[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/c6f0f86d13839f8542e4b754c251da73/tumblr_ojog8uNf9k1qdhps7o1_r1_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Headland: E. Main Street, E8 (outside of the Hordebuster)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] EMT Training [/center][hr][hr]

	Were the world still mostly alive and functional, with concepts like "medical insurance" still a thing, it could be said that Ashton J. Holloway had lost faith in his primary care provider. Of course, this being an Apocalypse, you took what you could get. With the exception of the sudden, incredible idea to jam a finger into a fresh bullet wound, he could tell that Amelia was trying. But damn, did that hurt. Instead, he dipped into his own knowledge of emergency medical procedure. It was a lesser known fact that Ash had taken training with Newnan's very own medical professional, Dr. Victor Bonheur, following the older man's onset of heart trouble. There were others, but he was the only one left alive after... everything. Ash was not anywhere near the level of the man's professional bearing, but he knew how to handle himself and others with greater skill than basic first aid procedure. 

	Being as the concept of "Physician, heal thyself" didn't really mean what most people thought it meant, it was good sense to have someone else see to his injuries. Or it should have been. At the moment, the searing discomfort of a chunk of foreign metal lodged in his anatomy limited his ability to think. But he did understand a couple of concepts. One of which being that crawling back into the Hordebuster, while awfully tempting, might not be the best idea considering the approaching weather. Were it running, he might very well park it beneath an overpass and be done with it, but out in the open it was susceptible to whatever the storm wanted to throw at them. Like trees. Or cars. Or dead people. Though built to withstand the attention of the Dead, an errant tree was something else entirely. 

	Ash did note the change of treatment from Amelia. He nodded his approval. [color=4682b4]"Good. Thanks. You're right, we need to get to shelter. I'm not dying right this second."[/color] He was unable to clearly hear anything going on over by the cars with Tatiana, Jack, and the Nun, and so made his observations about potential shelter without their input. [color=4682b4]"Middle school... school is a solid building. We used to use my old school as a storm shelter back home."[/color] His voice was obviously strained. That tended to happen after one got shot. [color=4682b4]"Lot of space to clear, especially with an injured man and... and a baby."[/color] The thought gave him some joy. Nodding back in the other direction, he continued, [color=4682b4]"Fire station. Smaller building, solid walls. It might have medical supplies. Hell, it might have a lounge and bunk area."[/color] 

	[color=4682b4]"Amelia, thanks. I can hold pressure. Give a hand up, actually. Then would you please grab my bag and stuff from inside the 'Buster? I'd really like to say hi to Tatiana and get the hell out of here."[/color] Gruff in delivery, but aside from the unwanted finger insertion he was grateful for Amelia's assistance. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=dc143c]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/45/47/324547e3b7817ea71d71e719e871d78d.gif[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] Quincy (in house, C9)
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	She wasn't one hundred percent certain who had said it, but the topic of medication for the pain was brought up and she was, at the moment, all for it. Briefly, she considered the concept of phantom pain, only to dismiss it outright (at least for the moment) because the [i]actual[/i] pain was significantly more pressing. Something about having a forearm taken in half with a circular saw would do that to someone. Thalia was not really someone who took to drugs readily, except for maybe a decent drink every now and again. Something about it this time was particularly enticing. [color=dc143c]"Hell yeah, I would like something for the pain. Fucking mallet would be nice. Pills'll do."[/color] 

	Then she heard the voice of Beatrice nearby, and tried to give a quick smile. She had mentioned something. Oh yes, something close at hand to many topics over the past year. But the half-second of mirth passed. She glanced down at her fresh stump, and shook her head. [color=dc143c]"Bea, this bullshit isn't stopping because of..."[/color] she moved her shortened arm a bit for emphasis, [color=dc143c]"...this. I could eat. What else do we have? I'm not taking any damn [i]Sympathy O-s[/i]."[/color] Thalia rolled over to her side and pushed herself to a sitting position with her good arm. If she was going to eat, she might as well be more or less upright for it. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=deb887]Hank Wright[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://media1.giphy.com/media/l2JhAOu0Dz8wsVsS4/giphy.gif?cid=3640f6095bcbd1b677374f762e0b5dda[/img][hr][b][color=burlywood]Location:[/color][/b] Okefenokee: C10 -> C9
[b][color=deb887]Skills:[/color][/b] Survival, People Reading [hr][hr][/center]

	Wayne's callous desire to apparently throw his life away was a draining influence on Hank that day. Unlike other days, there were now other people around that might get themselves killed because of this bravado. Granted, he understood on some base level why he did what he did, and in the manner that he did it. It made little difference if people died as a result, even if his intent was to put himself between the danger and everyone else. And even less if Hank himself went down with him. But he was a loyal friend. Had been for years now. Perhaps it was best if they were alone. Then discretion might be a concept that he could discuss with Wayne during one of his more lucid moments. 

	Coming up on the young woman, Hank regarded her with observant eyes. She seemed okay. Well, okay-ish. Truthfully, all he could say was that she probably didn't intend to do anything awful to tham immediately. [color=deb887]"You really should have slapped him. Really. I would have slapped him. Hey, there's still time to, ya know. Slap him, I mean."[/color] He was repeating himself. He did that sometimes. 

	Sadly, nothing in his immediate environment seemed to be of use to him or his cause of making sure that Wayne didn't die just then, so it was sally forth, shovel at the ready, and try to help his friend out of trouble that they really could have avoided by stepping into the treeline and waiting. But that just wasn't how things worked. And what the hell, he didn't have a whole lot left to live for, anyway. Shaking his head in the manner of a guy who simply accepted what lay before him, if not fully agreeing with it, he resolved to follow Wayne toward the cluster of rotting Assholes before them.