[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=steelblue]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0d55b471-c5e5-4224-a6dd-f93f52f38ebd.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Northern Parking Lot of Building [b]4[/b] (Repair Shop) -> Building A (Ash's House)
[/center][hr][hr]

	Still holding James's woodaxe, Ash crouched low to the ground. His eyes seemed transfixed on the blood and specks of grey matter slowly dripping from the tough hewing blade of the tool, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Maybe he should have shot James. Killing him would bring everything full circle and end any direct reprisals. But that wasn't who he was. Yes, it was a stretch of the rules here. Also yes, it might be considered favoritism. There was really no getting away from that, and it would make living in Newnan with him as the central authority harder; he didn't expect everyone would understand why he made the decision he did. Others might be sorely tempted to try something unpleasant or insubordinate, sarcastically throwing this incident in his face as to why it doesn't matter whatever they did, call him a hypocrite or claim he's being unfair. Examples might have to be made.

	Perhaps that guy Ryan was right. Ash's compassion - what was left of it - was his weakness. He wasn't ready to completely give it up yet, though. 

	Despite appearing mentally closed off from his surroundings, Ash clearly heard the conversation between Thana and Gavin. He could feel heat rise in his face. The previous evening held meaning for him, more than anyone really knew. Not even Thana. To hear public conversation about this very recent arrival not only having a serious romantic history with her, plus carrying a torch for her all this time? Love was mentioned. Leaving. Waiting. Returning. Ash wished that he could have been insulated from the world as he appeared to be, but duty to the town and his people kept him acutely aware of every nuance and detail around him. Even so, he continued to crouch, regarding that woodaxe with apparent interest. 

	The time came when he refused to stay there any longer, listening to the tall Texan gush about his feelings for Thana. And why shouldn't he? If he kept hope for her survival against all odds and finally found her, who the hell was he to get in the way? An honorable man, he reckoned, would have backed out. If it weren't for Thana stressing certain syllables in otherwise innocuous conversation, hinting that she had chosen him as much as he had chosen her, he very well may have. But that was before Gavin's Big Reveal. Ash's rural Virginian upbringing demanded satisfactory response to this situation on his part, or a declaration of intent on Thana's. Either way, you can't [i]make[/i] someone want to be with you. James was partly right. This indeed was a real sackslap. He just missed the timing of primary sackslappage by a couple of minutes. Not to mention the source. 

	Ash carefully placed the head of the axe in the steadily growing puddle of slush and shook it about, dislodging the vast majority of the gore from the item, and rose fully to his feet. He walked briskly to his home, just up the road a piece, axe in hand. At the moment, he just wanted to get behind private doors before his steadfast adhesion to the Stoic Arts was tested beyond his capacity to remain calm in that moment. He did not stop, did not address people whose paths he may have crossed on the way. Ash continued until he walked up his steps and reached his front door. There, he was forced to stop. Thana still had the key. 

	He looked down at James's axe, debating using it to smash open the door. After a tense moment, Ash let out a growl of frustration. It built wordlessly into a sustained, primal yell, and he flung the axe upon the smooth, fitted planks of his deck. It hit the wooden surface with a hollow clatter and slid a couple of feet away, coming to rest nearby. [color=steelblue][i]"Goddamnit..." [/i][/color] he half-shouted through clenched teeth. He had a feeling of very specific helplessness; there were things he could do to change the outcome of everything that was going on. He didn't like any of this. But to do so, to change anything to make himself feel better would mark him as the most despicable sort of tyrant. And make the situation so much worse for everyone else. No, he was fair, or at least tried to be. 

	Instead, he slumped down into a chair on his front porch, head in hands. As an afterthought, he removed James's 9mm pistol from the back of his belt and lay it on the small deck table near him. Quiet tears, few in number, spilled from his eyes, a mark of utter frustration more than anything else, though Ash could tell you that a lot more was in there. He quickly wiped them away and fell into a solid brood. It was said that in Newnan, no one could brood like Ash, not even the most surly of lone wolf types in the present Apocalypse. It is a thing that, if he could somehow harness the power of Brooding, he might be unstoppable. 

	Right then, for the good of the community, Ash had to keep it together until he could get behind a door and into an interior room. 




[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][color=firebrick]Location:[/color][/b] Building [b]C[/b] (James's House)[/center][hr][hr]

	Looking around his house, James was a little depressed to notice that there was very little he could actually take from this place. During his time in Newnan, he had amassed a respectable amount of stuff, but very little of it would be of use to him out in the world as it was. No matter how many Singing Billy Bass wall hangers he might have collected, nor the impressive number of different bottles of domestic hot sauce, none of this was going to actually help. So far as he was aware, James was going to have to start completely over, and to do so, he had to get back into his mindset of Roving Hog Hunter. There were a few sounders that might be around this area, or might be in a couple of weeks as the weather warms. He could take minimal supplies and attempt to set up a redneck, semi-rural homestead on the temporary. But it really couldn't be anywhere very close; Newnan had done a respectable job scavenging for supplies in the area. Though, there were a few places they hadn't gone yet... But that was not a "now" problem. 

	Nope, James needed to get the basics, equip himself as he was when he entered Newnan, what seemed like a lifetime ago. From here, he could probably get a couple changes of clothes and boots, his best hunting knife, and possibly a blanket or sleeping bag. He was sorely tempted to just grab his bug-out bag, the one that was assigned to him when he took up residence, but that might be an overstep. He was give time to assemble his own supplies; someone else might need it someday. If the Powers That Be here decided to gift him one, great. Considering he was supposed to be dead right now, James was most assuredly [i]not[/i] in a favor-asking mood. 

	He did grab his bow, a finely crafted item with a lifetime of service left to it, and a full sheaf of arrows. It was an invaluable tool to him, out in the world. As much as his knife and actually more useful than his rifle for quick and quiet food acquisition. Anyhow, a few sundries down, and he looked to his armed escort, saying, [color=firebrick]"Aight man. Gotta hit Agriculture. Important shit o'there."[/color]