[hr][hr][center][h1][color=steelblue]Ashton Holloway[/color][/h1]
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[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Mess Hall
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	Ash looked down at Ryan, now kneeling on the floor. Then back up to Zoie. Ordinarily, this would be the time that he evaluates new arrivals and explains the ins and outs of their struggling but hopeful community. Newnan needed people. As many people as their supplies could sustain. The more the merrier; it meant safety. It meant industry. More hands to find or produce food meant more food for everyone. Expansion. Taking back their part of the world. 

	Except for this guy. Hearing the word "Eden", Ash took instant distrust. 

	The newest new guy spoke directly to Ash, not quite making a demand but not quite asking, either. Rather ballsy approach for a man on his knees, hands bound behind him, with two guns trained on his head. All the same, he knew for a fact that he wasn't going to put a round in Ryan's face right that second. Probably not the next one, either. He had come to say something, and the Captain was going to hear him speak. Simple enough to start. 

	[color=steelblue]"Yes. I'm the guy in charge, thanks to you asshairs. But as long as we're trying to be civil, I'm happy to lower my gun."[/color] True to his word, Ash took aim about three feet lower on the man, the barrel pointed in the general vicinity of the man's pant zipper. [color=steelblue]"You came here to warn Zoie. So warn her. Warn me, too."[/color]

	Ashton glanced back to his new Second for an instant, and addressed her. [color=steelblue]"Make sure our guest is fed and has an armed escort. Then show him to one of our secure rooms in the Courthouse. I would like to speak with him in greater detail when I'm finished with my work today."[/color] 

	[color=steelblue]"Victor! Whenever you're ready, let's go make some peach brandy."[/color] Ash glanced to the young couple, the cop and the ballerina, [color=steelblue]"You two, feel free to take the tour. Newnan's not like it used to be, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."[/color]


[hr][hr][center][h1][color=firebrick]Black James![/color][/h1]
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[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Newnan, Inner Wall - Smoker
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	[color=firebrick]"Now ya see, Miss Doe... Can I callya Jane?"[/color] James had an odd habit of talking to things he was cooking, especially if he was by himself. It was a way for him to get ideas articulated, really out in the open. In this way, he could accept or reject an idea based on the merit of how ludicrous or acceptable it sounded when spoken aloud. The fact that he was addressing a smoking carcass notwithstanding, it made sense. To him. 

	[color=firebrick]"Now Jane, we don't know each other. An I ain't got nothing against you, neither. Just that you guys taste [i]so friggin' good[/i] when you're done up into sausages and stew meat. Get me some carrots an boil down your bones for a few hours.. Mmm hmmm. Yes'm, you are a tasty beast. So I hope you won't take this the wrong way, when I propose to Bossman and Bosslady 'bout getting hunting parties together. I mean, I been learning 'bout more than just hogs lately; buncha muthafuckas need more than corn an' peanuts, keep their strength up."

	"Hell you mean, "It's too dangerous"? Well I guess you'd know, wouldn't'cha? One hundred people left in Georgia, you get yo bitch ass hit by a truck. Don't you talk to me about dangerous. I was out there since the beginnin'. Never got hit by no car, set up in a grill, neither."[/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] Newnan Inner Wall
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	Bridgette was hoping that she would see her new friend out and about in Newnan, but it was just not the case. The stoic, nigh violent Bryn could take care of herself, no doubt about it, but she did have concerns sometimes. That thought gave her pause, if only for a moment. She genuinely [i]liked[/i] someone that wasn't herself or Astrid. The Captain guy, too. They had spent some time together, sparring. And Zoie was alright! Even that guy that called himself a Blackneck - he was a hell of a guy (but that [i]hat[/i]). There were others, too. Sally, from the kitchens. Tomory. The Future Mrs. Hook. Bridgette (gasp) [i]liked[/i] these people. Well, most of them. And some of them she was really coming to care about. 

	She sat atop her Cadence as the realization slammed into her. These mismatched asshats and borderline crazy people were fast becoming [i]her[/i] mismatched asshats and borderline crazy people. Just as much as any of the villagers from her last settlement. And in a relatively short time, too. It's amazing the difference one month can make. Marveling over her place in this new town, working [s]for[/s] with a good group, she hardly noticed the scent of sticky rot until it was obvious and nauseating. Just down the street, painfully upwind from Bridgette, shuffled a figure covered with gore and corruption. 

	Why in the hell did the guys in charge make her put away her weapons? Her spear might save a life today; maybe her axe. Even her seax would be preferable to having to bash the undead bastard's brains open with the knuckle points on her full length bracers. 

[color=orangered]"Jævla helvete!"[/color] she swore quietly, maneuvering Cadence as quietly as she could around behind the shuffling monster. God, it stank. When she was done killing it, she'd have to bury it twice. Leaning down from her horse, Bridgette snatched up a five foot length of piping leaning against the distillery storage with others of its kind, and kicked Cadence into a gallop. 

	Bridgette aimed Cadence just to the left of the Biter, intending to make a passing swipe at its head from behind. If successful, she could explode the fucker's head with a stout, well placed swing. And she'd better get it before it took notice of anyone living. Bree had no idea who fell asleep at the switch, but whoever let one of the Dead inside was going to get a full snakeboot colonoscopy courtesy of Miss Vinters. 

	The enraged Valkyrie did as Shakespeare instructed, and lent her eye a terrible aspect as she bore down upon her target, pipe raised, screaming a single word at the top of her lungs: [color=orangered]"[i]VALHALLA!!![/i]"[/color]

	The thing stopped. Even looked a little confused. It was carrying a bag, a very full bag. Carrying? The Dead don't carry. What was going on here? At the last possible moment, Bridgette pulled up her pipe and blew past. Reigning around, she took a closer look at her "Biter". It was Richard. 

	[color=orangered]"Fucking God fucking damnit, DICK! Why in putrid fuck are you [i]covered in liquid dead people[/i]? You damn near made me fix Zoie and Astrid's personal problems, you rank bitchfist! God! No, no... you're not going to the fucking showers yet. You and me are gonna find a garden hose so I can [i]blast the STANK[/i] off of you before you set foot inside a door. C'mon. And stay downwind!"

 	"Why the fuck are you wearing an entire corpse, anyway?"[/color]