[hr][hr][center][h1][color=firebrick]Black James![/color][/h1]
[img]https://v.cdn.vine.co/r/avatars/6AE78329E91063505631975227392_pic-r-1396533712688c4afde8ecf.jpg.jpg?versionId=ZnGOSit0zozlhxpJk0w6QVx4cSozVRdq[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Newnan Main Road, Gates
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	The black and pewter Silverado pulled around from the Armory, piloted by Newnan's own default sniper/concierge hogger. It pulled to a stop near the Nordic Girls' wagon, which was presently in front of the Courthouse. He nodded to the tall, fierce-looking lady in full mail armor, and to the two men escorting them all. Pretty girl. Nice armor. He would have loved to get a hold of a set of his own, despite the fact that it would horribly clash with his overalls. Probably his stetson, too. But back to business. 

	James whistled for a young lady passing by and handed off his walkie-talkie, with the instruction to [color=firebrick]"Run this back up the tower, honey. Spotter needs it more'n we do."[/color]

	He waited with concerned impatience as Zoie outlined the plan to the new girl on the bike. It was necessary for all members of this little party to know what to do, and when to do it. Still, he could imagine the muted snarls of the Dead outside the walls, pressing ever closer. James wanted to be done with this task, and quickly. The had gone through enough today without a prolonged Dead Guy siege. 

	When the woman with the impressive baseball bat asked about transportation, James piped up, speaking in a polite (if hurried) Southern twang. [color=firebrick]"Evenin' ma'am. Name of James Mandingo Grady, friends call me Black James(!). As Miss Zoie 'splains it, we gonna need that crotch-rocket you on. Now, she gots the plan goin'; ain't much else to tell. We hold up a bigassed slingshot, Miss Zoie fires off them party favors. Now we gotta move 'fore we lose the light."[/color]

	Terse, maybe. But he meant it as kindly as the urgency of the situation would allow. James put his truck into gear and eased the accelerator down, drawing them closer to their next task. 

	[color=firebrick]"'Sides, I got two sides of beef needs savin', 'fore she spoils."[/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] With the wagon, in front of the Courthouse
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	The wagon was directed (ahem sorry, [i]escorted[/i]) to an area of street in front of a building that, back before the world fractured, must have been a municipal building. The two men that gave them escort seemed civil enough, friendly even, in a guarded "I'm willing to shoot you dead" kind of way. Whatever happened here must have been massive. At least they were behind solid walls. 

	The feelings of muted gratitude for the walls and fuzzy empathy for the people behind them faded, at least temporarily, as their conveyance rolled past the Hordebuster on the way to the Courthouse. Bridgette gave the iconic truck a one-finger salute as she led Cadence past it. Yeah, that was the booze-fume dumptrain that brought a horde of Biters down on their location. Damned big one, too. It was only right that they redirect their mistake. 

	When they finally came to a halt, Astrid helped Redhead get the Future Mrs. Hook inside the building. Batgirl was busy talking to her Away Team about whatever the hell nigh-suicide [i]she[/i] wished she was doing. Now Bridgette was alone with their weapons and supplies. Yup, just their weapons and supplies, Cadence, Edgar, their escort, and a good number of curious eyes. Truly alone. 

	Bridgette climbed up the wagon and sat on its edge, high above the eye level of the people milling around. She wanted a good vantage on her situation, and wanted to ensure that curious eyes didn't turn into curious hands with their belongings. She kept her face stern, but occasionally nodded at passersby in the interests of not being seen as a threat. These people obviously had enemies, aside from the non-breathing kind. She had no desire to be mistaken for one of them. 

	Her elevated line of sight gave her a good, full view of the Away Team getting set up to Away. She already knew the basic concept; slingshot with bungee cords and gardening tools. Sounded fairly basic. But what she saw - great, winged hewing spears instead of rakes and such - made her lose her inward calm for a moment. The spears were very much like her own. She was very familiar with those weapons, as well she should be. She had made them almost three years ago. 

	Bridgette saw Ash walking up behind them, looking ruggedly weary as he fell into military step behind the procession. He seemed quite the presumptuous one, holding his carbine in front of him and standing up straight, look of dead certainty in his tired eyes. Oh yes, very certain. She'd have to remedy that. 

	[color=orangered]"Hey, Walldick!"[/color] she spat at him. [color=orangered]"Oh, I'm sorry. [i]Captain[/i] Walldick. Where the hell do you people get off salvaging [i]our fucking supplies[/i]?"[/color] She pointed toward the trio in the Distraction Team, hefting spears in preparation of the maneuvers to come. She shifted her voice into a low, accusatory tone, [color=orangered]"None of you asshairs are touching our shit until I get answers."[/color]

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=steelblue]Ashton Holloway[/color][/h1]
[img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/bcfab66a674d39bfaaddc28bd62d4470/tumblr_inline_ne41kcr5UN1s5par2.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Newnan Inner Wall, Southern Gate Post
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	Wow, she seemed pissed. The last issue seemingly ironed out, all parties inside the gates, and a joint mission to protect them all underway, and now Surly Viking Chick wants to start problems. Fine. Ash looked over to where Bridgette was pointing, and finally put a few pieces together. 

	Newnan had come across the walled and locked away settlement built out of the Renaissance Festival a while back. He had not been there personally, but from report from James it held very little in the way of obvious supplies. The weapons they recovered looked a lot like the ones that this livid woman carried with her, the spears (most readily observable) of almost identical construction. Then there was the comment she made earlier, about crafting her own weapons. Blood and sweat going into them, something like that. Ash stared at the woman, realization dawning on him. 

	This lady seemed really upset. Too upset to be short a few melee weapons and some armor. He suspected there was more. In time, they might just have to revisit the Fair in earnest. But for now, he wanted to make sure that their community was safe and his new guests were relatively satisfied. [color=steelblue]"Fairburn, right? That place was abandoned, Miss. Not a whole lot in there, I wouldn't call it [i]supplies[/i], persay. Rest assured we're mostly honest folk here. You've got questions, and we'll be happy to answer after the emergency's done, ok?"[/color]

	This didn't seem to satisfy her, at least not completely. At least she wasn't about to cause a commotion about it, so time to explain was bought. Ash was about to continue, when his radio crackled to life. 

	[b]"Captain? Hey, Ash? This is Jim, at the gate. You umm... You need to handle this, sir."[/b]

	The tone of his voice was disturbing, almost heartbreaking to hear. 

	[b]"It's Alicia, sir. She's come home."[/b]