[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][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Agriculture: Storage (West Side between Inner and Outer Wall) [/center][hr][hr]

	That voice. That voice was killing him inside. He had once trusted Alicia with his life. While she wasn't military in the strictest sense, the woman was trained by some of the most dangerous people he had ever personally heard of. He would have chosen her for a BlackOp over many seasoned combat veterans. If she had a weakness, it was that she was impulsive. Well, that and dead. So dead, in fact, that the voice in his head was either a haunting or a hallucination. While Cap'n Ash most certainly believed in corpses getting up and shambling about with an insatiable hunger for the living, it would take a little more convincing before he fully believed in ghosts. 

	So again, he was visited by the realization that this nagging, underlying distrust of the situation came from somewhere inside of him. This woman, Thana, did indeed hold a bit of sway with his emotions, what few he allowed to rise to the surface. There was a tense moment when that Texan professed his love to her, and it did feel like a chilled smack to his nethers. Thinking about it logically, unless that scene was planned purely for the sake of drama, it made zero sense. Such an act established a preexisting relationship between Gavin and Thana, and served to sow distance and possible mistrust between herself and Ash. No, unless this was a well orchestrated series of point and counterpoint, he doubted that this was a setup. 

	Plus, so much as the thought of harm coming to James galled him, he [i]was[/i] exiled. There was nothing he could do, or should do for him, by his own decree. And he knew the direction they were traveling. If a horrible plot was afoot to kill James and take his collection of fine overalls, he would likely want to wait until they got access to the cache of supplies a mile or two to the south. Then Tex would have to deal with three very angsty and armed survivors. They really were survivors, too. Each one in their own way, with their own methods; one still spattered with flecks of blood from the man he'd just murdered. 

	Thana wanted to take a trip outside of the walls? No problem. Hell, it might actually do him some good, anyway. A little quiet time with his lady, a sort of a post-apocalyptic date. 

	[color=steelblue][i]It is not a logical assumption that this is a trap, Captain. Even if so, your death will not signal the end of Newnan. You control the location, you control the details. Bring insurance from outside threats.[/i][/color]

	Naturally, the voice of one of his greatest confidants and closest companions was spewing doubt, while the emotionless, narcissistic expression of self was a welcome experience. Life was really strange sometimes. And maybe, just maybe, Thana had a good point. Ash sighed, giving her a quiet smile. She was quite an affectionate woman in private, a vast contrast to the icy exterior she showed around others. His lips were still warm with her kiss as he slowly responded, [color=steelblue]"You know, there was a place I had been meaning to scout. Determine feasibility for sending in a supply team. It's about six miles out and I've been looking for an excuse to drive my 'Buster farther than the outer wall."[/color] 

	He nodded in the general direction of his house (well, [i]their[/i] house, unless she chose other accommodation), [color=steelblue]"Yeah. Lets gear up. You need a gun?"[/color] Ash moved toward the door and held it open for Thana to exit unhindered. 



[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e7de846f-30f3-4613-933c-40dce7104529.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e4117d5f-65c8-4b8e-98df-5810a59267c5.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=dc143c][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Meet - IN A TANK[/center][hr][hr]

	Thalia had to admit, for his faults, Alexander was making a solid attempt to diffuse a tense situation with humor and otherwise stay out of the way. She might have given this credit aloud if she didn't find the whole attempt annoying as hell, but it was something. Silence remained the more sincere compliment she was willing to give at the moment, despite the fact that the guy had basically volunteered to come along on what might turn into a firefight. 

	Even Lola, for [i]her[/i] faults, had proven to be a selfless friend despite her suggestive conversation and general tit-busting. She required no prompting to make this meet, not even a request was necessary. That was the thing that needed to be done to make Thalia's life easier, and she just jumped to it. Lola had earned her loyalty, period. Thalia even imagined that she would act the same way without the benefits that her tank provided her, though those were hefty benefits.

	As they pulled up to the scene in question, Thalia examined their surroundings through the turret's optics. The place was mostly open ground, but there were dense trees nearby that could conceal additional manpower or hide a determined rifleman, ditto the abandoned Water Treatment Plant that loomed back from the side of the road. The roads looked clear, too, except for the large, black truck dominating the center of one of the joining roads across from them. She didn't like it too much. Lots of potential for someone with time to set the scene. The tank was formidable, enough so to scare off a number of human threats and enough to protect from all but the most massive of firepower. Just as soon as they left it, all bets were off. Truth be told, she'd rather be among them than across a distance. She was [i]so[/i] much better up close, and proximity to the opposition (if indeed they proved themselves to be opposition) limited the effectiveness of ranged attack. She just needed to close the distance with something sharp. Calmly. Strategically. Carefully. Then Lola happened. 

	[color=dc143c]"Alright guys, sit tight, I've got thi... the [i]fuck[/i], Lola?"[/color] Thalia's briefing was waylaid by the overly impulsive Kiwi's simultaneous eruption from the safety of the driver's seat. Knowing Lola, she should have prepared for this. Anything less was stupidity on her part. Unless Thalia was busy knocking on the back of her friend's helmet while she was tied to her seat, coupled with Thalia screaming her intentions in a blaring Cockney accent through a megaphone [i]directly into her ear[/i], the unapologetic Sergeant L. R. Holler was going to do her thing, concerns for her safety be damned. Even then, it would have been some form of good-natured dismissal, only delaying her by a second or two. Like her tank, she was just going to keep moving forward. 

	It was too far of a walk. They were exposed to fire for an unsurvivable amount of time, having to walk all that way to meet these people. [color=dc143c]"Damnit, girl..."[/color] she growled, grabbing her satphone and shoving open the turret hatch. It was [i]just like her[/i] to take point and try to catch the first bullet of the season. No, no. Without her, they were caught in that big, steel can for an indeterminate time until they starved to death or someone saw fit to stack logs around them and roast them alive. If they proved hostile, anyway. Sure, Thalia had seen the basic controls that Lola used to get the thing rolling, but the odds were clearly in favor of her driving the machine into a ditch. Or a lake. Or off a cliff. 

	Thalia climbed out of the tank and left the hatch open, in case she needed a fast re-entry. For the sake of speed and appearance, she left her primitive spear behind. If a melee was really warranted, the handle of her machete was visible from beneath the back of her jacket. Rather than admonish Lola for dangerously impulsive behavior (like she really wanted to), Thalia instead shot her a concerned, "What the Hell" look. Solidarity within the group must be maintained with initial contact of new people. To do otherwise implied weakness that might be exploited. She held one hand open and to her side, the other with her phone held out and in plain view.

	After a scan of their surroundings to make sure there were no Zeds in the immediate area, Thalia began walking toward the truck, arms still outstretched. 




[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] The Meet (Three-way intersection near the Hershall Norred Water Plant) [/center][hr][hr]

	The Apocalypse had led James to see many things he figured a sane person would never actually speak about out loud. Yet somehow, the low rumbling and machinery sounds of an approaching TANK was one of the more memorable things he figured he would experience in this day and age, ranking right up there with the first time he saw Ash's Hordebuster perform its namesake action, mowing through a sea of walking corpses. ([i]That[/i] was art.) 

	Then he could see it, cresting the line of trees around the last curve of road before the intersection. It was a goddamned [i]tank[/i]. No two ways about it. It was pretty unmistakable. Ryan's interjection and simultaneous JAWS reference did not go unnoticed. If things turned ugly, they would indeed need a bigger gun. James looked down to his Barrett M107. It was a formidable piece of hardware, but he stood highly unsure that even that miracle of military hardware would be enough. James returned his eyes to the massive piece of armor ambling up the road toward them, mouth agape. [color=firebrick]"Ain't meanin' to play up a stereotype, Irish, but [i]Good Googly Moogly[/i]."[/color] Then the tank's main cannon waved at them, as if in greeting. [color=firebrick]"Yeah, we gonna need a bigger gun."[/color] The sudden whack-a-mole style pop up and subsequent greeting of its driver didn't help settle his nerves much, either.

	Then a dark-haired young lady seemed to fling herself from the tank and take point, arms to her sides. If his vision wasn't dimming with his approaching middle years, James could have sword that she was holding a piece of personal electronics. Probably the satellite phone that she had called from earlier. It would serve as proof that these were the people they had come to meet. James slung his rifle over his shoulder and picked up his own satellite phone. Looking back to his companions, he said flatly, [color=firebrick]"Might as well get this done. I'll be just over there.'[/color] he motioned to the middle of the intersection a few meters away. The fact that they decided to park the tank a football field away from the meeting place was their concern, not his. And James wasn't about to do something stupid like ruin Gavin's line of sight. [color=firebrick]"Y'all wanna stay with the truck, fine. I'll be in hearin' distance. Tex got us covered."[/color] He could not account for the presence of the tank and who might still be inside, finger on the trigger of the cannon that might rain fire upon them at any moment. Perhaps that was the reason they stayed so far back. 

	While James would have been more comfortable with their vehicle being closer to the intersection, he could only assume that they would likewise have their own reservations about the upcoming Meet & Greet. Nonetheless, James stepped forward, directly into the center of the blacktop where the three roads converged, waiting for them to complete their approach.