that came to Manny was "What the hell is a Huey? Is it what's making all that racket outside?" Was it some kind of Vehicle? Or was it a term for walkers that Manny hasn't heard of yet? He knew the people he was traveling with pretty well, but overall things still came up that confused him about his newest group. Lucky for Manny Thalia cleared it up with the term 'Helicopter', Manny knew that one. Now that he thought about it, Alexander did say something about a chopper. Thalia soon made her way outside with her pistol drawn. Manny moved to follow, but looking out the window breifly he noticed what everyone had been talking about. Outside, slowly getting closer to land, was a military helicopter. He hadn't seen one of those since... a long time.
Manny figured the best thing to do now would be to follow Thalia and be ready to help however he could. "Come on people, we're about to get some answers." Manny wanted to help, but he also realized he was the only person here without combat training of some kind making it so the others may be better options to help out if things went south. Grabbing his shotgun, and making sure both tubes were loaded, he followed the Thalia ready for action. Though Manny didn't move as tactically as Thalia did, he still tried to keep low and stay close to the buildings. Once he got closer to Thalia he did a partial crouch with the shotgun barrel pointed to the ground. "Do you know what the hell a Helicopter is doing out here? Didn't the military fall years ago? So what the hell is it doing here?!" It might have been something taken from a group of survivors, but how many pilots were left in the world? Probably less then doctors now that Manny thought about it.
Private Hunter James Monroe
Location: Wewahitchka Lower C8
Skills: Perception
Skills: Perception
The noise what getting louder now, looking around Hunter also noticed he was being surrounded. To the west he saw someone exiting the bank near him. Maybe there were was food in there? Izibell noticed them too. "Stay calm girl. They don't notice us yet." He was pretty sure he saw a firearm, but Hunter had his M4, and he was good with it, so he felt he could hold out in a bad situation. Then he saw the Helicopter. "well go ahead and fuck me in the ass..." He said as he started walking to it. There was no outrunning it, he had already been spotted. He couldn't run or hide from it, and his M4 couldn't really do much against military grade anything. Probably his biggest complain of the M4 rifle was its lacking of power behind each bullet. Once he was in ear shot he stood sideways with his rifle partially aimed but with the barrel pointed to the ground. If he was going to fight he was going to make himself a hard target ready to shoot back. But again, his rifle would do little to stop the chopper.
That's when the thing had properly landed. "no turning back now..." He got a little closer using his sideways strut, keeping his body narrow, and making his center mass his backpack. The man who approached him was old, very old. Before Hunter got a chance to make a comment or ask a question the man spoke, asking about Izibell. "Her Name's Izibell. My Name is Monroe. Can I help you? Are you lost? If so I don't know the area particularly well. I should also mention that I don't taste particularly well. Someone tried, decided to make the comment." That part wasn't true, but why not tell a little tale? "You got a name? Or is this a trap and you don't really care for my name? I can make either work but I want to be sure before choices get made." He kept eyeing the chopper. Seemed to have a full crew, though Hunter was mostly impressed with the fact that they had a pilot. Not many of those left in the world. "Nice piece of hardware, I imagine you have the means to keep it well tuned and armed. Otherwise you wouldn't waste it just looking around. You want to tell me what you're doing out here with enough fire power to level this little town?" He contemplated an escape plan. He figured he could get the old guy first, then if he was fast the pilot. Even if the windshield was ballistic glass the stuff had a shelf life and he figured the 5.56 NATO cartridge had a decent chance, but he wouldn't know for sure. If that worked out though then he would have to avoid the gunner. No way he could push his luck with a third target, but maybe he could get into a blind spot once the pilot was out.
But he wouldn't do this yet. Just having a backup plan in case these people seemed hostile was the important part. But what about the rest of the crew? If they got out could he take them? Not on his own no, but chances are there were corpses near by who would gladly provide a needed distraction. Then he considered Izibell. She would get into a panicked fit if they were in an enclosed building with a lot of corpses. There's no way she could make it through it. As if she could read his mind though, she gave him a look of pity from his left side. She smiled, but it was almost as if she had fear in her eyes, worried for her human. No, enclosed building wont do. If things go wrong, he'd find another option. "You seem military enough. Last I knew all federal military got stretched thin and wiped out. State forces collapsed soon afterwards once they realized they were on their own. So what does that make you?" He's not sure what he was expecting for an answer past 'Nobody'. He hated that answer, at least give a nic name or something.