[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/5625b0e2-eb6d-4da8-b64e-f8426bbd176f.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Quarantine (Conference Room)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	A prayer. It wasn't something that Ash had done himself in a while. He still had a portion of his faith from back before, though to be honest it had taken a hell of a beating in recent years. Some habits were hard to shake. For him, one of them was being a Methodist. It was hard not to, growing up in small-town Virginia. Not the type to slip into agnosticism when things got rough, even an apocalypse, Ash still believed. He had just been very quiet about it, both to and about God. All the same, he couldn't bring himself to do much more than silently acknowledge Alexander with a slight nod and a raise of his coffee cup. Maybe God was listening and maybe He wasn't. Ash just didn't know anymore. He wasn't about to fault the man, though. Even if he [i]was[/i] Catholic. Let every man and woman find divinity on their own path.  

	The mildest of conversation was had with Moralez consisted of, from his end, [color=4682b4]"One thing I always miss when it's gone, coffee."[/color] Ash did have a fondness for caffeine, and coffee was one of his favorite methods of getting it into his bloodstream. He took a sip and regarded the last time he had a casual cup of the bitter black goodness. Then he attempted to forget immediately. It was the last time that he saw Thana, the last day that Newnan existed, the day that most of the people he knew or cared about were lost or killed. He didn't want to think about that right then. It would serve to muddle his wits in a new situation, which neither he nor the people for whom he was responsible needed. Instead, Ash concentrated on how lucky he was to have access to coffee again, and that these people were hospitable enough to feed his Newnan survivors. 

	Doc returned and wackiness ensued. It was practically set up, based upon overheard conversation from earlier. An old argument, else it was something set up for the entertainment of those in the room. Though he expected it was genuine, given the sudden flare of the situation and the ease with which it was diffused. Not unlike members of a family fighting. Two thoughts reached Ash with that exchange - firstly, with Mae and Moralez leaving the meal would be mostly unattended, and secondly, those pulled aside from the rest of the group should be returning at the present. 

	Ash took up a position near the table of goodies, sipping his coffee, ready to wave over the rest of his group. Somehow, he didn't think that they would have any problems finding it. On the other hand, as much as he wanted to wait until the rest of the Newanites got something before he partook himself, he didn't want to wait for any longer than he had to. The coffee seemed to aggravate his desire to fill his belly more than it did stave off hunger. Or it could just be the sight and smell of home cooking that overpowered the caffeine. Ash held up a hand as the now bald survivors rejoined them all, indicating the yumminess that was laid out for them. 

	He made it a point not to mention [i]anything[/i] about their hair. There would be time for that after they adjusted some. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=dc143c]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8b4600e1-6763-448c-9e7e-43fde2400cdd.gif[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] Quarantine (Conference Room)
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	The fact that soup was involved was the only reason that Thalia bothered using flatware at all. It was an interesting thing to behold; not a lack of manners specifically, though that was most certainly present, but a feeling of devolution. The young woman vaguely resembled a wolf with one paw gnawed away, piercing hazel eyes taking in the details of the room around her even as she systematically obliterated that which she had put upon her plate. She had found a defensible place along a wall, away from the others who had the sense and ingrained social desire to utilize things like "tables" and "chairs", and around other people, no less. 

	When the initial edge of her hunger (that she didn't really feel until she knew she was getting food) had abated, Thalia risked a more detailed look at everyone around her. There were painfully few people that she actually trusted there. Beatrice certainly, the two older men in her group as well, Alexander and Manny, and she had intended on finding out more about that Ash guy and the people who were with him. So many things unanswered. Just then, however, she had a plate full of food and every man, woman, and child in the place was under quarantine. Nobody was going anywhere. As much as Thalia was not overly fond of being confined, it did have the benefit of allowing her to pick her moment to talk. With a plateful of mashed potatoes and clam chowder in front of her, that time was most assuredly [i]not now[/i]. 

	Then again, she was particularly alone at that point. Bea was well past due for some scathing remark or another at her expense. It was an interesting way to pass the time, out in the world. She could almost set her clock by it. Thalia spotted her at a table, sitting with Alex. Something might be up. It did occur to her that she herself was really the odd one out, hunkering down and eating like a savage. Maybe that was it. Or maybe she just wanted her space. They didn't have to rely on each other to survive right then. Whatever the actual cause, Thalia was oblivious. It wasn't like she had a lot of friends, and her nature didn't usually inspire the loyalty of the masses, nor the trust of strangers. She sighed, shrugged, and returned to her food. 

	There was the slightest bit of confusion as Thalia realized that her plate was empty. She glanced about for a half-second as if initially expecting to see that its contents had been misplaced a foot or so to the left, before common sense took over and she understood that the fritters, mashed potatoes, and [i]chowdah[/i] had magically found their way into her gut without her full, conscious awareness. Autopilot speed comsumption at its finest. What was worse, she could still eat. Resolving to wait for a little bit before truly attempting to gorge herself, Thalia gathered her feet underneath her, moved the plate and such to the designated area for such things, and quietly walked over to where Tatiana and Jack were having their meal. She might want to try some of those recently nonexistent social skills, so long as they were going to be stuck together for a while. As she approached, she crossed her arms, partially out of insecurity over her right forearm. 

	[color=dc143c]"Heya, umm... everybody's keeping to their own little circles, yah?"[/color] A touch uncertain socially, her Boston was acting up a little. [color=dc143c]"I thought, um... I thought that I would say hi. I'm Thalia. I was - "[/color] She stopped herself from saying that she was with the group that attacked Eden, as there was some uncertainty as to how their hosts might take overhearing it. Instead she changed tactics. [color=dc143c]"I just wanted to say, I nevah saw something as brave as raising a baby out in ...well, out [i]there[/i]. You guys are some next-level shit. If you don't mind talking, what did you two do, like, back Beforah?"[/color] 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=deb887]Hank Wright[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/28a8c4fa-dd19-40f4-9d22-e98a27649839.gif[/img][hr][b][color=burlywood]Location:[/color][/b] Quarantine (Converted Sauna -> Conference Room)
[b][color=deb887]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	Well, first Shears, then some guy he hadn't ever met. It made sense, Hank couldn't help it if he wasn't an optimistic thirtysomething with all of his original parts and a willingness to give a rat's ass about moisturizing. Hell, he was satisfied well enough that he still had the vast majority of his teeth, and definitely that he had all of his showcards in that way. This hair thing was just another bit that would blow over in a month, when his facial hair filled back in fully and he had an inch or two of fuzziness covering his skull. It still didn't stop him from giving the man a derisive laugh and contemplate supplementing it with "The Finger". He held off on that last part though, as logic dictated he was at least one of the people who might be providing them with food. Suffering the extremely mild irritation of a jab about his hair was a minuscule price to pay for a plate full of goodies. And my, they did look like goodies.

	He could clearly hear the sounds of joy coming from his survival buddy, Wayne, prompting him to ask a stupidly obvious question (if only to indicate to him that he and the others had returned), [color=deb887]"Hey, Maldonado! How's that grub treating you there, huh?"[/color] He framed his face and head with two big thumbs up, intentionally drawing attention to the fact that he was a bald as a plucked chicken in front of everybody. If Hank was [i]very, very lucky[/i], he might even get to see Wayne snort mashed potatoes through his nose. Fingers crossed. It was the little things that made life worthwhile. 

	Speaking to Amelia and Riley, Hank continued acting in a manner that was seemingly uncharacteristic for him. [color=deb887]"Alrighty then; Red, Rock Star, I'd be a bigger asshole if I didn't let you go first. Just ahh... hmm... yeah, gonna ask you to leave me a little bit of that chowder. I think that's chowder... Or do you say it ChowDAH? Hmm? ChowDER. ChowDAH. DER. DAH. Yeah, no clue. Just save me some."[/color] Turning to the rest of the room, he inquired aloud, [color=deb887]"Hey, how do you folks way [i]chowder[/i] down here? Asking for a friend."[/color] 

	Well, it wasn't a crab boil, but he sure as hell wasn't going to turn his nose up to it. Oh no, not after slogging through sands and swamps, eating whatever buckshot could take down or scavenging cans of mystery meals, no... And softer food, too! Yes, this would do very nicely. But first, the girls. Hank came very close to speaking out to Amelia concerning her display and subsequent actions taken toward the barber, but opted away from it as Shears had, yet again, put what he was considering saying into the air around them before he could. Like he was psychic. Or like he was a fellow asshat who was just quicker to the punch than he was that day. Either way, whenever his hair grew back in, Hank wanted this guy to cut it. At least the conversation wouldn't be boring. 

	Hank got into line, regarding Ash nearby with a nod and a quick, [color=deb887]"Heya there, That Guy."[/color] He then snapped his head back around to Wayne, requesting from across the room a bit, [color=deb887]"Save me a seat, huh Maldonado? You know I'm a big fan of sitting. And apparently, Icelandic children's programming... Wow, go figure."[/color]