[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=c0c0c0]The Great Bazhooli[/color][/b][/i][/h1] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0c830ac3-637e-4722-a654-d4192b0bd4c2.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building [b]7[/b] (Rec Center) [/center][hr][hr] It had been a very strange day. Strange, but quite hopeful. Just this morning, The Great Bazhooli had been traveling down a stretch of southern railway via handcar, little ammunition and zero food, his only companion for quite some time being a fuzzy, orange tom cat that came and went as he pleased. He had lost much. Not necessarily moreso than anyone else, but the hit had come more recently. His group - family and friends for as long as he could remember - were wiped out, a long way up the tracks north and west of this particular haven. The shock had long receded, but profound sorrow, plastered over by optimism, remained. What he did know was, being with a big group of likeminded people for his entire life within which he held a position of high regard, The Great Bazhooli did not know how to be alone with much proficiency. He had hated being by himself. That little cat had no idea the amount of mental stability it lent him in what was probably the worst few weeks of his life. Day One in Newnan, a community that did not exist (so far as he was aware) when last he came through this area, and he was already given food, a basic but welcome place to stay, and was being introduced to some truly interesting people, one of whom was a member of the old Russian Ballet. Were it not for the fact that she was already spoken for, Bazhooli would have most certainly set his sights on the young lady's affections. Of course, here she was engaged. And more intriguing, the groom-to-be had just asked him to be the Best Man. Hadn't known the guy but for a few minutes, and he's Best Man material. He'd never been one before, not in the traditional sense. Oh yeah, today was a [i]very[/i] strange day. The Great Bazhooli regarded the man with the funny accent with some seriousness. It quickly cracked, replaced by a jolly, sideways glance and a voice colored with Happy. Stretching his arms wide in anticipation of an emotional moment, he spoke in a cheerful voice. [color=c0c0c0]"Da! Of [i]course[/i] I vill be Best Man! One day, I hope you do same for me, yes?"[/color] He pulled the man into a great, masculine hug, lifting his feet off of the ground and thumping his back several times. What the hell? Maybe he just found a new best friend. Even if not, it was a worthwhile undertaking. Of course, finding the proper tux might involve ninjaing about the rest of former Newnan, possibly dispatching both the living and the dead with munitions and knifepoint introductions, only to find out that the groom lost weight over the past few months and his sizes were no longer accurate. Why, oh why couldn't a proper tailor had survived? Part and parcel with living in the world today. Being the Best Man may have just been upgraded into a contact sport. [color=c0c0c0]"So many things to do, Mr. Jack! There's... da, and then there's..."[/color] whether he was actually verbalizing his thoughts on the matter, his brain was going through a multitude of organizational chores (that they likely wouldn't need), the acquisition of a proper tuxedo of course, and decent shoes (again, might not need, but it would be best to get anyway), and the biggest duty of all... [color=c0c0c0]"Bachelor Party. Da."[/color] The almost mischevious look on his expressive face said it all. Of course, The Great Bazhooli would need to get to know a lot of the people around here very quickly, in order to arrange what was needed. Several elements made up a good one. He was going to have to see what this lace offered, and what he had to exit the Walls to procure. [color=c0c0c0]"Bachelor Party."[/color] [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] Following Astrid [/center][hr][hr] Bridgette was going to follow that stoic bitch wherever she dared take them. Even if it was off with bikers, away from the only safe place they'd found in a great long while. Though not blood, she was a sister nonetheless. And it's not like Astrid had never tagged along for one of her rage and hate inspired forays into blood and violence. Sometimes, the tall lady was dead certain that her sister enjoyed it as much as she did. Maybe even a bit more, some of the time. What surprised her, however, was her treatment of Ash. She wasn't sure why she hadn't picked up on it before, but in the moment before she edged her Edgar from the gates, Bridgette believed that she was actually [i]flirting[/i] with the man. Not hardcore, but for someone who knew Astrid, it was a definitive change in her usual manner of treating people. Sounding in the back of her mind came the thought, [color=orangered][i]"Holy shit! Astrid's got the wet crotch for Walldick! This is news!"[/i][/color] Granted, she couldn't tell anybody. And she had to confirm first, before she went off half-cocked (which she had a tendency of doing exactly). But in the moment before they all took off toward wherever the hell they were going for their Mission of Mercy, Bridgette absolutely HAD to mess with Ash. And his new friend. A big grin hidden by a sultry expression on her face, Bridgette looked down from her horse to Ash, and in a clear, husky voice (for the benefit of Ash's company, naturally) said, [color=orangered]"Don't you worry, sweetie. Me and Astrid'll be back real soon to keep you warm. We'll wake you up later, hmm?"[/color] She licked her lips and gave a quick wink, implying more to the statement. Then she was off, ever the Warrior Woman, looking quite the part of her once notable title of "Shield Maiden of Fairburn". Her horse, Cadence, seemed thrilled to open up his speed like this. Depending upon need, he could be classified as either a Charger or as a Destrier. Cadence was a horse bred for war, a rare thing this day and age. But maybe it didn't have to be. It was a thought for another time; she had to make her charge to cover the remaining distance between Astrid and herself, settling into a gallop about a length behind her sister and off to the right. Bridgette looked over to her sister, catching the side of her face every so often, and a smile would come over her. They had a bit to talk about, after this emergency was over. [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] Main Gate -> Building [b]1[/b], Infirmary [/center][hr][hr] Ash was mortified. A little scared, even, though it didn't show on his face. There was a small glimmer in his eyes that seemed to threaten murder, mixed with some humor. But mostly murder. He didn't dare turn to his guest, Beni, until both Valkyries were out and the Gate had come to a close with all parties inside. Refusing to make comment on what everyone had just witnessed, [i]from both women[/i], Ash instead directed the conversation toward business. [color=steelblue]"I will show you to our medical facilities, sir. Introduce you to our Doctor, and let him take over the logistical end of our conversation. If you would please, this way."[/color]