"We need to... we need to get out of here. We need to get weapons and we need to leave." Valencia said calmly, restating her point and walking off back to the kitchen. Was she shell-shocked by the events? Probably. Was she currently trying to internalize all of the fear and despair and crippling anxiety she had inside of her? Most definitely. But was she correct? Absolutely. They needed weapons--more than what the diner could provide--and they weren't going to find them by sitting around here doing nothing but crying. So, she decided that the next best step would be to grab something big and heavy from the kitchen. A few moments of searching led her to a janitors supply closet near the back, where she was able to find a pipe, probably left there after the "plumbing incident" the diner had a few months back, as the owner called it. She felt the weight. Swung it a few times. Pretended to block with it. She decided that yes, it would be a good temporary weapon.

"Yeah. This'll work."

Meanwhile, Joel was doing his best to calm the distraught Sam that was in front of him. He figured out quickly that he wasn't very good at it. He barely talked to anyone to begin with, and for good reason. He didnt [i]like[/i] talking to them. He wasnt [i]experienced[/i] enough to deal with them. He got nervous. And now he was tasked with helping somebody through emotional turmoil? Who the fuck signed him up for this? ut he steadied himself, and spoke the first thing that came to his head.

"um... dont punch the floor." He said, immediately regretting it, looking up to the roof, shaking his head, asking the gods why he was given such poor socialization skills. But he wasnt ready to give up. Maybe one more try. He looked back down at Aam, who was looking at him now with an expression that Joel couldnt pin down. Maybe it was anger? Confusion? Just sorrow, still? Regardless, Joel did the only thing he could think to do in a time like this: just let words pour out of his mouth in hopes that it would somehow turn out something meaningful.

"Look...uh, that thing was fucking big... and it was strong, um, obviously. And so theres proably nothing you could do about it, and theres no point sayting its your fault because, i mean, come on, clearly it wasn't. Because there was a giant fucking thing in here and it killed him. It was [i]that things[/i] fault. I mean, it came in and killed someone, how is that your fault right?"