[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]1[/b], Infirmary
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	Ash drew himself up straight at Niesha's entrance. True, she was summoned by the Doctor, but that didn't erase the drama that occurred the last time those two shared the room in which they all now stood. Obviously, this fit the bill perfectly for extenuating circumstances. Now, they had company. And were about to receive medical emergencies in the next half hour to hour. But to begin, introductions were called for. 

	[color=steelblue]"Beni, this is Niesha. She handles quite a bit of our pharma fabrication. Niesha, this is Beni. He's the frontman for another group nearby. We will be taking in some people in need of medical attention, one with an unresolved amputation. Our medic is on scene presently, but Froggy needs someone assisting here, setting up for their arrival. That's [i]assisting[/i], ma'am."[/color] Ash gave her a knowing look, turning to ensure that Beni couldn't see the nonverbal exchange. He wasn't present for the noise that followed her arrival; his priorities that day took him elsewhere in Newnan. But he got reports later. Staff meetings with the Doc that showed bias, but brought up issues. 

	He continued quietly, [color=steelblue]"This is an opportunity, Niesha. You know the meds here and where they're stored. I know you'll do a good job. Make things easier for the Doc."[/color] Ash took a step back, nodding to Beni and Froggy. [color=steelblue]"We're good to get started. Prepare to receive casualties."[/color]

[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)
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	[color=c0c0c0]"Da, stars, Mr. Jack. No one is star by self. Takes people, yes?"[/color] Bazhooli was half talking, half shouting as he continued juggling three bowling pins in rapid rotation. [color=c0c0c0]"Little Tatiana is right - you have happy aura vith you. And funny accent. I do not judge; makes you memorable. Memorable is good. Just make with the right talk, you vill be perfect."[/color] 

	The Great Bazhooli gave two quick whistles to gain Tatiana's attention, and bobbed his head backward twice to indicate that he was ready for another pin. He then continued to address Jack. [color=c0c0c0]"Vork vith vhat you know, nice and loud. Here, now. Simple stuff, da? [i]Ladies, Gentlemen, presenting blah blah blah[/i] and [i]Direct from Mother Russia/St. Petersburg, performing Apocalypse Vorld Tour, blah[/i]. More corn & cheese, better - not take for serious. Make laugh with vords. Charm audience. Try it here, loud. Put us in better showman moods. Handle details later."[/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] (outside of) Heard County High School, Franklin
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	Bridgette was aware, if only in her periphery, that her use of the girl's proper name gave her some measure of discomfort. Granted, the attention of the tall, moderately vulgar woman was trained mainly on the happenings farther down, involving the truck and (hopefully soon) the injured guy being moved into it. Nevertheless, her less sophisticated, brasher leanings seemed to have hit a nerve with the low-hanging fruit she acquired just earlier. Ordinarily not the type to overly give a rat's hindquarters about hurting people's feelings, she reserved the brunt of her rough, sandpapery dialogue for those more familiar with her. People who knew she was a hardass. People like Astrid, Ash, Bryn, Zoie; half the people back in Newnan. 

	There wasn't worry of leaving a good impression, not in the least. She just didn't want the woman to break down and cry. At least not until they were better acquainted. People got odd psychological complexes because of stuff like that. For all she knew, deep down inside, this Trillium chick was just as rough and sarcastic as she was. But pushing it right at that moment wasn't the right decision. It wasn't her fault that her parents decided to make her life difficult, intentionally, from birth. Hell, that was a name that promoted violence. Ok, time to make this right. 

	Bridgette exhaled quickly and quietly, trying to shunt the baser aspects of her personality to the side. She put on a smile, an actually warm one, and turned around to give encouragement to her new acquaintance. The sight she turned back around to witness ended that. Quickly. 

	[color=orangered]"Hey, cheer up, Tryke. It's not your fault that [i][b]SWEET ODIN'S NUTSACK![/b][/i]"[/color] Any previous thoughts were dashed aside by the impromptu scene from Terminator II she walked into halfway through. [color=orangered]"Holy shit, guy! You got feeling in that thing? I bet you give yourself one hell of a "Stranger", huh? Hey! Hey! Do they make those for women? You know, buzzzzzzzzzz knowwhatImean? Something with a clutch and three speeds? Slow, Medium, and Who Needs A Man?"[/color] 

	While certainly very interested in the goings on of the previously very uninteresting Marx, Bridgette wasn't shirking her duties elsewhere. But damn, that was something new.