[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/5625b0e2-eb6d-4da8-b64e-f8426bbd176f.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Quarantine (Briefing)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	Ash felt a little tingle as Thana brushed her lips against his. For his sense of professional decorum, he couldn't help but smile wistfully at the woman. He lay a hand on hers as she cupped his cheek, leaning into it and whispering, [color=4682b4]"And I love you."[/color] Following the tender and meaningful exchange, much like his Navy counterpart, Ash straightened back into a seated attention pose and waited for whatever was coming next to happen.  

	It didn't take a very long time until Gunny entered the room, folder in hand. This was beginning to feel a lot less like an apocalypse scenario and more like a standard briefing; one of many that he would have been a part of prior to new orders or on the outset of a mission. It was lulling, in its own way, for someone who had chosen the Army as their career prior to dead people eating most of the living ones. Ash wouldn't allow himself to be seduced simply by the structure and order presented to him thusfar, nor the relative bounty of supplies they could produce, though these were amazing selling points. Fortune favored the brave; fortune favored the prepared. Take all that away, if Thana was there, this place could be a fortified cave where they would survive on an infrequent diet of mushrooms and lizards, he'd still give it a shot. 

	Listening carefully to what was being divulged, Ash began to put together a story. Rather, part of one involving the group that assaulted Eden so many months ago. If it was any indication of how the rest of the briefing was going to go, then it wasn't going to be a a very cheerful or sunny one. Ash gave a subtle glance toward Thalia and her new prosthetic. The girl was tough. Considering the family she came from, that might have been expected. But what really began to get to Ash was the description (presented with an amazingly flat and sanitized tone) was the lengths to which Thana had gone to help and protect the people under her care. This was further hammered home by the description of her injuries sustained, the lengths taken to keep her alive, and the pictures... The images were physically haunting. To his credit, Ash remained solid throughout the briefing, his emotion detectable by the details in his face. The eyes expressed more than the rest, but an alternating tightness of lips and the small swallow every now and again, or a tiny, sympathetic movement betrayed that his calm demeanor was being challenged by the news, even though he knew the outcome was eventually positive. 
	
	The fact that Gunny seemed to be singling him out for inspection in regular intervals wasn't exceptionally pleasing, either. Ash supposed he had the right, though. She was his daughter, after all, and Ash was the guy her father had never met, but probably heard about. 

	In the end, Ash merely nodded with an accepting look on his face. This was the way things were, and the decisions made were done for the preservation of human life, directly or indirectly. Even the mild stretching of the truth or misleading by assumption had a purpose. Betrayal was not an issue here - in order to betray there first had to be an understanding, or some element of trust. There was no such provision between the ruling members of the community and Ash, nor anyone else who came in with him. Ignoring the stare that he was getting from Macsen, Ash's eyes went to Thana. He gave her a small smile and a single, slow nod. He held no grudge and gave only his support, and that was only if she needed it.  



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=dc143c]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/4e737113-ebf8-43ca-a9b1-82a1bea4a781.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] Quarantine (Briefing)
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	[color=dc143c][i]"Holy shit, I lost my arm on April Fool's Day? Worst prank ever."[/i][/color] Thalia's eyes widened and she looked around with a sudden sense of alarm; for the life of her, she didn't know if she had said that out loud. Not usually the joking type, Thalia had been in elevated spirits in the short amount of time since they had discovered that Thana was alive. That, and just sometimes her inner thoughts became outer thoughts whether she approved the vocalization or not. Ordinarily this wasn't a big issue. This time, under a formal-ish setting in a manner that might show disrespect to both Thana and her father, it was different. Thalia understood the concept of a close family, especially when they favored one another like these Martins obviously did. It kind of made her homesick. If the tables were turned and she was the one sitting in front of this gaggle of misfits she referred to as friends (if only to herself) down in the family's complex in Monterrey, she'd be a little miffed if someone interrupted her father while he was filling in serious gaps in their information. 

	Lucky for her, she only got as far as a quiet mumble and a glance down at her prosthetic. 

	Taking out the personal nature of what was being passed along, this greatly reminded Thalia of the briefings that she would have to sit in on, and occasionally speak in front of, where they discussed procedure based upon specific assignment at her uncle's security firm. Nepotism might have played a part in getting her hired, thinking back on it honestly, but it sure as hell didn't affect her professional/threat ratings or occupational certifications nor did it have a damn thing to do with her position. All that was earned the hard way, [i]just like Thana[/i]. She was already the woman's friend, but the more she heard about her (now from family), the more she was impressed. The two of them had more in common than she initially thought. Rather than being close despite differences, it looked more like it was because they instinctively saw similarities in one another that they just hadn't discussed in any depth. 

	Thalia remained respectful and still, if not as rigid as Ash or Thana with their uncanny ability to [i]soldier on command[/i]. Every so often, upon listening to what their former group leader had done to help them and had to endure as a result, Thalia would let out a quiet, unobtrusive remark like, [color=dc143c]"Damn, girl,"[/color] or the like. This was a bit louder when it was her turn to view the images of her injuries and recovery. She looked again at her partially missing arm, up to Thana, and back down to her arm. The similarities kept coming.  

	

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=deb887]Hank Wright[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/12999738-8626-45f0-a9bb-32db85f056ed.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=burlywood]Location:[/color][/b] Quarantine (Conference Room)
[b][color=deb887]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	A good chunk of Hank's flagging consciousness wanted him to remain awake and see whatever it was that Wayne was putting on television next. Hank wouldn't have claimed to be a huge Mel Brooks fan, though he had seen a lot of his stuff before. It was okay. Of course, a functioning television with actual movies? Hell, Hank might be inclined to sit through some Candace Cameron something-or-another that had something to do about feelings or ... eh, womanly complaints, maybe teach some lesson with strong religious overtones that sounded more like chunky tofu-fueled hypocrisy. Then he remembered that, even the world had gone to shit, he still had his standards. Mel Brooks movies were alright. But the bottom line was, he mentioned that he was going to take a nap, and a nap he was a-taking.  

	The spurts of random mental flashes began to give way to a more structured thoughtform, lining up and materializing in his visual subconscious. He was a [i]slightly[/i] less mature and cranky bastard, coming home from one of the fairly lighter days at work. A quick shower and a change from his uniform to some jeans and a flannel, and Hank had a little time to relax before his dear Mrs. Wright finished preparing supper. Yes, it was idyllic in a sort of 1950's way, if that was your thing. Not something that Hank had planned for, his life just kind of worked out that way. They had a daughter who wasn't quite a woman yet, still convinced that video games were the best way to occupy her time after school (provided that homework was done, of course). She had just gotten into a very retro-looking one based around a short, knightly fellow with a proclivity for beating down villains with a garden spade. 

	He walked in to see his little girl giving the unholy smackdown to an array of oddly shaped enemies with a shovel. She liked this game. She kept saying, [i]"He's like you, Daddy! He fights the bad guys and keeps everybody safe!"[/i] Tears spilled from Hank's face. When he lived through this the first time, he didn't know what would happen a few days later. Recalling it in a dream, he did and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Hank would get a call around 4 p.m. while attending a Law Enforcement convention in Michigan, telling him that an undiagnosed heart condition claimed his dear wife while driving their little girl home from school. The resulting crash killed them both. 

[i]"You're my Shovel Knight, Daddy!"[/i]