Sigil

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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It was a steady series of nods which came from Ashton, as he heard and agreed with what Thana was saying. He had seen proceedings like this before. One might argue that it could be described as a "drumhead" trial, seeing as a guilty verdict was assured from the get-go. This was more about showing the community how things worked. The main difference between this and an actual drumhead, as the expression went, was that the sentence was not already decided. Nor was that sentence necessarily going to be capital, though apparently it was on the table. It was an odd feeling, being able to openly discuss the possibility of exile and/or execution, after the last year and a half of being on the road, fighting for survival, keeping his group together as best he could while conducting an epic quest for both Tatiana and Thana. He thought that such an ordeal might have changed him back into someone more prone to view each life he encountered as uncompromisingly valuable. It had not. Instead, now that he was back in civilization, it made him wish to maintain said civilization for the greater good of the most people possible while looking out for individual freedom within the ruleset of the governing body. In short, living away from society made him more protective of it. He was probably always going to be the officer he once was. Curse or blessing was yet to be decided. So, Thana's words made perfect sense to him. "Ten minutes," he mused. "Can't wait." A touch of sarcasm perhaps. Nevertheless, he had come this far and was genuinely curious as to how this would proceed.

Further conversation was waylaid by the distracting noise coming from behind them all. Thana's commentary was noted, also agreed with, and looked upon with some element of horror. "Yeah. I thought she was some kind of, ah... assassin type." Not to say Ash believed that she was a professional contract killer; more like an edgy, stealth using, melee enthusiast. At least one of those qualities was NOT on display that evening.

Instead of continuing to give attention to the one armed train wreck, Ash turned back and addressed the comment which Nigel had made just a moment before. "No execution is simple. Trust me there. Sets a precedent that's difficult to walk back from. Any death like that has to have practical and symbolic purpose." He was thinking back to how Leann McCormick ran things prior to her death. It wasn't how he ran things, but Ash had to admit that she had made a compelling point about it sometimes. Hunter, if his death were to occur at the hands of the Council, might require solid reasoning behind it. Or take place away from the knowledge of the rest of the community. So again, Ash's thoughts went toward the only question that made sense to him - was what was best for the individual also what was best for Camp Mexico Beach? To supplement, which was more important? Hopefully, they might find another path which fulfilled the needs of both without stressing their resources. Or toss aside all pretense and commit to Tatiana's course of action. It would wrap things up in a nice, tidy package, but at what cost to themselves? He had his own ideas. All they could do now was wait.

And as it turned out, they did not have to wait very long. A touch of surprise took Ash as he realized what was happening. The General was showing him mercy. More, Ash reasoned, than he might have personally shown in his position. Whether or not it was a mistake on the part of the General, the die had been cast. Presented with the option to stay in the settlement under observation and restriction or leave for parts unknown and distant, Hunter chose to stay. Ash did not personally object; this was the ruling of the governing body, ran by protocol of American military remnants, handed down by a man with decades more leadership experience than himself. Also, Thana's grandfather.

Despite not being total agreement with the decision, ego was not a factor. This was the call, and Ash would support it. Maybe things would work out for the best, and for all parties concerned. If not, summary judgement was still an option. He could respect the show of compassion to Hunter as it was a path he might have chosen only a couple of years earlier. Ash's personal philosophy may have changed due to circumstances. His sense of ethic had not, and it clearly pointed him to the command structure and measured decision thereof.

Ash leaned closer to Thana, quietly speaking to her, "This chapter's done. Let's get back to putting our lives together. What do you say?" He was wearing an expression that, while slight, might have been considered disarming.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Mess Hall Skills: Stealth

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That was embarrassing. More than embarrassing, that was an utter and public reversal of Thalia's best asset, aside from a sense of moral flexibility that had served her well over the past few years. A very open demonstration of how far she had fallen since losing her arm. It angered Thalia. More than angered, it brought a plethora of emotions bubbling just underneath the surface of her skin. There was only one thing which might offset this piece of self-deprecating torture. Well, two. Okay, three, but as she didn't know anybody well enough to know if she could pursue quick-and-dirty physical intimacy with them, that was out. The application of violence somehow wasn't appropriate, given the trial and the lack of people that probably deserved a decent asskicking. That she was personally aware of, anyway. This left option C.

Option C was food. And why not? Thalia was a fan, be it a squirrel stabbed with a pointed stick and seared with a scavenged blowtorch or delicate cuts of sushi grade ocean fish (the memory of which was genuinely invoking something primal, even animalistic within her). So when she graced the Mess Hall with her presence, it was done so with certain predatory instincts. It was like a switch clicked on in the more feral recesses of her psyche, and certain survival traits asserted themselves. Her eyes darted this way and that, perceiving as much of her environment as possible. She took in a deep breath, mentally separating the aromas of the food distribution site so as to determine what might be on the menu. It seemed muted this evening. Like fire was not utilized in the production of the meal to come.

Carefully, Thalia wove her way about the room, ever nearing the food line. She did not take a straight path, instead keeping her profile low and almost mingling with small groups of people, the intent being to remain out of the line of sight of the majority of people in the room at any given time. For every failure, both minor and massive, that Thalia had undergone in the application of her stealth, the cobwebs seemed to have been cleared away and she practically glided from one knot of people to another, keeping her head down and senses open. Her footfalls matched those of the people immediately around her, giving camouflage to even the slight sound of her clothes rustling or shoes touching the floor. In short, Thalia was a figurative shadow, contributing little that drew the eye and even less that might pick her out from a crowd.

Thalia acquired a collection of things which she might wish to consume; sliced vegetables, fruit, and a sandwich of indeterminate ingredients. She gathered them for herself and used similar sneaky maneuvering to weave her way to an open seat at a table. Naturally, she wasted no time in shoving half of her sandwich into her face along the way. A final target was in mind (though truly not for anything nefarious, it was a "just because" scenario), so long as her luck was holding out. And indeed it did. Unobserved by the population of the Mess Hall at CMB in any substantial way, Thalia slid into position directly next to Lisa. The last thing she heard before virtually materializing in the chair next to her was the declaration that "those two are adorable". While the chuckle following the statement subsided, Thalia announced her presence, finally, by speaking smoothly into her ear, "What'd I miss, townie?" The sound of a carrot meeting its demise between her molars cracked in sharp contrast.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Ash recognized that Thana held the ethical high ground on this issue. Many of the others had spoken from points of hypothetical situations with varying, if questionably probable, outcomes, mostly drawing from personal experience. As for himself, Ashton had attempted objectivity with the focus being on what he felt would be best for the most people. A little cold perhaps, but as it stood as counterpoint to everyone else's stance, as everyone had uttered an argument to the contrary. Not just that; every argument up to that point had been structured in much the same way. However, the cold logical point Thana made was not only a different approach, but difficult to counter. And Ash agreed with it. Everyone signed on. Everyone agreed. Everyone had the opportunity to leave on more than one occasion if they didn't want to be a part of the community. When she was through speaking and came to sit next to him, Ash read the room (so to speak) and gave her a simple look of admiration and, like her, remained seated with his attention on the stage and those who were upon it.

Following this, subsequent speakers came and went. Nikki's testimony was predictable, and like others was colored by sentiment. Though she did provide an interesting alternative: probation with immediate expulsion upon violation. Perhaps there was some merit. Perhaps not, it was not Ash's place to say. Freedman was up next. His viewpoint (as Ash understood it) might have been the moral side of the ethical coin from which Thana had just spoken earlier. The problem was that they didn't agree with one another. Ash gave consideration to the concept that morality and ethic weren't quite the same thing despite some overlap. Both views held merit and he honestly could not refute either. Still, his own stance on the issue was voiced. If fell closer to Thana's than to Freedman's.

Shakespeare gave his own answer which, while far more histrionic than he preferred, was also rather predictable. The term vanquishment was interesting, translatable from English to English by means of context. Thankfully, his part was short. Experience and the voiced opinions of others told Ash that, literally given a stage upon which to speak, this might have turned into a full, iambic pentameter sonnet.

The big moment came from Tatiana. Not quite a surprise, from his point of view. He knew of the changes which had come over the woman. The more surprising part of this was that she actually voiced her more cutthroat nature in front of others. Moreover, Ash had a few of his own feelings in agreement with Tati. The thought of Richard did come up, though he decided as he spoke that it might muddy the waters by demonstrating specific, subjective motivation. And he did worry that showing this side of herself all at once might also target her by those who sought to assess risks. Her passing words to Ash were noted. When their eyes met, he gave her a mild, barely perceptible nod of comprehension. Ash understood what she was getting at. Richard was a threat, left to his own devices, and he became akin to an infection within their community. The biggest difference from Hunter here was that Richard attempted subtlety when he could. He tried to pretend to fit in, all the while working to his own devices at the expense of others.

CMB had their own way of handling things. If Ash felt that it should be handled differently, it was a matter of working through the system to effect change, barring a sudden change in circumstances or an emergency. He was about to see just how they were going to handle it.

Ash looked to Thana, following the announcement of deliberations. He did not want to downplay what had happened. Simultaneously, he did not wish to address it directly, either. He blew out a breath and shook his head slightly. "Woah," he whispered. Continuing, Ash nodded to the stage, quietly inquiring, "How long do you think they'll be?" It was an important decision to make, but with clear cut parameters. He could see it going either way. If it would be a while, Ash wouldn't mind a temporary change of location. That aside, sticking with Thana was priority. If she was staying put, so was he.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: Stealth

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Thalia debated holding up a hand for Tatiana to high-five on her way back to her seat, preferably with an utterance of "Damn, girl!" Two things prevented this. The first was better judgement. The second was that the slightly out-of-the-way seat Thalia selected for herself wasn't between the stage and ballerina mom's spot. Mostly that first one, though. Nevertheless, the thought did cross her mind.

Her brother's words were also present in Thalia's thoughts. Less pressing, certainly. This time around, she got the odd impression that between the two of them, they both had a finite amount of words they could share. Maybe that was why she had longish bouts of quiet - Joaquin had already used up everything from their word pool and she didn't have a good selection left. Or perhaps it was the other way around and because of her spartan use of verbiage, Joaquin was forced to compensate by burning through the syllables before the pool could refresh. A mental shrug later, and Thalia found herself giving less of a shit about it in the face of more important observations.

Observation Number One: They were adjourning for a little bit. Observation Number Two: A man's life, quite possibly, was at stake here. And finally, Observation Number Three: The Mess Hall was probably serving supper at that time.

Conclusions drawn from this, thanks to her earlier profession as a Security Specialist - This might be a deliberation that would take some time, owing to the serious nature of the outcome. So there was probably more than enough time to scoot down and grab a sandwich or something and get back. To say that she could eat right then was like saying that the sky was blue or water was wet. Of course she could eat. And she was going to.

Thalia figured that discretion was the better part of valor here, and settled on making a nice, quiet exit from the room, disturbing absolutely nothing and no one in the process. This was the plan, anyway. Reality decided to take a Super Soaker full of kerosene to her and ask her to hold an ignited road flare for a minute or two. What started out as her deftly rising from her seat turned into an interesting vision, mimicking the very best outtakes of "Epileptics On Ice" as her sleeve got tangled around the arm of the chair. Not expecting this, Thalia shifted her weight to prevent a tragic fall, rapidly bending at the waist even as she spun around. Balance being an important thing, she wound up accidentally tapping her favorite head on the seat back, not really doing much in the way of damage except for smacking her as yet unhealed facial laceration. Giving a quick yelp of surprise and alarm, sounding very much like "...gahfuckshit!" she slapped her flesh hand to the side of her face, not knowing how bad the bleeding was about to get. It wasn't actually all that bad, but it took her mind away from the internal pressure that had been building up in her abdomen. Between that and the bowed position she found herself in due to a severe lack of luck, a vicious, goose-barking sound erupted from the back of her borrowed pants, finding just the right pitch and direction to catch the room's acoustics in such a way as to amplify the sound of her gaseous expulsion many times over. It echoed. Angrily.

The decision was made, and quite reflexively, to rise and turn, just to see if anyone noticed. Call it denial. When it was evident that there was no escaping this brand of fresh hell, Thalia simply gave up. "Ah right, then!" she called, "I'm just gonna ...sneak outtah heah... and get me a sandwich. Yah heard me. Sneak." She began walking toward the exit. "Heah I go." It was quite possible that she couldn't actually get embarrassed, but she could be relatively pissed off at failing something so basic when, not too amazingly long ago, it was something she had mastered.

"¡La madre que te parió!" she growled, putting the door between herself and everyone else.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Latin. Of course it was Latin. Ash was brought up with English, obviously, be it originally flavored with an Appalachian dialect. He spoke fluent military jargon, befitting a career as an officer in the United States Army, and thanks to his original foreign language training and time spent in América del Sur, he was passable with Spanish. There was even a little Russian in there thanks to Tatiana. But Latin? Nary a peep. Mild similarities to Spanish, but not enough to get more than the broadest of concepts. That was to say, not even a glimmer of recognition in this instance. Still, Ash looked to Nigel, gave a quiet nod, and refocused his attention on the proceedings.

When the call to speak was given to those assembled, Ash surprised himself by standing. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, putting himself in line to ascend the stage. As he moved forward, Ash caught movement from above in his peripheral vision. Thana was moving to join the line, it seemed. So was Tatiana. Manny, Alexander, others. Curiosity concerning the points they might make danced in his thoughts. He put it aside curtly. Ash would hear their thoughts voiced soon enough. His own words were a jumbled mess which he had to sort out.

The truth of the matter was that he already had something of a speech in mind, if and when he would be called up to share his thoughts. The most recent exchange served to waylay this, however, and Ash found himself unsure how he was going to respond, merely feeling an urgency to stand upon the stage again and be heard. Though his conscious mind did not know exactly what he was going to say, Ash could feel something solidify within him. The man he used to be asserted itself with prominence, like a personal tool suddenly becoming necessary. Stoicism, bred into him through generations of hillfolk custom and nurtured by military pragmatism, suppressed any emotion he might have been feeling, allowing his mind to crystalize around pure logic and lessons birthed of relevant experience. Any personal feelings were devoid of merit, and he spoke as a man of relative objectivity.

"Look at the facts of this case in the cold light of day. Mr. Monroe is a disruption. There is no dispute here. The evidence clearly backs this. The question now stands, is he a threat? Assess this, and take the next logical steps forward. Is this uncertainty about one person worth the time and resources required in terms of food, medical care, and providing special security? Does showing compassion to an individual at the expense of the community demonstrate strength or weakness? I have made my mistakes to this end and learned from them, after paying a hard price for those mistakes." Two incidents in particular stood out in Ash's mind. He felt like sharing neither just then. Experience was a cruel yet effective teacher sometimes.

"Were someone else in this room to take Mr. Monroe's place as defendant, I might be able to speak from a point of familiarity." Ash looked around the room once again, his eyes meeting several people that he knew, and had for a long time. "I could tell you of Tatiana's fierce loyalty and love. Or of Miss Ridgeway's work ethic. Amelia's commitment. I could talk about Jack's unwavering sense of responsibility. I might point to any and all of these things to explain that they were just having a bad time of things. Stress, changes, PTSD. I might request counseling for them, with full belief that they just need to work some things out." Ash's eyes looked weary for a moment with his next words, "Even Dr. Bonheur. I considered him a close friend. I trusted him. I could, with full confidence, say that Victor was a good man who lost his way, and if he were in that seat, I could advocate for him with conviction."

Ash continued, giving a mote of apology for his speech, which was less succinct as he had planned. "Thank you for bearing with me. This is the crossroads of my point," Ash continued, his features smoothing over like carved marble, "Regardless of noble intentions, or compassion, this is a simple question of potential risk. I cannot advocate for Mr. Monroe because I do not know him. None of us do. I have been acquainted with him for the week of Quarantine. Past that, for half a day of a single work assignment. The rest of the time he was in holding." It was the last piece of questioning, and the rant following which ultimately flipped Ash's decision away from a more positive advocation. "Mr. Monroe spent the time set aside to speak on his own defense to instead refer to this place as a prison. Then detailed very specific actions against the community that he would not do. Following that, he criticized policy and made an excuse for being late as an attachment. There was more. We all heard it. What I did not hear in that closing argument was ownership of the charges or apology. He had a week to prepare something. Anything. His final defense was spent saying what he felt was wrong with this place, the people in it, and events of his life prior to now. Nothing to actually defend himself and nothing to take responsibility. I might have personally accepted a simple, 'Yes, I messed up. I do not deny the charges. I apologize and want to fix it,' as a final statement, if it was genuine." Ash shook his head, "But this is not my call to make."

His conclusion was a terse summary of his broader phrasing and concerns. It was also delivered with unwavering purpose. "In the face of potential threat - Does one show compassion to the individual, or to the community? Blind compassion is weakness. Tempered by responsibility, it is strength. Compassion in this instance is served best by showing it to as many people as possible. Considering that, I would choose community. And my question: How decisive does one make it?" The last sentence was delivered with the icy detachment of a man accustomed to asking and answering questions that had a cost in human life. "I thank the Court for its time."

Following his statement, Ash stepped down. His piece was said. It was neither hopeful nor heartwarming. It was an objective series of observations based on the reality of their situation and his experience with similar dilemmas, geared toward the long term survival of as many people as possible. It was an iron statement, cold and barely flexible. Ash was perfectly willing to retake his seat and let the chips fall where they may following this. He did not expect friendly support. Moreover, he did not require it.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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There was no way in hell Thalia was getting up on that stage now. The call for opinions to be expressed washed over her like a spring breeze carrying a touch of something from a wastewater treatment plant; harmless but ultimately unappealing in the short term. She had no opinion of note about what was going on. Anything she had to say would be pointless, or moot, or unsupported opinion with zero bearing on the application of justice. So, hard pass on going up there and drawing more attention to herself. She was more or less satisfied right where she was.

Again, this was about the learning experience. She was picking up a lot of interesting tidbits of information about the people already living in Camp Mexico Beach prior to her arrival. More than that, a lot of things about the ones who arrived the same day as herself. Even a thing or two about her own traveling companions. Thalia supposed that it was human nature to speak in the defense of a fellow human being, when the result of a guilty verdict might mean banishment. Or worse. It was one of the reasons that she refrained from adding any additional dialogue. Thalia preferred to work as directly as possible with questions involving possible mortality. And she was not the public speaking type anymore. And truthfully, she had nothing worthwhile to say. But listen? That was something she could do quite well.

Team Eden got the first two options to represent the overall feel of the crowd, so to speak. Alexander and Manny comported themselves openly and, as best she could tell, honestly. Overall she was a little nervous for Alexander. He seemed to be having a little problem. It looked like he had been having this same problem more often lately. But he pulled it out at the end, and Thalia noted with a touch of respect that he had the strength of character to address Hunter directly when he was done. That couldn't have been protocol. He did it anyway. "Good on yah," she thought to herself. Mugsy was demonstrating class. Maye one day, she'd pick up some for herself.

As for Manny, he went so far as to suggest a course of action, simple though it was, with hope of future improvement. It was optimistic. Thalia missed being optimistic. It had been quite a while since she had partaken of that particular mindset. But for every optimist and every person who hoped, within that community there would always be the need for someone like her. Maybe two or three. It was a concession to her thoughts after reminding herself that she already had a brother here who probably fit that description.

Wonder over what the others, Ballerina chick, Nikki, and Navy, might say when their turns came around, came up briefly but was stamped back down when Navy's boyfriend was next to speak. She could almost see the idealistic, rousing speech coming off of the guy before he even said a word, which is why what he actually said surprised the hell out of her. Putting on her best "what the hell just happened" face, Thalia sat up a little straighter in her chair, not wanting to miss out on this one. His last few words struck a chord with her. An realization dawned on her, reflecting in one internally voiced thought: "Holy shit, Captain America is savage." The part questioning how decisive their compassion should be? This sounded very much like a low-key inquiry whether exile or putting a bullet to the back of his head (for the good of the community) was in question. Maybe she was wrong. Thalia did have a tendency to color situations with her own brand of cliched edginess. She kind of hoped she was wrong. At the same time, Thalia was beginning to see why her cousin Alicia liked this guy. And maybe a little more why Thana liked him, too. And she was a little more glad that she chose not to contribute, staying in her seat, with relative, situational anonymity.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash & Thalia Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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While Ash was no scholar of the human mind, he did have to pass certain core classes back in his Academy days which included both basic psychology and philosophy. To begin with, he had no idea why he would need this knowledge; Ashton was going to be a Sapper officer, and that was that. The more he performed his duties, the more these studies demonstrated their ongoing relevance. In this particular case, he gave note to the method utilized by the Professor which greatly resembled a modified Socratic Method, turned to specific purpose. Not that she called for him to defend a philosophical standpoint by intentionally arguing the counterpoint and requiring explanation, but a series of pointed questions, rallied against his earlier statements made in hopes of cementing her narrative, established in part by eyewitness testimony. In short, she looked to be setting conversational traps which Hunter could overcome readily by keeping his responses consistent. Maintaining his own narrative which did not contradict previous testimony might have sufficed. Or not reacting emotionally. There were some stumbles on Hunter's part; nothing irredeemable. At first.

His response to the last question asked of him did not seem to help matters any. It was an obvious goad. This didn't look like it was about getting a straight answer. That ship had sailed. This appeared more like a test of character. Maybe there was remorse present, or regret, or simple confusion about things and a voiced desire to do better and learn the customs of the community. But Ash didn't really hear any of this. As Hunter gave the last piece of his testimony, Ash's visage remained as stone. The only thing which served to reveal his mindset was a slipped utterance, audible possibly to Nigel, who was sitting right next to him: "Aw, shit... just clam up, kid." He almost felt like facepalming. This was damaging. If he were part of the Council, it might have influenced his opinion in a less favorable direction. Unless other factors were at play which Ash could not personally detect, this had to have been detrimental to his case.

Applying a wholly different mindset to this last line of questioning, Thalia looked on to the testimony with a surprised and curiously entertained expression on her face. She did not comment aloud, nor so much as clear her throat in concern of distracting, however minute a possibility it might be, what was going on in front of her. This was, lacking a better term, surreal. If she had to nail down a favorite part, it would rest somewhere around all of the things that Hunter didn't plan on doing if he was exiled. Nope, he certainly would not (specifically) shoot at the wall, hurl explosives over it, and in no uncertain terms would he lead a horde of Zeds back to bebother their last mortal days. In the moment that followed this detailed descriptor of things that he would not do, Thalia looked closely, half-imagining that Hunter might give an exaggerated showing of a wink whilst nodding knowingly.

Thalia was intrigued at what might happen next, and so quietly slid down in her seat to get more comfortable. She leaned her head to one side and rested her chin on a closed fist, and gave the stage her rapt, near full attention. Surreal.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash & Thalia Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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The situation, to Ash's perception, shifted dramatically. Pretense seemed to have been dropped, at least partially. There was little else which could be done to make this easier on Hunter, nor did it look like they were attempting to. Coddling was not permissible during a military trial. Or this, which was similar to a traditional Court Martial, by the standards of what used to be the Army of the United States, but was off in the details. Nevertheless, the trial represented one of the last vestiges of civil justice left to humanity at large. Perhaps even more impartial to the system they had established in Newnan. The flexibility and efficiency that it lacked comparative to his own call for a simple vote (or right of passing summary arbitration) was superseded by the overtly transparent nature of an open tribunal in the spirit of a Court Martial. This assumed the majority of parties making the decision were indeed impartial. This also assumed that all parties agreed to serve under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, a thing under previous circumstances was reserved only for soldiers. Perhaps that it what intrigued Ash about this trial. The idea that everyone within the walls were treated as military personnel. That might work well for someone like him, who had chosen the lifestyle. But what about others? It gave Ash pause for thought.

Thalia was mostly just mildly entertained at this point. She was always a person who was direct to a fault, declining to share information rather than make up convoluted deceptions or backtrack in a conversation. So when she witnessed what she interpreted to be exactly that - backtracking and covering - she internally called bullshit. Maybe it was a transition between telling them what Hunter thought they wanted to hear into something more like the truth; she couldn't say. Thalia just wasn't buying it. In her mind, the guy was being dishonest to someone, even if it was just himself. More than that, it looked like Profesora Coño was actively trying to put him on the defensive. Trying to bring out an emotional response? That would certainly be tricky. And more often used in jury trials because people were silly and led by their feelings. All in all, this just got a little more interesting, and Thalia was curious to see what developed.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash & Thalia Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Ash looked to Nigel, sitting beside him, to gauge his reaction to what was going on. He didn't want to make an overt move to crane about and try to read other people and draw attention to himself. Quite frankly, what he was hearing from the witness stand didn't seem like the kind of thing that was conducive to a continued presence in the community. Ash had hope that Hunter might turn himself around a little, just enough to realize that this was his best hope for survival and that maybe, just maybe, the presence of others might give him purpose greater than himself. It wasn't too unlike what he felt about the military, once upon a time. But Ash had to respect the fact that his experience in uniform was probably very different from Hunter's. That, and absolutely no one had a good time of it following the Outbreak. Most people were damaged in some way, everyone had their own versions of PTSD. It was unavoidable. But some were more damaged than others. Some were damaged to the point of being a threat to those around them. Doc Froggy came to mind. Ash hoped that this was not the case with Hunter.

Far from having such altruistic journeys of thought, Thalia looked upon the the exchange with vague amusement. Her mind started to do what it usually did in instances where the conflict was a possibility - she plotted potential actions from active parties and thought to countermeasures. It took her a second or two to realize that the hint of a smile was forming on her face and she felt her muscles tensing in anticipation of a fight or flight response. Or was it a subconscious play at a preemptive strike? That would be foolish from this distance. Plus, she no longer had a sidearm. In any case, realistically speaking, there wasn't anything to do. There were armed guards present to handle any trouble. And so far, no direct violence was threatened, just a word and confrontational sounding attitude. Thalia's expectations were still colored by the world outside of the walls and she knew it. Another way that she and the defendant were alike, Thalia noted. Regardless of how this turned out, it was a huge cautionary tale. Her lesson learned? Train to get back to her best, remain loyal to her friends, and (most importantly to begin with) stay under radar. If the time came to demonstrate the sliver of darkness that partly identified her bloodline, make sure it was for the benefit of those backing her. And naturally, enjoy the show. There was much to learn here.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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It had been some time since Ash had given thought to Beatrice and Froggy. It was strange, seeing as he and Victor had been a trusted adviser for some time. There was a sort of kindness about the man that Ash remembered fondly. He barely remembered a time when he so much as raised his voice. But then seeing him again in Quarantine revealed a changed man. Ash was unsure as to why he did not give more of a fuss when Froggy was removed from CMB and sent out on his merry way. Or, maybe not quite "merry", persay. He looked like a shell of the man he was before, more animal than not, unpredictable and dangerous. He hoped it would be a temporary thing, a rough patch smoothed over by the passage of the week behind walls and regular meals with people he once considered friends and family. But apparently he was too far gone. It was a shame and a pity.

Beatrice, on the other hand, he did not have such a close relationship with. It was interesting for him to note that, out of everyone who knew her who made it down to CMB, the only ones who appeared to note her departure were those in the Eden group. Some people weren't built for society. Others voluntarily removed themselves from it, by choice or by reckless action. Ash supposed this very philosophy was why he was thinking of Victor and Beatrice. Both left because of choices they made, though one was a little more voluntary than the other. It seemed much like Hunter, in this regard. The thought persisted that he might yet be a productive member of a community, were it not for certain choices made in the heat of stresses imagines from past experiences, without giving this place a chance yet.

Then, the continuing testimony caught up Ash's attention, full and rapt. He was not witness to a lot of what went on. To his eyes, the sins committed could be explained away by various means; new position, sudden shock of being in a place where the Dead were not potentially lurking in every doorway and abandoned automobile, and mostly the suppression of instincts thereof. These additional pieces of information were not the best for his case. And the video. Especially the video. He would have liked the opportunity to see the entire, uncut video, to fast forward through or to reference earlier bits at his leisure, rather than just look at the highlights reel. But admittedly, there wasn't a lot that one could do from a jail cell to make up for ...the things he did in the jail cell. It didn't look good to Ash. Somewhere deep down, and probably because of his own lapse into darkness, he hoped there was chance that the kid might be able to say, or not say, that which was needed to allow this community to help him. Everyone needed people now. It was just how things went. Without people, left to his own devices out in the world with this paranoid and aggressive mindset, he would die. Period. Exile might as well be a death sentence.

But the question Ash was sure these people were thinking (as he was thinking it, too): Was there a risk to the community if he stayed? They all knew what would happen if the answer was yes. Ash kept his thoughts to himself, sitting in his chair. Though now that Hunter himself was give the option of testifying, things got a lot more interesting. And urgent. This might save or damn him. Was his speech or his silence a batter strategy? More than that, did he even want to stay? Had anyone asked him? It looked like someone was about to.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Most of the testimony seemed predictable, from Thalia's point of view. Like she had seen all of this before, repeated ad infinitum, both before and after the uprising of dead people. But that was the funny thing about points of view: They tended to change with the onslaught of life experience, and the past five years had given everyone (who was still alive) more life experience than they really wanted. So when Gunny's testimony got to the portion where Hunter reacted to having his dog removed from his care, Thalia's more recent life experience colored the statement accordingly.

Petty. Breaking people. Abuse them as they wished. Sick. Thalia took the testimony in, her head pointed squarely at the man speaking. Her eyes slowly moved to view Hunter, looking for any kind of reaction or confirmation. Thalia had seen people like the ones Hunter was describing, with traits which he attributed to the authority in CMB. She had sunk a knife into several of them, swung a short machete into others, and shot so very many more. Thana was present and could vouch for many of the horrors that Thalia had witnessed - the blood, the viscera, rooms specially set aside for the mutilation of human bodies. Torture rooms. Zeds hung from the ceiling in a macabre mockery of tapestries, moaning and snarling at the living below. Thalia saw he cages where prisoners were kept, too. But more than this, the one thing that stuck out in her mind was a bucket. It was chock full of gouged out eyeballs, some with the optic nerve trailing along behind, all sloshing about in some dank and fetid fluid. Thalia took the opportunity to punt it as hard as she could to provide a gruesome distraction before filling the air in front of her with 9mm rounds traveling at high velocity.

Maybe Manny could better educate them in the ways of a petty, abusive, sick collective of sub-humans who treated people as they wanted. That's where they found him. Eden. Hunter's reactions might have been more in place there, were he to have ever been a guest of theirs. Of course, that kind of reaction might have gotten him flayed, or his nonvital organs peeled out of his body, or his manhood split and quartered back like a hot dog stuck in a microwave for far too long. His screams would have been legendary. Maybe his dog would have been forcibly fed to him. Maybe they would keep the dog alive for a long as possible as the process went on. At least then, a piece of it would be with him for as long as they allowed him to draw breath. Yes, Hunter in Eden. That might have been a sight. Instead, he had the opportunity to speak ill of his hosts while given regular meals and his canine well treated, albeit not in his presence for some of that time.

So Thalia looked to Hunter surreptitiously, not tipping her hand that she was sizing the guy up yet again. She was still not a huge fan of organized civilization, nor the rules which imposed on her freedom to do certain things just because she might feel the need to do them. She might wish to leave the place, climb a tree, or sink a float hook into water to catch something for supper. She may want to feel the wind on her face from someplace high, smell pine sap close up and personal, perhaps. Keep her weapons on her at all times, certainly, and train whenever she felt like it. While these things were inconvenient to her, things like regular meals were certainly not. By the time the recording of him in his jail cell came about, Thalia was only looking at it to catch the highlights. She had seen and heard enough. Her opinion meant nothing in this instance anyway, and she was not testifying at this time. There were too many similarities between herself and Hunter; glaring ones at that. The one thing that made them very different were the choices made. Thalia knew that she was damaged and probably always would be. It was no reason to fall to pieces. Deep down, she hoped Hunter would turn a corner here, that maybe all he needed was time. But in the end, whatever decision the community came to, it wasn't going to affect her in the least.

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Hank Wright Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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While the phrase, "This is better than pay-per-view," might have been uttered by Hank from time to time since their inclusion in the Camp Mexico Beach community, he truly meant it this time. Hank didn't give a more or less decent rat's hindparts about reality TV back in the day, preferring a good WWII documentary or anything Western, but damn if this wasn't some good, old-fashioned, family style entertainment. Not the parts where things were mentioned in monotone voices and points got repetitive, but the shiny, new bombshells that were dropped every so often really gave Hanktholomew Patrick Wright a deep down sense of unfolding drama, and right in front of him, too. Every so often, he would give Wayne a quick nudge and point out little nuances coming from people on the stage, defendant, council, or witnesses, as they spoke or reacted to the speech of others. It felt good to flex his intuitive nature again, and in a capacity that was not life and death.

But it was when the video played that he leaned forward in his seat and clapped once, giving a quick exclamation that he cut off out of a sense of propriety, "Hey! - <coughcoughcough> ...um, sorry." It was pretty obvious that he got a little excited by the novelty of video evidence and not exactly the content therein, seeing as it had scarcely begun. Hank would have to apologize, or at least something like it, later on. When he found out to whom it should go, of course. But the real moment of suspense came when he waited to see what Hunter's answer was going to be when called upon for his own defense, or keeping quiet and letting them pass judgement. If he was in the kid's shoes right then, Hank would probably have opted to remain silent, but this? This might wind up being both edifying and diverting, both. He just wished he had some popcorn. Or a beer. Some Chex Mix might do in a pinch, but not the kind with those dark brown, dehydrated pumpernickel bits (or whatever the hell they were) in it. The good stuff. Ah, but it was as much a pipe dream as any other. So he settled back and let the trial continue without further distraction on his part. When he saw the actual content of the video, he only had one thought on it, which he voiced significantly quieter than his first outburst. "Oh, shit..." It seemed to fit the situation well enough.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Ashton looked up from his seat to view Nigel retaking his seat next to him. He gave the man an accommodating expression and returned to his time-honored habit of staring mostly straight ahead, blankly waiting for the trial to continue with the one exception of turning back around to see if he could meet Thana's gaze for a moment. He was not an overly garrulous man, and this wait was nothing compared to sitting motionless in a transport plane, crossing an ocean, debating upon whether it was worth it to risk traversing the uncertain footing of a forty-year-old aircraft aircraft not built to the comfort or stability of commercial standards for the purpose of relieving his bladder in an hastily arranged bucket and/or tarp setup. Not a glamorous existence. Nevertheless, an existence he knew well.

When things finally did get back underway, Ash was keen to note elements of Tatiana's testimony. She was being more than a little evasive, which was something that gave him concerns. Mostly, those concerns were for her. At the same time, Tati's hesitation to speak was due in part (he assumed) to the fact that the incident was a personal matter between she and himself. Nobody's business, and moreover she was correct; it had no bearing on the facts of the Court Martial. Ash gave Tatiana a supportive look as she stepped down and went back to her seat. She was, as she had stated earlier, family to him. Jack's testimony was likewise terse, though he did do something interesting: He repeated Tati's speech word for word, and in front of a native Russian speaker in attendance. Of course, that same Russian was there when the words were originally spoken, so there was nothing new there. And surprisingly, the Major did not reveal what was said, either.

When it was his turn to give testimony about the events in Quarantine, Ash went against his instincts to be as open as possible with these people. He remained honest, but he stood by Tatiana's decision to keep their personal affairs personal, as backed up by Major. Upon being asked why Tati hit him and what was said, Ash responded, "Respectfully ma'am, this is a family matter. I cannot in good conscience answer when it has been established through testimony that this has no bearing on the trial." He continued with a straight face, "Plus, I don't speak enough Russian to give an accurate accounting of what she said, ma'am." All true things. If it was important, the other Russian speaker would have reported it in detail. This felt like a fact-finding expedition for the sake of curiosity, not the pursuit of justice. And it was an interesting point that these people seemed to want to know more about how he got his ass kicked by a Prima Ballerina. In his old life, Ash might never have lived it down.

He maintained accurate testimony as to the events which followed, detailing the gap of time between the end of the incident and the beginning of Hunter's rant to Tatiana. He related to the best of his ability what Hunter had said to Tati, though the exact wording of it had to be taken with a grain of salt. The delivery was straightforward and without messy things like deviation of emotion. What he recalled to the utmost of detail was, upon being asked, his reaction to it. That reaction was less than endearing. His relating it to the court was toneless and direct. "I told him that Tatiana was a gem. I then told him that if he did that again I was going to, and I quote: 'feed you to the fucking corpses myself'. Following that, I asked if he understood what I had told him." The lack of direct response at the time of the incident was expected. Though if Ash were being completely honest, in that exact moment he almost wished that a move were made. Taking another hit that hour to remove what he perceived might be a threat to his people was a strategic risk that he was willing to take.

Concerning what came later, he didn't have a lot to add to what was already related to the court. "I cannot say much about the incident between Hunter and Beatrice. When Miss Decker first restrained him, my attention was on Tatiana. Afterward, I witnessed her give a warning about his behavior, followed by a possible consequence if her warning was not heeded, as the others have testified."

When dismissed, Ash rose and again, respectfully, assumed the role of a military man exiting a formal proceeding, as this was the closest thing to it that he had been party to in years. He settled into his seat and waited for the next time he might be called up.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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The words Nigel shared concerning the latest clue rattled around in Thalia's head for a while. Ask the cook? She was familiar with the phrase "too many cooks spoil the broth". It had even occurred to her when she read the note the first time purely because of the vaguest of similarities between that expression and the one referenced in the note, but had dismissed it almost at once. It failed to make any sense to her. Sitting there in the Auditorium, she began to mull over the idea again. It wasn't exactly the Riddle of the Sphinx in terms of clarity, as if riddles were meant to be very clear in the first place. Objectively, the first time she read through Oedipus she had no fucking clue what the answers were, either. So much for her fancy Boston college education. With a mental shrug, Thalia figured that she'd check in the with cook anyway, when the opportunity presented itself. It wasn't like she had a great idea of her own.

Testimony was entertaining at least. Thalia even cracked a smirk when Tatiana was answering questions. The woman was strong. A different kind of strength than to which she was accustomed, certainly different from what she was exposed to growing up, but it comes in many forms and she had it. What was more, she had friends willing to risk their safety and security here to back her up. Thalia was not one to make friends with a lot of people. More than half of the time, she wished she was far away from everyone else, maybe up in a tree someplace or on a rooftop, tending to her own needs purely. The last couple of years had her becoming more open to being chummy with a select, small group. Looking at how Tatiana had people willing to back her like this gave Thalia some pause for thought. There was yet another type of strength here, too. Like La Familia, but if any of these people were blood relation then she was the Queen of France. Glancing down at her artificial arm, she knew that she had to diversify the assets which kept her alive and gave her strength. But building one's self back up seemed much less difficult than making connections like that. She looked around the room, trying to find her "Eden" group, or what was left of them. Alexander, Manny, and Thana. Did they have that same kind of interpersonal loyalty? Thalia hoped so.

When called up to the stand, Thalia wasn't particularly sorry that she couldn't offer up much insight. She was not opposed to getting to the bottom of the situation and having this trial over with, granted. There simply wasn't enough motivation for her to feel one way or the other about it. Perhaps this is why her answers were very neutral and direct.

Concerning Ash and Tatiana: "I don't know. I don't speak Russian."

About her take on the exchange: "Ballerina drahpped the Captain. Kinda funny, but I wasn't watching them. They weren't a threat. I was watching everything else." And she was, after the initial assessment of the two of them. Thalia was watching their guards, the exits, potential problems, ways to leave fast and quiet if necessary. She was the very spirit of survival for herself and her people.

She was keenly aware of the space of time between Tatiana hitting Ash and the noise from Hunter. "Yah. A little time passed. I guess he wanted to be heard. I couldn't say why." Thalia did remember putting a token barrier between everyone else and Alexander around this time, as the older man had gone through enough right then. She was defensive even from Tatiana, even as she started to pick up Alexander's broken coffee cup.

But as for Bea? "Ah hell, I was helpin' Mugsy find a place to sit. Rough day." She remembered as much as anyone what happened, but didn't see the very start to it as the was literally just turning in the other direction. Beatrice had her back, and she was between Thalia and the potential threat. She did have a front row seat to the fallout, though. "Bea said she gaht this, then went and gaht it. She wrapped it up simple. More generous than I might have been. It was still impressive." Thalia didn't like talking about Beatrice. So far as she was concerned, the woman abandoned them. her actions prior were still very cut and dry, and deserved reporting as such.

Otherwise, Thalia told the truth, whole truth, and nothing but, relaying from her point of view with short, to-the-point responses. When it was done, she rose and returned to her seat with a dull expression on her face. Inwardly she was brooding, letting a little of her family's darkness of thought and action wash over her. This was all just a hair too civilized for her tastes. When she sat back down, Thalia gave a sigh and wondered when this would be over. Patience for matters like this was not her strongest point.

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Hank Wright Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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"Yeah, hey, I saw what happened. Same as everybody else say what happened. It was ...whew... one of the funniest damn things I've seen in my life. Multiple ass-kickings in a six minute period, I mean, yeah. Don't get me wrong, best as I can figure there was a lot of steam that had to be blown off. I guess you people get that all the time here with new blood. Ah, but what do I know? Well okay, I do know that if there was a movie based on the events of that day in Quarantine, it was going to really need that song, 'Everybody was Kung-Fu Fighting' in the soundtrack somewhere. But not the 70s version. Get another recording done, you know, bring things into the new millennium." Hank saw, and reported what he saw, but just couldn't help making various points of social commentary from time to time.

"Look, you want me to break this down psychologically? I can do that. Make a puppet show for you if you like. Haul out the various verbal charts of needs and isms" that fueled that blood-and-coffee Bacchanalia back there. Stuff like that. It isn't going to change a thing from what everybody else is saying. The coffee was great, though. Spared no expense for the refreshments."

Upon the application of a sterner tone or insistence of relating the basics of what he witnessed, Hank was able to make a no-nonsense summary of the events in question, from his point of view. Summarizing was something he did well. But so was bullshit. This had a scoop of each, hopefully with a pearl of cranky wisdom atop.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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"Hmm," intoned Ash in a contemplative manner. Thana's point wasn't something that he had considered; that they were reviewing witnesses giving repetitive testimony for the sake of those who were not present. That would mean that, in addition to the general application of justice, this Court Martial was also about letting the public know. It made sense. One of the lessons of an Officer concerned the application of authority, specifically two types: Granted Authority and Perceived Authority. Granted was easy. It was given to you, like a title. It was the way a career Sergeant would defer to a still-green Lieutenant, or the way a civilian employee would follow the orders of someone in a management, just because they were in charge. Perceived Authority was a little different. It was knowing that the person in front of you was capable of handling the task at hand and genuinely trusting that their judgement was bringing everyone forward. It was an issue of respecting that authority, even if rank was not a factor. Or that there were looming consequences for disobeying. The Council of Camp Mexico Beach seemed to be demonstrating that they possessed both Granted and Perceived authority, moreover wanted everyone to know it before they passed judgement. It struck Ash as the right thing to do. But to her continuing commentary about the initial meeting of Hunter, he responded, "Better safe than sorry these days. Curious on how this one turns out."

Ash's potentially too-indepth reading of the situation was cut short, his mechanism for introspection jarred to a sudden stop by Thana's comment about liking their time apart, citing that it kept her from getting bored with him. It took him a half a second to realize that she was laying on the sarcasm, especially when she brought up the bit about them proving the adage about absence making the heart grow fonder. Ash was not a fan of that saying. He'd lived it for almost a year and a half. He had to admit that it was funny, however. Ash wrapped an arm around Thana for a second and gave her a quick squeeze and half-whispered, "Oh, you're a tease," he said playfully. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Thana had finished her soup first, which was indicative that Ash was either losing his touch or that he was slowing down his usual Army pace of eating for the sake of demonstrating manners in front of Thana. She wasn't a whole lot ahead; just enough to make his last bites when she started counting down a hurried affair. The memory of the last time she counted down a minute rebounded fresh in his mind, prompting him to recover a mindset more suited to basic training. The last few spoonfuls of vegetable soup disappeared in a shovel-like fashion and he found himself scrambling to tidy up his area and get the task of putting his things away accomplished. Thana's count continued, the maddening cadence which dictated the next moments of his life, and he swore to beat it to its natural conclusion. Breezing past Thana on his way up to the front of the Mess Hall, Ash slowed to offer to take her dishes and flatware as well, then shook every leg he was capable of shaking for the purposes of outmatching the inevitable countdown.

By the time they met outside of the Mess Hall, Ash was smiling with a cocky confident air about him. He stood to attention and threw a spot on salute, relating in chipper tones, "As ordered, Ma'am." He was only too happy to accept his prize, holding it to the same regard as any honor bestowed upon him in recent memory. It occurred to him that he really, really wasn't accustomed to smiling this much. It was something he looked forward to getting used to.

Returning to the Auditorium, Ash took up the seat that he was sitting before their meal break. Like Thana, he made sure to see where she was sitting, way up on the balcony, before turning his eyes to the gathering group of people filling seats. There wasn't much for him to do now except bear witness to the remainder of the trial unfolding, and he was going to do so respectfully, observing as much as he could and taking mental notes on the entirety of the situation.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Education Center (M) Skills: Stealth

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"Catholic," Thalia enunciated, in response to Nigel's summary that her father was War Priest. Looking at the history of the Church, it wasn't a completely unfair comparison. In the case of Father Benicio Gonzalez though, it wasn't wholly accurate. She shuffled back another mouthful of bread, adding to her statement while chewing, "Wrong Horseman." While the horseman of War was an interesting choice out of the Four, her family served a different master.

The joke that Shears made about Joaquin being a barber didn't exactly hit Thalia's funny bone. She did give the man a deferred bob of her head and a quiet, "Nnn," as he mentioned that her brother was a more than fair hand with a knife. Yeah, that sounded like him. And her, once upon a time. But she couldn't bring herself to force a laugh at the idea that the guy should have been a barber. A more natural bit of mirth did escape her when Shears mentioned Atticus knocking out a tooth and blessing it, though it sounded more like a misplaced snort than anything else. Thalia rarely laughed pretty. Or laughed, period. Maybe she should loosen up some. Take up a hobby. Socialize, maybe. Open up to others. The directed thought of that almost made her snort again. Not today, and probably not tomorrow.

A couple more ideas as to what answered the riddle on the card came to mind, but they all seemed off. Thalia gave a sigh and flipped over the card so that Nigel might see it, then stuffed it into a pocket. It was frustrating enough dealing with this semi-domestic goose chase, and she was fresh out of ideas. As soon as attention was diverted elsewhere, anywhere but on her, Thalia gathered her things on her tray and quietly rose. Hopefully, she could just disappear into the movement of people and find her way back unnoticed. Unfortunately, the same curse that was upon her once godly ability to be quiet asserted itself again. The tray slipped off of her metal hand where she had tried to balance one side of it and clattered back onto the table, drawing more attention than she liked. Exhaling with acceptance and resignation of her own failures, Thalia walked her tray up to the dump site and handled her affairs accordingly, then hit the bricks outside.

It was a quick enough jog back to the Education Center. And the same measured amount of time to find her seat, again. She tried to mull over the meaning of the next clue, throwing any kind of euphemism or colorful, cliched phrase into it to see what might logically stick, but it was of no avail. Then she took a different approach, considering which person in Camp might fit those words. The idea now being not to figure out the riddle but to apply the words of the riddle to someone she had met in here. A lot of hands messing things up. Too many hands. Thalia was not operating out of her wheelhouse with this. Then again, her usual wheelhouse was apparently cut off from her, so this was just par for the course today. She could figure it out later. The trial was about to begin again.

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Hank Wright Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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"You know there, Maldonado, being in charge of balls is way too easy a dig to get in. Standards, sir. Standards." But even that was intended to be it's own piece of snark, as opposed to an actual admonishment. Hank gave a shrug and returned to his food, hesitant to admit aloud but fully aware of the fact that life wasn't, for the first time in a long while, particularly awful right then. The kind of not particularly awful that made him start to think to the future. Specifically, his future in this place and how he might make himself useful. This idea was not to be confused with the initial plan of his and Wayne's, involving retiring on a boat someplace and fishing until they died of boredom and/or cardiac arrest. That might yet be possible, although no one here was going to hand them that retirement boat unless certain criteria was met first, not the least of which would involve, well, them being useful. So he thought to this point almost exclusively.

That exclusivity was shattered when Wayne fired a tiny crustacean out of his nose. Hank raised his eyebrows with some surprise, regarding the act as one might a missed putt on a golf program. "Ooh... almost, buddy. Though (and this is just me, personally), I might lay off the nose candy unless we pull sentry duty. Then, I say we bring on the Colombian Pixie Sticks. Like, by the handful." Hank was a fan of purpose over pleasure, unless that pleasure involved steak and beer. Then again, that was its own purpose.

On the subject of serenading Ash and Thana, Hank was in full agreement with his nuthouse associate. "You know, pick out their window and I'm all for it. The pipes might be a little rusty, but... Wait, there is no 'but'. It's gonna sound ass-awful. I'm in. You want to see if Sportacus wants to join? Get the band back together, huh?" Hank was having way too much fun with the idea.

Ordinarily, the idea of joining someone on a "potty break" might have seemed a little odd. There were two glaring facts that were appropriate to the situation, though: Anyone who spent more than a couple hours out in the world might realize, if you had to cop a squat or even just water a bush, you were in a vulnerable position and it was essential that you had someone on standby to man a rifle while you took care of business. And secondly, Hank really did have to relieve himself. "Yup, keep those more aggressive suitors off of you. Gotcha, let's go." So after their moment ditching excess fluids, Hank walked alongside Wayne, opting to discuss what songs might be appropriate for a moonlight serenade until they eventually found their way back to their seats. Sure, it wasn't Court TV, but it was the next best thing.

"Hey, Maldonado? How do you think Judge Judy would have called this?"

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mess Hall (C) Skills: N/A

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The overwhelming officialness of the last few hours was tilting Ash's demeanor to something more soldierly, and with that came certain traits. Some were more beneficial than others, such as his tendency to speak clearly and respectfully to people around him, befitting his more humble position in the community. Others were less beneficial, like his occasional propensity to horking back a meal like he was still in Basic. It was this impulse that Ash had to stifle. He could already feel himself leaning forward and picking up his spoon like a digging tool rather than an eating utensil before remembering that he was, more or less, a gentleman. More than that, he was taking his meal with Thana, who deserved a more refined dining companion. So he straightened himself, held his spoon like a mannered adult, and indulged in the spicy vegetable-y goodness in front of him. Between veggies and fresh bread, this was something he would have gone for even back Before.

Thana's question about how much longer it was going to take initially gave Ash some confusion. Then after a moment, he realized that she was talking about the Court Martial, specifically. He gave her a little nudge and a monosyllabic, "Ah," when it came to him fully, and responded thoughtfully. "Couldn't say. Not far in and they are belaboring some points." He shook his head and gave a little shrug. He had no idea either. "It's not like anyone's disputing anything as facts." Which they weren't, yet. "I'm betting that whatever Monroe says will make or break the trial. Only X factor. It'll be done right after he speaks, one way or another."

Ash gave the occasional glance in Hunter's general direction. His position was not enviable, but it was telegraphed by his actions alone. If anything though, it gave the rest of the new people (himself included) a look at CMB's way of handling things without having to go through it themselves. This could be a learning opportunity, even if it pulled away from time better spent elsewhere. "Hope it's soon. I'd love to spend more time with you than it takes to finish a bowl of soup." His accent, usually slight, was beginning to flare again. Thana had that effect on him sometimes, Ash realized.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Mess Hall (C) Skills: N/A

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Thalia did not like having her plans postponed. Shears was being evasive, but did say that he would pass along what he needed to after food. This earned him two things: 1) A long, hard stare from Thalia, and, 2) a grudging amount of respect about prioritizing supper first. Fine. She had waited this long. While not an overly patient lady about most things social, Thalia had waited this long, and could for another half hour or so. So she went along ahead and got her meal, now sitting quietly by herself as to avoid social situations that might potentially annoy her.

Imagine then, dear readers, her surprise when two social situations sought her out, specifically. The first of the two came in the form of Nigel, the fellow with whom she had sparred earlier. The mostly casual way in which they had corresponded before was okay enough, but the look on her face might have tipped people off that she didn't want to be bothered. This was the price for living in civilization, Thalia supposed. She took in a breath and let it out slowly, then looked to the Roman-ish guy. Nigel wasn't causing any harm. She simply wasn't accustomed to his presence. It reminded her a little of that first meeting with Alexander. She didn't particularly give a rat's hindquarters about that guy, either. She had half a mind to ditch him after he entered one of the houses in search of coffee mugs. Things had a way of changing. This did not mean that she was going to welcome the guy into conversation with open arms (though there was some respect due to the earlier fisticuffs). So she went with her usual direct approach, when asked about her history with weapons. "Dad insisted." It wasn't much, and it was said around a mouthful of bread, but there it was. She might even feel better about the answer were it not for the fact that she pretty much got set back by ten years of training, thanks to having to re-learn around a false limb. Then, just to throw the man a bone, "Father Benicio Gonzalez. Priest outtah Monterrey." It wasn't anything he wouldn't have gotten by asking Atticus or Joaquin. Less, in fact. Thalia continued eating her chowder.

The second one, the barber, was semi-invited. Not expected that soon, granted. He had said something about food first. Apparently, he meant after he'd gotten his meal, not after he was through with it. It was probably a clarification that she should have inquired into. In any case, he had something she wanted. That dead stare loomed on her face again as she accepted the card, her eyes not leaving Shears's face until she flipped it over to inspect its lettering.

~They say many hands make for easy work, yet this one person would know this not to be true.~

It had to be something about hands, didn't it? Thalia wasn't immediately sure what the note could have meant. She lay it face-up next to her on the table and got back to her meal, a slight scowl forming in the face of it all. Could it mean whomever is in charge of the boats? Hands being another word for personnel, and them being busy. Or maybe it was Tesla, the person who labored to make her metal hand. Of those two possibilities, she went for the latter more then the former, but in the end had no idea. A glove maker, maybe. In any case, she continued to hork back her meal, savoring that which could be savored in the relatively shorter amount of time it took her to insert food into her frame.

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Hank Wright Location: Mess Hall (C) Skills: N/A

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In the midst of a classic, quite Hank-ish mentality of why-the-hell-not-(?), our steely, middle-aged protagonist gave a shrug, made a face of exaggerated (if false) consideration, and followed Wayne over to the stage area. Being the ever astute observer of the human scene, this particular chow hall was a veritable library of multiple different personalities, all sitting and eating together in what he observed was relative peace and harmony. At least on the surface. It never ceased to amaze the ordinarily cynical man that circumstances had a way of throwing together people who might have otherwise truly despised one another in such a way as to inspire not only cooperation, but community. It was a way that humanity often marveled Hank. Not that he might ever let a word of this be breathed out loud and in front of people. It was a beautiful thing, though. The end of life as they knew it served to amalgamize those who remained into a single culture, whether they liked it or not. And as the next generation came up after them, humanity would see a tougher, more apt variation of human rise to claim the world around them.

Of course, this was also the beginning of humanity's second Dark Age, so all of the hearts and flowers could take a screaming vault into the back seat of leering pessimism. And with THAT in mind, Hank strode right along behind Wayne, plopped his happy ass down on the edge of the stage next to him, and took a couple of bites before giving his very good friend's words a heartbeat of consideration before returning his commentary with, "Yeah, I wonder how good he is at distance running. Hell, for that matter, I wonder how he's going to look with an apple in his mouth." What followed was, albeit a little forced, a chuckle that was reminiscent of one or the other of the puppet duo, Statler and Waldorf.

But to follow up, so long as they were entertaining themselves at the expense of others, "Whoa, hold on a sec there, buddy! It that Sportacus over there, trying to make time with one-armed chick? Oooh Sporty, you nut; got some ball-balls on that one, huh?" Hank made a cocky expression and nudged Wayne with his elbow. Then he looked to the soup. Yup, that bowl full of happy was going down quick.