[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]

	So, this was to be his first big "proving yourself" moment, if that guy in charge ever came back by to give him a hopeful thumbs-up, or a regretful thumbs-down. Naturally, there would have to be more mundane tasks to earn his keep, but stringing together a Bachelor Party in the middle of the apocalypse would be like the world's awesomest scavenger hunt. Of course, instead of finding several everyday items, The Great Bazhooli would have a list of nigh impossible tasks to perform, such as locating a tuxedo, suitable alcohol, yummy tidbits of things (leeway there would be required), music possibly, and [i]how the hell do you scavenge a stripper[/i]? 

	Oh yes. This would be a great project to work on. Now, all The Great Bazhooli had to do was fully figure out what the Groom-To-Be was saying. His accent had a hair of local charm, not unlike his own. [color=c0c0c0]"Walkah..? Ah, the Returned. Dead people on legs. No no, ve not get. Maybe there is someone here, vould not mind? Lot of pretty girls, Newnan. Saw blonde, tall. Vears metal? Vould need thing for trade, I think. Ah, vill come to me. Meantime, I varm up! Have not juggled pins in vhile."[/color] 

	The cheerful performer started out slow, a simple three. Just to warm up. Just to get a feel for them. After a little bit, he called out, [color=c0c0c0]"Hey! Someone toss me four and five, yes?"[/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]

	It felt good to get Cadence out in the open, riding fast and free in the soft light of the day. Granted, the last time around, she wasn't afflicted with the sound of motorcycles roaring down the highway, nor the sight of them in front of her. She would have preferred to lead the way herself. Seeing as Bridgette had no idea where they were going, aside from [i]west[/i] at any rate, she supposed that she would abide the fuel exhaust and incessant motorized farting sound that was unavoidable when dealing with those machines. 

	Not that Bridgette really had anything against bikes. Hell, they looked kind of fun. Not to mention that she had fond memories of the Jousting team at one of her old blacksmithing gigs getting piss drunk and running the lists on Harleys. Some guy she was seeing (if you can really call the nature of their relationship "seeing", or even "relationship", for that matter) wound up breaking an arm, not to mention denting up a fair portion of her more artistic armorcraft in the process. You see, a horse has the sense to try to keep its balance on its own. A motorcycle does not. Maybe if they had used [url=http://originalbigwheel.us/images/SpinoutRacer500.jpg]Big Wheels[/url] instead of actual bikes, Bridgette's armor wouldn't have gotten dinged up, and the poor bastard wouldn't have been urinated upon as he slept later that evening. Perhaps if they had used trikes...

	But those thoughts were immaterial to their present situation, amusing as they might be. Astrid and herself were surrounded by strangers who seemed polite enough, despite occasionally staring at her. Maybe it was her haircut. She tended to braid, and shaved the sides. Not exactly usual, though the concept of usual could be argued at length, anymore. Of course, it just might be the fact that she and Astrid looked like they stepped out of a Made For TV Movie about the life of Lief Eriksson, running around in the worst global disaster ever to befall mankind since that Bieber kid recorded "Baby Baby Baby Ooh". 

	Bridgette's irritation ebbed for the most part, replaced by caution as Astrid called the low hanging peoplefruit to her attention. She didn't recall hearing anything about Newnan putting hunting traps out in the surrounding woods, and sure as hell didn't recall any groups tasked with checking or collecting from them. Leaving traps out unattended for any length of time was foolish these days; the Biters would make short work of anything left out there for long. If this was an honest attempt for someone to gather food for themselves, they were foolish, desperate, or very nearby. Or maybe this Eden group fucking with them. Something didn't seem right with this scenario. The warrior woman found herself readying for a fight; helm and shield, spear and sawed-off in their usual, pre-bloodshed hands. 

	Her caution called for a touch of privacy, indicated by a change of language. Her loyalty was with her battle-sister, so much more than the people with whom they traveled. [color=orangered]"Felle for alle, eller bare for oss, Astrid?"[/color][sub]1[/sub] But there was a flaw in that logic. Astrid had volunteered to return with them, and Bridgette had decided to follow at the last second. [color=orangered]"Jeg liker det ikke. La oss gjøre dette raskt og kom deg ut herfra.[/color][sub]2[/sub]

	Bridgette remained on her horse, slowly moving toward the swinging form. She eyed the situation as carefully as possible, noting the trees and other plant life deeper in. Not too close and not too far, she decided to embrace the twin virtues of Diplomacy and Tact. Speaking to the human pinata, she opened with, [color=orangered]"Is this some yoga bullshit, or do you need help? You need to answer quick."[/color]

[hider=Translations]
1	=	A trap for anyone, or just for us, Astrid?.
2	=	I don't like it. Let's do this fast and get the fuck outta here. 
[/hider]

[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]

	[color=steelblue]"Right this way, sir."[/color] monotoned Ash, leading Beni and armed escort back up the main thoroughfare, and into the Inner Wall. From there, it was very almost a straight shot to the Main Building, wherein resided the heart of Newnan, including the Infirmary and their very own Doc Froggy. 

	But before they got there, Ash felt compelled to respond to Beni's observations of their resident Medic and Metalworker. Metalworker, because "Pain In The Ass" wasn't an official job title in the Newnan Community Charter. [color=steelblue]"Different and interesting. That is a very diplomatic way of putting it, Mr... Um, Beni."[/color] It was in that time that Ash realized he hadn't gotten a full name back from this man. If this was merely a temporary meeting, perhaps official last names weren't quite as important as they would be otherwise. Brave new world, and whatnot. Stumbling over it might very well be the opportunity for the man to extend the courtesy of his full name, but it was not imperative. Right now, they could help each other, and that seemed like enough. Any new meeting that didn't turn into bloodshed, point of fact, seemed like enough. Putting the thought aside, he continued his thought. [color=steelblue]"They walk a different path. Probably the nicest way to put it. But they are very good at what they do, make no mistake. I honestly don't think the Apocalypse made them any stronger; it just gave them a bigger role to fill."[/color] 

	Ash noticed the familiar face of James Grady exiting the Courthouse, pushing a wheelchair in front of himself. Closer examination showed a green, college ruled notebook in the seat, sitting top a second. As he was on official business, Ash kept conversation light. [color=steelblue]"Mr. Grady."[/color] he extended as a basic greeting. [color=steelblue]"That for Zoie?"[/color]

	[color=firebrick]"Oh yessir, Cap'n. Yes it is. Ceptin' them notebooks, Boss. I'm wanting to do what you done, writin' stuff down?"[/color] While not a question, James' intonation was that of one. The intent was to inquire as to whether he understood the scope of his statement. Ash certainly did. 

	Not too horribly long go, after much death in the community of Newnan, including his very much loved Alicia and potential Father-In-Law, Caesar, not to mention his Commanding Officer, Ashton began to question mortality very seriously. To ensure a smoother transition if his time came soon, he wrote down the entirety of his knowledge about distilling various products and supporting knowledges (as it could be argued that Newnan ran on alcohol), and his plans for the various civil engineering projects that were completed, underway, planned, or merely brainstormed for the future of the people under his care and command. The last thing was a Will. In the very dark place Ash had found himself, death almost seemed like a sweet release. But he still wanted to make sure his people would be okay. James didn't want to bring it up directly. 

	Darker thoughts aside, it wasn't a bad idea. Pragmatic, even. Building a library of useful skills, written down and learnable by any interested in reading it, was one of the first really good steps in securing their future. James was an Agriculturalist, among other things. He started their crop and livestock projects. His specific knowledge on the present and future food needs of Newnan was invaluable. Not to mention the tasty goodness he put together every so often, as the situation allowed for it. If he had a heart attack from too much of his homemade bacon, someone would have to be there to continue the work. Right then, no one else was remotely as qualified in their group. 

	[color=steelblue]"Good idea. Keep looking after our girl, as long as she lets you."[/color] 

	[color=firebrick]"Aight, Cap'n. Best believe I'm on that."[/color] Not being a military man, James didn't salute as many might have in Newnan, instead giving a warm smile to the man, and a quick nod at their guest, Beni, before going on his merry way. 

	Within the next minute or so, Ash, Beni, and their escort found their way into the Infirmary proper. Introductions were in order. [color=steelblue]"Beni, this is our Medical Lead, Dr. Victor Bonheur. Doc, this is Beni, the man you have been hearing about on your radio. He has a recent amputee inbound with Astrid, maybe more soon that requires an experienced hand. Meantime, there is a little horse trading to be done. He's got meds we might find useful. Epinephrine, Captopril..."[/color] On that last medication, Ashton locked eyes with their Doctor. He squinted ever so slightly, giving Froggy the smallest of nods. Not that he would have known what the meds did unless it was explained to him by Astrid, but now that he did know, he sure as hell wanted Froggy to acquire it for himself. Hopefully, the serious but minimalist expression (outside of Beni's direct field of vision) would be noted and accounted for in their discussion.