[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c3/2a/d5/c32ad53279d627f66861cb579e4b3fb8.gif[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Headland: E. Main Street, D9 -> E8 (inside Hordebuster)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Leadership, Mechanic, Engineering, Advanced Driving [/center][hr][hr]

	A brief note of satisfaction rung in Ash's mind. Jack agreed with his assessment about the points for scavenging; houses first, Fire Department to wrap up. Further, he agreed with Jack that they should all hit the Fire Department together. It was a government building that held medical supplies and trained personnel. There was a decent likelihood that the place was used to care for the infected, and so there could be additional difficulties. Ash would feel a lot better if they could scrape up something to eat for everyone and hit the place at full strength. 

	Even the rain was welcome. Certain things would be more difficult, but if they were careful, they could use the rain to hide their scent from the Dead, not to mention muffle sounds they might make while rifling through the houses for supplies. And the obvious could not be ignored; clean, fresh water. As fickle as the rains could be in the American South, these were all things that they needed to move on. 

	Then Jack spoke again, and derailed his train of thought. A Nun. How unusual. 

	There were occasions when very few things could surprise Ash. Today was one such occasion. If a random chunk of space debris were to descend, snarling and flaming upon the Earth like a seventy-eight foot tall Shirley MacClaine, [i]then[/i] he make a facial expression approximating surprise. The occurrence of a woman wearing traditional apostolic habit and brandishing a sword was notable, without doubt, but it did little more than raise the eyebrow of the world weary survivor. [color=4682b4]"Sorry Jack, I was raised Methodist."[/color] He shrugged, putting the Hordebuster into gear. [color=4682b4]"Don't think she's here for me, either."[/color]

	[color=4682b4]"[i]...damnit...[/i]"[/color] he breathed. This could be a trap. He had things to do, and honestly did not want to be delayed by something like this, trap or no. Putting his own people at risk for another mouth to feed was not something he was especially keen on. But he couldn't just leave someone to die. [color=4682b4]"Alright. Let's go lend a hand."[/color] He began rolling the big truck down the road, considering his options. He could mow through the Dead no problem, but that would mean offing the Nun, too. [color=4682b4]"Riley & Amelia: when we get close I want you to hop out of the suicide door, there. Pick off the corpses between us and her. No bullets unless you have to. Jack: Need your strength here. Hold the door open back there and get ready to pull the three of them inside. I don't want to take any chances in this rain that we don't have to. I'll be here, covering with the Marlin lever-action in case any surprises hit."[/color] 

	As the Hordebuster came closer to the scene unfolding, Ash rolled down his window and slid open the metal grate covering it. [color=4682b4]"Quick but careful. Ready?"[/color] 


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=dc143c]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e4117d5f-65c8-4b8e-98df-5810a59267c5.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] Quincy: E9 (Front Porch) -> Inside House D10
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] Survival, Shield, Scavenging [hr][hr][/center]

	Sometimes she just didn't get Thana's tactics. The place looked abandoned, but being honest, [i]every[/i] place looked abandoned these days. She would have rather scouted the place out first. Observe for a bit. The weather seemed to have disagreed with her assessment, though. Getting into shelter was going to be the foremost piece of importance for them if they wanted to stay safe. Thalia understood that the elements dictated a speedy, lightly uncertain entrance. Why Thana insisted upon taking point when Thalia had the best defensive tool at their disposal, and was the only one trained in higher uses of it, was fully beyond her. Did she feel responsible for everyone? Was she to ever walk lead and take the first bullet? Was the decision based on guilt? It was a heavy burden to carry something like that, if it was the case. Thalia would have to have a talk with her later. 

	Just before they breached the house, Thalia couldn't help but overhear a comment about that name brand canned pasta. Again. From Beatrice. [i]Again[/i]. Whatever, they had more pressing issues right then. But it could not go unanswered. As Thalia braced to enter, she hid a big grin behind her shield and responded, [color=dc143c]"Oh, pagarás por los SpaghettiOs, puta."[/color][sub]1[/sub] But the moment that Thana entered the building, Thalia was all business. 

	She entered directly behind Thana, her shield leading the way. As soon as Thalia was given a direction, she made for it. To the right lay a short hallway. From the look of it, the hall was your standard "bed and bath" setup, hopefully without the "beyond" part to ruin their day. Before trying her luck with doors, step one was giving the hallway a good look, if only to allow herself a second to acclimate to the light conditions. 



[hider=Translations]
1	=	Oh, you'll pay for those SpaghettiOs, you bitch. 
[/hider]




[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=deb887]Hank Wright[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://www.screamhorrormag.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Stan-Against-Evil-e1529577006422-600x240.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=burlywood]Location:[/color][/b] Okefenokee: E14 
[b][color=deb887]Skills:[/color][/b] Club/Blunt Objects, Brawling, People Reading [hr][hr][/center]

	Hank sighed with his entire body. It was an involuntary motion brought about by total the understanding that, while technically in full control of his own actions, he felt obligated to get involved in things he would rather just leave the hell alone. [color=deb887]"Naw, there's where you're wrong there, Sport."[/color] he rasped out, unshouldering his shovel and stepping toward his friend Wayne, [color=deb887]"Looks like we [i]do[/i] have to fight them."[/color] He shook his head, maneuvering over the uneven ground next to the road. [color=deb887]"Yeah, you go ahead and pray. It's worked out so well for us so far. You know, maybe those bible-thumpers were right, and this whole Dead Asshole thing is God's punishment for taking prayer out of schools, ya think there, Sport?"[/color] 

	Palpable sarcasm aside, he did need to get to his traveling companion. It's not like he could just leave the guy to his own devices at a time like this. He could, technically, but one of two things might happen: 1)Wayne would die, either by getting gnawed to death by dead people or the subsequent fever that hit afterwards, or 2) He kills them all without so much as a skinned knee for himself, prompting an ugly conversation later about his not helping which makes Hank [i]wish[/i] that one or both of them got gnawed to death by dead people. Either way there was no winning this situation. Might as well push through it. 

	[color=deb887]"Third damn time this week..."[/color] muttered Hank as the fight commenced. [color=deb887]"Third damn time!"[/color] he said louder. [color=deb887]"Pull this shit again and you're doing it yourself. Hey, nice kick though."[/color] Hank hefted his shovel, taking a swing at the nearest mobile corpse to him. The uncertain footing of the Okefenokee caused his swing to go lower than he intended, catching his dead guy's arm and, while respectable of damage, did little to actually help his situation. While regaining his footing, the least he could do was similarly inconvenience his target, and so brought his backswing to bear on the creature's knees. It was still a danger, but at least Hank wasn't down in the mud. If this kept getting inconvenient he might have to waste bullets. And nobody wanted that.