[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8fad17a9-9f82-4bbd-8428-62a1824e07c9.gif[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] Quarantine (Room 8 -> Conference Room)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	It was early. Earlier than usual, anyway, when Ash got his wake-up call. The environment was still new enough that he awoke cleanly, like a stick snapping underfoot. His eyes opened to Thana, who was also coming back to the waking world. Ash smiled, carefully looking over to the other bed in the room. It lay there, lonely and unused, still made with tight, fitted sheets. Did they actually expect them to sleep apart? No, it seemed silly. Whomever had to tidy this room was going to have a relatively easy time of it. The older man, Hank? Ash thought he pulled that detail. Still, Ash got to experience waking up next to Thana. It was more than enough to have made the whole trek worthwhile. 

	The warm and fuzzy feelings were still present, but the growing awareness that waking up brings also reminded him that there were some serious issues that had been discussed, and still needed to be discussed. Tense was the word used in this occasion. Today was going to he a harder day than most. It might even cost him something precious. Still, he understood what had happened and what yet had to. One of those things that was going to happen was actually a higher point in the day. Ash gave Thana a supportive smile, leaned in and readily lifted her into his arms. The less time she spent on that leg the better, and it gave him an excuse to hold her close. He carried the Commander out into the Conference Room under escort (of course) and set her down at the table with Gunny, their paperwork, and a box that he came to find out had familiar documentation within. 

	Ash wasn't part of these people officially. And there was always the possibility that he wouldn't be, if they didn't like something about his past or about what they saw of him during his stay so far. Being there put him in an odd position. Prior to things getting underway, he quietly and politely asked of Thana, [color=4682b4]"Please let me know if I can help, or if I need to make myself scarce. Thanks."[/color] Otherwise he kept himself nearby and quiet, but not obtrusive, in the event either was necessary. Yeah, things were tense. And they were about to get even more tense. 

	He hadn't expected to actually be called over to help review some of the papers. Surprise and confusion, albeit mild, struck him. It didn't slow him down as he took a knee next to the table ad began looking over what Thana was just been reviewing. [color=4682b4]"This's ...damnit,"[/color] he breathed. Echoing Thana's original spoken thought on it, [color=4682b4]"Seriously?"[/color] Black and white, peer reviewed, and they had no motivation Ash could think of to lie. He breathed out a long lungful of air. Yeah, that became a discussion.

	Luck being with them, or a good sense of timing, it was finalized before the others were escorted in. Tension was clearly in the faces of both Ash and Thana, but not enough to prevent a tiny amount of camaraderie as Thana planted a light kiss on Ash's shoulder and made a request of him. [color=4682b4]"Sure, be right back,"[/color] he said, making himself useful. He went and grabbed a cup of coffee and grabbed a portion of salt. Not fully aware of her preference on how much to add, he brought it back to observe. On the way back, he noticed Tatiana. He wanted to speak with her immediately about something pressing, but here's where it got fuzzy: Ash was privy to something the others weren't, even if he had no say in anything that went on. It would be a failing of ethic to be seen talking during, or immediately after, until he was told what if anything could be discussed. Instead, he gave a noncommittal smile and nod, a quick, [color=4682b4]"Mornin', Tati,"[/color] add returned to Thana's side with her coffee. And salt. Navy thing, she had mentioned. Ash might never understand salted coffee. 

	Today was going to be eventful. 



[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 (Room 5 -> Conference Room)
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	Yeah, her and Beatrice were friends. It was hard to define things of that nature without some random jackass putting their own label on things, and Lord knew what Erica thought of them now after a post meridian lock-in involving a lack of modesty and Spanish yodeling, but for Thalia, [i]friend[/i] seemed an appropriate enough title. Apparently, one with benefits. And while she felt a sense the weight of built up anxiety and frustration had lightened considerably, and several times, when she entered the Conference Room under armed escort, only to see even more guns in the room, the survival instincts of the young woman were beginning to flare. 

	Today was the day, wasn't it? The day to see if her attitude was welcome here, to see if her actions hadn't damned her. She probably didn't make the best impression that first day, grabbing a ton of food and retreating to a defensible location like an animal to hunch over and consume it, nursing the stump of a missing paw. Or the fact that air conditioning still made her uncomfortable. Or the threats. Maybe not the sparring session, people seemed to respond favorably. But all of that aside, Thalia was in a weakened position. She needed help, as much as it pained her to admit it. 

	Thalia would have rather been on her own, a lot of the time out there. Sometimes, it was best. Lately, the concept of a small unit appealed to her, but getting back to the majority of her post-Outbreak life? Alone. The hard lesson she learned was that sooner or later, we all need someone. It was the primary difference to the survival strategies of herself and Beatrice. Twice now, Thalia was laid low because of circumstances. The first time she was lucky enough to have been found by people to brought her back whole and made her stronger. Now, at this second time, she needed the same thing. She needed to become stronger or perish. Beatrice had made a couple of comments about not wanting to stay. Thalia understood, truly more than the others might. She didn't have to like it, though. 

	But again, today was the day, and Beatrice was making note of it. Thalia was heaping the breakfast on her own plate, as fit her heathen practice of eating whatever the hell she wanted and not gaining a noticeable ounce. She responded to her friend's query with North Mexican accented Spanish, [color=dc143c]"No sé, Killah Bea. Pero, apuesto a que nuestro compañero de cuarto quiere salir de aquí [i]bastante[/i] mal, después de anoche,[/color][sub]1[/sub][color=dc143c] huh?"[/color] She smiled and offered up her prosthetic for a quick fist bump. [color=dc143c]"Llámame loco, pero creo que el viejo va a entrar.[/color][sub]2[/sub][color=dc143c] Seems okay. Mostly."[/color] 

	Joke as she might, today was going to be huge. She could look at the expression on Navy's face and see that something was up. What exactly was still a mystery, but something. Thana wasn't going anywhere, obviously. So overall, Thalia just hoped that her friend would stay. She gave Beatrice a knowing look, before nodding. She had no idea what was running through the woman's head, but trying to sway her to stick around a place where she wasn't comfortable would lead to resentment. That's not who they were. As for Thalia, maybe one day she'd [i]Robinson Crusoe[/i] up a nice, fortified treehouse someplace and spend her autumn years in peace, or maybe she'd eventually make it back to her people in Mexico, but for now she needed to be here. Unless she didn't make the cut. That would definitely make today an interesting day. [color=dc143c]"C'mon Bea. Let's sit and wait for judgement."[/color] With a sly smile, she looked to their mutual roommate, [color=dc143c]"It's okay. You can come too, Erica. We don't bite."[/color] Of course, that wasn't entirely true. 


[hider=Translations]
1	=	I don't know, Killah Bea. But I bet that our roommate wants to get out of here pretty bad, after last night, huh? 
2	=	Call me crazy, but I think the old guy is going to get in. 
[/hider]




[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=deb887]Hank Wright[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/512644c3-1ce1-4607-8ef7-70b0e9371881.gif[/img][hr][b][color=burlywood]Location:[/color][/b] Quarantine (Room 7 -> Conference Room)
[b][color=deb887]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	Hank was feeling a little more optimistic than his former detective counterpart. Not that Wayne didn't seem to be in good spirits, but his morale seemed to be rooted in a distinct lack of fuck-giving, while Hank's was more a general feeling that thing were going to work out okay for him. More than him, for them both. So yes, call him an optimist. Yes, he'd been grumbly and [i]yes[/i], he'd been a rude bastard a lot of the time he'd been in Mexico Beach. Hank was like that well before, and would be like that well after. But there was a sense of understanding that he (hoped) he got from his interview. Maybe everything really would be okay. And if it wasn't, then to hell with this place and everyone in it. Him and Wayne had done just fine before, they would do just fine after and be thankful for the week-long vacation. 

	[color=deb887]"Ya know there, Maldonado, if this doesn't work out we can keep to the coast and head south. Fix up a car along the way, like we've been doing. Find us a nice piece of oceanfront property with a view that lasts for days. Hey, hey... what do you think about just taking one of the Florida Keys? You know, smaller one."[/color] It was a bit of padding, in case one or both of them were deemed unfit. Hank already decided that wherever goeth Wayne, so went him. So if he got the boot, Hank was packing his shit and following suit. But he caught a glimmer of something in the eyes of his interviewer. Hence, the relative optimism that was usually against his better judgement. 

	Wayne mentioned the baby again. He really liked that kid. Bonded a little, to look at the two of them together. [color=deb887]"Yuh huh, with you there. A few decent people in this gaggle of assholes, and that kid's alright."[/color] This was Hank-speak for [i]"I agree, and further wish to say that I like many of these fine people."[/i] 

	Returning to the Conference Room, he saw the beginnings of some shit a'brewing. It didn't take a psychologist to figure that out, though he did make an attempt to scan the room for telltale signs of where the shit might originate, were it to. The presence of many guns caught his attention, too. Or, more guns. He likewise got breakfast and a cup of coffee and joined his friend. Oh, there was going to be a show, all right. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve [i]them[/i].

[hider=Roll Request]
Character current location: [i]Conference Room[/i]
Characters attempted actions: [i]Reading the room[/i]
Any and all skills being used: [i]People Reading, Advanced Psychology [/i]
Why each skill is being called: [i]To read individuals in the room for warning signs, as well as the overall feel of the place. Further, to interpret possible courses of action based upon those signs and what he might have observed about them over the past week. [/i] 
Desired location of the character: [i]N/A[/i]
[/hider]