[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=steelblue]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1] [img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/bcfab66a674d39bfaaddc28bd62d4470/tumblr_inline_ne41kcr5UN1s5par2.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building [b]2[/b], Mess Hall [/center][hr][hr] Ash's private conversation with Astrid was taken as more of an information dump than anything else. Beni had something they actually needed. Maybe not them directly, but the heart medication for Froggy was in the best interests of everyone. There were a decided lack of decent medical professionals floating around Georgia in recent years, and no active schools to train more. That, and the older Frenchman was a good man. As far as Ash could tell, he was more than worth saving. [color=steelblue]"Understood, Astrid. You're the next best thing we have here to Froggy, and you know the Infirmary's layout and inventory. You negotiate medical supplies with him. I'll extend an invitation to bring his injured man here. If these are good people, we need to be on friendly terms."[/color] A thought passed into his mind briefly, which he spoke aloud to Astrid a breath later. [color=steelblue]"Question: Any of you guys in Medical or Pharma know how to make antibiotics? I would devote resources if we could make that happen."[/color] He shook his head. Thought for another time, very possibly. Hopefully now the thought was put into someone else's head. Before he returned to the table with Beni, Ash advised one point for the upcoming bartering session: [color=steelblue]"Don't mention specifically who the heart meds are for. Not at first, anyway."[/color] [color=steelblue]"Sorry about that."[/color] said the Captain to their guest. [color=steelblue]"My medic has reminded me about those from our group who have lost limbs. It was very touch-and-go, even with stable care. We lost one after a forced amputation. Another was luckier, but she was in the Infirmary for a month before she was okay to go. Before we get into negotiations, sir, I am offering our medical resources to your man who lost his leg. Call it good faith."[/color] Ashton gave Beni a moment for his words to linger, then continued. [color=steelblue]"Whenever Astrid is finished with her meal (and I'm not rushing her), she, you, and myself can head elsewhere and talk trade. If you have any surprises, I'm sure Astrid will protect me. She can be a frightening lady."[/color] He was only partially being sarcastic with that last statement. Astrid could be a fearsome woman, true. Of course, Ash's .45 and the proficiency with which he used it wasn't anything to sneeze at, either. [hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=orangered]Bridgette Vinters[/color][/b][/i][/h1] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/b4/78/d5b478ac0063ce48f5bab3cb5648b0a1.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Within the Outer Wall, Livestock area - Stables [/center][hr][hr] Bridgette slowly rode her charger behind the nameless Newnanite, visibly miffed at being called upon to perform yet another task outside of her usual duties. She understood that, in these trying times, no one had the luxury of concrete job descriptions. No, what gave the foulmouthed lady of Scandinavian descent irritation was that she had plans, ones that she was hoping to finally be done with by nightfall. There was precious little daylight left. Obviously her projects would have to be postponed in lieu of difficulties that the combined efforts of the agricultural staff and that guy that Ash banished to shit-shoveling duty (wasn't he named Guy? Weird...) apparently couldn't figure out. Of course, in her mentally agitated state, Bridgette was almost completely certain that some of these people couldn't find their own ass with both hands and a map. [color=orangered]"Er du jævla seriøs?"[/color][sub]1[/sub] she growled to herself. She directed her attention to the man she was following, [color=orangered]"Look, can we pick up the fucking pace a little bit? Dunno about you, but I've got shit to do, huh? I mean, its not like I..."[/color] Bridgette could have slapped herself right there. Given the fact that she knew precisely where the stables were, she sure as hell didn't need a guide. And of course, she had the benefit of being on a frigging horse. She had no need to wait on anyone. Just to make sure, Bridgette looked back to see if her recent assistant, Jack, was following her. [color=orangered]"Marky got himself lost, hmm?"[/color] she mumbled to herself. Ok, [i]now[/i] she had no need to wait on anyone. [color=orangered]"I don't have time for this. I'll meet you there."[/color] The impatient lady nudged her horse into a canter and rode him down to the Inner Wall's main gate. From a block or so up, one might have heard the harsher intonations of, [color=orangered]"How about you stop that "Who Goes There?" bullshit and open the fucking gate? I'm on the clock!"[/color] By the time the gate closed back, Bridgette was already halfway down to the stables. When she got there, she tethered her own beast next to the troughs, got him a little treat, and walked over to the other horses. It had been a while since she had visited this part of the community; Bridgette concentrated on her responsibilities to her own four-legged companion and let whomever handled this do their own thing. Her opinion of this swiftly changed when she entered the enclosure built for the four equines now claimed by Newnan. Of course they had problems settling down. At least one of them was spooked; she could tell this automatically. One spooked horse had a tendency to get others nervous. Not just that, but it looked like no one had provided them fresh fodder nor brushed them for a while, and if Bridgette was a betting woman, she would have put a big, shiny nickel down that no one had serviced their hooves in at least as long. The stables looked mucked out, at least acceptably enough for this time of the day. And speaking of this time of day - while there was a chunk of daylight left, she needed to get on it immediately. But that sense of urgency never quite removed her desire to gripe. [color=orangered]"...probably that girl that touched my horse..."[/color] Whatever the reason, she had work to do. The horses shouldn't have to suffer because of the neglect of their handlers. With a look of stern care, Bridgette supplemented their feed and gave them fresh water. The second after, she jogged to the nearby toolshed, recovered various blades and brushes, then returned to the stable to groom and settle the unkempt, nervous animals. It might have been easier to accomplish were she to have shed her mail and shield, but in her estimation, taking the easiest path was the last option. It's nothing she hadn't done frequently, out on the open road. Her own plans be damned, those horses needed her. Fast, but thorough. And she wasn't exactly in love with the setup they had for a stable, either. [hider=Translations] 1 - Are you fucking serious? [/hider] [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] Building [b]B[/b] (Zoie's House) [/center][hr][hr] [color=firebrick]"Why, thank you much, Miss Zoie."[/color] began James, talking through his own mouthful of venison and epicurean sundries. He swallowed hard and continued, [color=firebrick]"We gotta get a regular thing like this comin' in. I mean, them hogs' young'uns will feed us through winter, but we need us some fresh meat year round, you know?"[/color] Upon hearing Zoie say that she felt alright, particularly after being [i]shot[/i] earlier on in the day, James waved his fork at Zoie, emphasizing his words in a way that only an ebon-skinned man of the deep south could. [color=firebrick]"Now Zoie, you listen here. You go a'runnin' around and trying to do stuff, you gonna tear something open you ought not."[/color] Immediately thinking upon his choice of words, James couldn't exactly think of an instance where someone tore something open inside of themselves that they [i]ought[/i], but he stuck by it. Verbally heading her off, he followed up, [color=firebrick]"You know what I mean. You takin' it easy, if'n I got tape you down and give Dick [i]all kinda[/i] pillows."[/color] Meg's entrance came as a welcome surprise. It didn't stop him from continuing to shovel food into his face, even though manners clearly dictated otherwise. He was hungry. There was food. Meg was someone he considered a sweetheart, but her presence didn't mitigate those two facts about his situation. James would have to find time and apologize to her later, if he remembered to. For the time being, he continued to attack his food. [color=firebrick]"Doing just fine, Meg. Just fine. Hey, you get anything for supper yet? Mess Hall's serving up some goodness, if I do say so myself."[/color] Yes, he was still talking between, and sometimes through, bites. Also yes, his stomach urged him to keep at it.