[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ff00]Jack Hudson[/color][/h1][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/321eb303e7d61b7e0f5edfd014c66c32/tumblr_mk1idcefWq1qc2fi0o3_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][center]Location: The Mess Hall[/center][hr][hr]Jack chuckled a bit at the mention of an escort into the shower. He wouldn't mind providing Tatiana that type of escort. Rubbing Tatiana's shoulder with his arm, he couldn't help but feel a bit of bliss. For a few days, they wouldn't have to worry about surviving, about where their next meal would come from. They could have a normal life, something he had always longed for over these three hellish years. 

[color=00ff00]"Thank you, sih,"[/color] Jack said, as Ash rose and began to depart. The woman from before, Zoie, with the thick accent barged inside, pointing a gun at someone. Jack's eyes widened and he tightened his grip on Tatiana, instinctively reaching down to draw his weapon with his other hand.

Until, of course, he remembered that the only weapon Tatiana and he had with them was the ability to put hotels on Park Place and Boardwalk. He gulped a bit, his eyes wide, as he scanned around the Mess Hall, already looking for a way to escape should things get messy. It had been too good to be true, a place like this...

He let out a deep breath as the newcomer dropped to his knees. As far as he could tell, it looked like tensions that went unresolved far too long. The danger seemed to have passed. And being a former cop, he couldn't help but instinctively trust Ash, the military officer. Ash and Zoie seemed to have things under control, but he didn't loosen his protective grip on Tatiana. He couldn't stand the thought of letting go, and in some gun fight between Ash, Zoie, and the newcomer, a stray bullet hitting her...

He couldn't let her die--not after what happened to Sutton. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#cc6699]Édouard Riviere[/color][/h1][img]http://65.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mes28sPjog1raoz4m.gif[/img][/center][hr][center]Location: Flower Importers of Georgia Arnco Mills, Georgia[/center][hr][hr]Édouard's face lit up, spotting movement. It had been ages since he saw another person, and to Édouard, there could only be one possible explanation. His family must have learned about how horrible his previous bodyguard had been and made arrangements to send him a new one. Running up towards the front of the shop, Édouard stood just a foot away as the body fell from the rope, its neck popping. 

[color=cc6699]"Alors, ce n'est pas grave,"[/color] Édouard murmured, looking with pity at the person in front of him. People broke bones all of the time-- surely, a neck would be able to heal as well. The pop he heard could have been his spine cracking as well, just releasing some healthy tension. His eyes traveled up the shoulder, and Édouard grimaced. There was no good help these days. [color=cc6699]"Ta blessure...Elle été causée par un mort-vivant?"[/color] 

The corpse began to move, feebly trying to move forward to bite Édouard. Deciding that the answer must have been yes, Édouard took a step back, figuring that the rope would work as some sort of leash. [color=cc6699]"Je t'épargnerai, mon ami...Eh, finir de rigoler!"[/color] With his rapier, Édouard did perhaps the only thing he was competent at: stabbing things in the head. 

[hider=Translations] Alors, ce n'est pas grave = Well, it's not serious. [i]Usually said when talking about injuries.[/i]
Ta blessure...Elle été causée par un mort-vivant? = Your wound...Was it caused by a walker? 
Je t'épargnerai, mon ami...Eh, finir de rigoler! = I'll spare you, my friend... Eh, no more joking around! [/hider]