[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=00aeef]Emanuel "Manny" Newman[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/163dc10b-061c-4aa2-bdaa-4c4f6cd4d02b.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr]
[center][b]Location:[/b] Quarantine
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
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Manny wasn't really sure how to intervene here, he felt something should be done, especially since local security didn't seem to care. But he wasn't sure what he could do without making things worse. He was no soldier, he wasn't a well trained guard. He was a taller man with some physical strength to his name, though his age restricted that. And he had no reason to believe trying to pull Beatrice off the stupid soldier boy was a good idea. Beatrice was someone he trusted, and someone he Manny could rely on, the boy? Spoke of paranoia and spoke it very loudly. No, he wasn't worth creating tension between those he trusted. Manny was then debating how to handle verbal interference, but after more monologues from one of the other men in this newly formed group, and some more voice raising from the soldier boy, Beatrice let him go. Manny sighed with relief, the guards didn't get involved at this point, but would they have if Beatrice broke the kid's arm? Manny wasn't sure, but was glad to see the restraint she held. No matter how annoying the kid was, someone with a broken arm was someone that needed a lot more help and assistance then someone without one.

Manny made his way over to Beatrice. "[color=00aeef]Nice job handling the boy there.[/color]" Manny had been in situations in the past where sometimes violence was the answer, or at least a solid threat of violence worked. Though he wasn't a fan of it anymore, it was used well enough here. "[color=00aeef]And thank you for not breaking his arm. He may be loud and stupid, but I don't think he poses any real threat. And if it turns out he does, pretty sure you can take him just as well later as you did now.[/color]" He chuckled, eventually moving to find a chair. He was still worried about the lack of action preformed by the guards, but things seemed to be settling down. That was a plus.

Alexander seemed to have handled this whole thing in less then a pleasant way. Though he didn't blame him, couldn't blame him. His friend had seem some pretty horrible things, even before the world ended. Long before the world they had known even existed the way it did. Manny wished there was a way he could help, but he knew how Alexander didn't like to talk about these sort of things. "[color=00aeef]How are you holding up there buddy?[/color]" Manny asked, trying not to push Alexander too much.

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=00a651]Private Hunter James Monroe[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/c08a6051-3ab9-4c98-87b6-05533c8b19e8.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr]
[center][b]Location:[/b]  Quarantine 
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
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Hunter decided he hated everything about this place. The exception being the coffee. In one day, he had lost his dog without knowing anything happening to her, he had been threatened to be shot for asking questions, had dealt with multiple people who he would rather not deal with, had been ordered to turn over his weapons for a chance this place didn't shoot him, and he had what little left of his pride taken away when he got tackled to the floor, and was unable to do anything about it. He had gotten warnings from roughly half the people in the room, and the girl had eventually let him go. He didn't get up at first, laying on the floor debating if it was worth it to get up at this moment. Eventually he did though, though he didn't feel much better about things when he did. He still felt trapped, and still unsure how to go on with things from here.

He stood, trying to keep a strait face, but he was out of it, and he had a lot of trouble hiding his defeated face. He slowly made his way back to the coffee pot, not saying a word to anyone, avoiding eye contact with anyone, then going to refill his coffee. What surprised him, it seemed to be the last cup. He figured good timing on his part, one last cup. Though, The words of one of the other old men repeated in his head. He needed a friend. But he didn't think anyone in here would trust him at this point. Nor did he think there was anyone here he could trust. Though, thinking about room assignment, he wondered who he would get paired with. Would it be someone that could put up with him? Someone he could put up with? Maybe someone that would leave him alone? He wasn't sure, but the idea of not knowing was upsetting to him. And he wished that these people would get it over with, he just wanted somewhere he could be with less people. He wondered how Izibell was doing, she went easy enough with the others, so hopefully she was having better luck then he was.