[hr][hr][center][h1][color=firebrick]Black[/color] [color=steelblue]Ash[/color] [color=firebrick](!)[/color][/h1] [img]https://v.cdn.vine.co/r/avatars/6AE78329E91063505631975227392_pic-r-1396533712688c4afde8ecf.jpg.jpg?versionId=ZnGOSit0zozlhxpJk0w6QVx4cSozVRdq[/img] & [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/c9/2a/d7/c92ad7a5fbd32f06b155220d01ea4801.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Hordebuster [/center][hr][hr] Ash and James sat quietly in the back of the Hordebuster, sipping slowly on the potent, aromatic liquid the distraught Captain had brought with him. They were silent at first. Eyes met on occasion, as if wanting to speak on matters of great importance or significance, only to be averted before any meaningful discourse could begin. Mostly, they looked into their drinking vessels, watching the pure, flickering firelight of the hurricane lamp dance with warm, liquidy notes in their alcohol. The note of silence was interrupted by a shock of dirty blonde hair peeking over the side of the dump body. A very familiar and particularly flourished South Georgia accent announced the arrival of their new Second, Zoie. She hopped down, footwear slamming hard on the floor of the dump body. Immediately, Ash was briefed on the status of the town and its inhabitants, plus the new destination of the army of dead people that were previously outside of their gates. People were secure, fed, ready to end this pus-hemorrhager of a day. Ash concurred with the general assessment of the populace in this regard. Zoie requested a drink of something worthy of stiffening her upper lip. That he could do. [color=steelblue]"Thank you, Zoie. I'm afraid you'll have to content yourself with a pull from the bottle, 'less you brought your own cup."[/color] He passed over the handle, and accepted it back when she was through. James reached out for it, intent on keeping the circle moving. Instead of taking a drink immediately, he paused, considering the wide glass bottle in his hands. Reading the label out loud, James enunciated each syllable slowly. [color=firebrick]"Holloway & Sons - Homestyle Appalachian Sippin' Whiskey. This you, innit there, Ash?"[/color] [color=steelblue]"Yes it is, Mr. Black James, sir."[/color] responded Ash, his slight Virginian accent bolstered by weariness and drink. He took the bottle from his friend, and looked hard at it. Refilling his glass, he responded, [color=steelblue]"That's my label alright. I'm somewhere in the "& Sons" part."[/color] His face darkened as he handed the bottle back. [color=steelblue]"Dad and my brothers have passed, so I guess I'm the Holloway part of that label now. Don't have any sons. Would have liked to, though. Had a girl picked out I wanted to ask, eventually."[/color] The sudden flush of emotion was quickly stifled back with a sip of strong liquor. [color=steelblue]"Yeah. My label."[/color] He quickly changed the subject, [color=steelblue]"You cooking something out there? Smells amazing."[/color] [color=firebrick]"Yuh-huh, gots me that cow outta the tree. Treebound Bessie was dyin' slow and hard. Now we got enough meat for what's left of us to eat our fill tomorrow, an' then some to smoke away for later. Oh! Reminds me - you mind if I get into the dry spices tomorrow? 'Tween that and some o' your hooch, we have a damn tasty cow on our hands."[/color] Ash sighed, giving it a quick ponder. [color=steelblue]"Hell, go ahead. We need a morale boost. Don't overdo it, huh?"[/color] [color=firebrick]"Hey, you know me. When'm I ever overdoin' it?"[/color] The look Ashton gave James was priceless. James held up his hands in mock surrender. [color=firebrick]"Alright, alright. Ya got me. Don't overdo."[/color] Another sip or two, another stretch of silence. The tiny popping and cracking sounds of the lamp could be heard clearly. This time, it was Ash that broke the quiet. [color=steelblue]"You know, I'm glad you two are here. Seeing as my Quiet Reflective Time is shot, let's look ahead. These new people - I'm going to have to interview all of them anyway, give them a couple days to adjust, but they're going to need jobs here. Anybody stand out?"[/color] [hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Bridgette Vinters[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/b4/78/d5b478ac0063ce48f5bab3cb5648b0a1.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Grassy Knoll, Hordebuster [/center][hr][hr] Ok, first Ash waves her over the the back of Die Uberdumptruck with a giant bottle of hooch, then the Big Black Cowboy pauses cooking [i]an entire cow[/i] to climb in with him. Then the redneck lady climbs up the side and bounds in with a bang, after waving to her and Astrid. No one had come out yet. The curiosity it inflicted was maddening. [color=orangered]"What the fuck is so goddamned interesting about a dump truck?"[/color] she whispered quietly. Astrid had returned earlier, greeted by Miss Sally's wrapped bundle of semi-perishable foodstuffs that Bridgette tucked away for her. They were settling in nicely; horses tended, camp pitched, food in their bellies. The louder of the Valkyries had decided to clear a spot in the wagon and sleep there for the evening. The spring night was rather pleasant, and inclement weather could be staved away with the proper application of a tarp. Her battle-sister looked tired. Hell, Bridgette felt tired, herself. Still, curiosity urged her onward. [color=orangered]"Hey girl."[/color] she started at Astrid, [color=orangered]"I'm going to see what the deal is with the Frankentruck."[/color] The mission was not a stealthy one. No, the slightly taller Valkyrie simply jogged up to the back of the Hordebuster and climbed in. To her credit, she did not more forward until she made herself known to everyone inside. [color=orangered]"Holy crap, Walldick! You have a fucking treehouse back here! Hey, are girls allowed? (Sorry, Zoie.) I'm here for that drink you offered. Pour a girl a glass?"[/color] Her expression read that she was impressed, if it came out slathered in sarcasm. Ash, now ever so slightly tipsy, didn't feel quite like listening to the brunt of her colorful speech, at least not without retort. [color=steelblue]"Alright, Bitchhilde. You want a glass? How about you look in the cab, near the sleeper. I just remembered I have a couple mason jars or solo cups up that way."[/color] This was certainly NOT the alone time for which Ash had hoped. But it might be something better for him. Shocked by this supposedly straitlaced Captain insulting her quite skillfully yet still willing to pour a drink, Bridgette smiled broadly, nodded her head, and responded with an enthusiastic [color=orangered]"Hell, yes!"[/color] [color=steelblue]"Mess with anything, [i]anything[/i], and I'll shoot you myself."[/color] and a little softer, [color=steelblue]"Invite your friend over, too. Might as well start the Getting To Know You over drinks."[/color] The mood seemed to lighten in the back of the Hordebuster. A single toast was made to the fallen; just one. They all had lost people. The hurt of it never really goes away. But for the first time that day, a sense of quiet hope crept up from the damaged settlement. They had new friends and allies. Tomorrow would dawn, they would rebuild. They would go on runs, they would restock. Their new enemies would be busy with the Dead for long enough to give Newnan breathing space, and they could plan what to do next. Tonight they were safe. Tonight, they could just be. Another drink later, Bridgette was surprised again when the buzzed Commanding Officer posed her a solid, open question. [color=steelblue]"We're here to grow a community, which means that we need things from all of you. But tell me first - What do [i]you[/i] need from [i]us[/i], Bridgette?"[/color] She took a sip, for once in a great while speechless. In this new world, no one really ever asks that. After a short but expectant pause, Bridgette responded with an almost sedate, [color=orangered]"I'll have to think about that, Ash. Really will."[/color] A quiet night settled around the abbreviated City of Newnan, Georgia, punctuated by the song of many tiny crickets and the reassuring conversations of a group of steadfast survivors of this new world of calamity, defiantly present and spirited in the face of jagged adversity.