[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]
[hr][hr]

The morning went by smoothly for Manny. Sure he was stressed, but he figured he did pretty well to hide that. No matter what, it would be his last day in this damn room. That he was glad for. Though he wasn't worried about himself staying much, as his interview felt like a job interview awkwardly enough, but he wondered how those that he came in with would fair. Though he didn't see a reason they wouldn't be let in he still worried. They were his family, no matter how close or far they grew from each other, he would always do his best for them. Though... at his age, his best may be a liability more then anything else. 

Manny went on with the day thinking to himself, 'This will be the last time I am doing *Insert random thing I am doing now* In quarantine like this'. Sure, he had loved much of what he had seen of CMB, and some things he had been less then pleased with, but these particular rooms he was looking forward to never seeing again. Though if he were to say that out loud, he could imagine jinxing himself and becoming the designated quarantine doctor. God he hoped that didn't happen. Though while washing dishes for the sixth day in a row being a doctor again seemed much more appealing. 

Once back in the main room Manny grabbed himself a simple lunch and found a nice spot to sit. Once he finished his lunch he started pacing back and forth in the main room, not out of anxiety, but for the fact of he wanted to keep moving. He kept his quality of life this high for so many years by keeping active. Sure he was no navy seal doing 10,000 pull ups and push ups. But jogging or speed walking helped at his age. Weights were harder at his age now, but carrying gear seemed to do the trick. Though his endurance has started to struggle in recent years. Maybe he should consider trying weights again, even if light ones. He stopped after a while as he was starting to tire out, and yet again found a comfortable chair to sit in. But damn was he starting to hate chairs. He saw Thana with yet more papers, the poor girl must be drowning in all that damn paperwork. He gave a friendly wave, but she seemed busy so wouldn't push anything past that. 



[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]
[hr][hr]

To say that Hunter felt like an ass, would be a very accurate statement. While in his stay at Camp Mexico beach he had lost his shit on a new mother, prepared himself to fight off the entirety of the camp (Even knowing he would lose trying), and left a feeling of paranoia where ever he went. He wanted to blame it all on the stress of being in an unfamiliar place, but he figured there was probably more to this then he wanted to admit. This world that he was getting thrown into was... too normal for him. He had heard of soldiers who had returned from war, and found that returning to civilian life was almost impossible for them as it was so drastically different for them compared to the war fronts. Was that something he was going through? He wasn't deployed long at all though... Or was he? Had he ever really left when his unit was killed? Had he ever left the mentality of being a soldier? He didn't know, and it confused and frustrated him. Sure these were thoughts he has had in the past, but not this deep. The closest he had gotten to a normal life before this place would be a couple random survivors who were somewhat nice to him before they were gone too.

His ignorance really showed to Hunter when Nigel and Nikki pointed out that these people were not likely to hold him at gun point like a prison camp if he was kicked out, not unless he caused trouble along the way. Though he felt he had some justification, much of the struggles he had faced since arriving were caused by his own paranoia and lack of ability to trust those around him. But hearing it from Nikki, the girl who was nice and did some maybe flirty things that Hunter still struggled to understand, and from Nigel the man who gave Hunter a chance to be a normal person and have a normal person conversation to help show his calm and collective side, it helped him understand that he needed to dial it back a notch or two. Or maybe remove the notch altogether. Though that would take more then a couple sentences from the two people here he was starting to believe he might be able to trust. Even that thought though reminded him of how far his paranoid thoughts had gotten him. 

Snapping back to the world outside of his own head, Nigel had made a comment about Roman Democracy and comparing it to this place. Hunter could see it in a way. The reassurances helped too. "[color=00a651]I think things will turn out alright too. One way or another. Things will be... Alright.[/color]" It was hard to stay positive when every bone in his body wanted to say '[i]No something is wrong don't trust this place nothing can be this perfect[/i]'. He figured that voice would always be there, maybe with time he could fix it. Or at least suppress it enough to function normally. Or... Maybe he wont, and trying to will make it worse... He stopped himself once he noticed those thoughts creeping back in. This was going to be hard. And a problem that couldn't be shot, stabbed, or beaten with a wooden stick. Though a decent start, Nigel asked Hunter a question that he wasn't sure he could say no to. "[color=00a651]A sword?[/color]" He said with a slight smile and a slight tone change. He turned, making eye contact, but barely full face. "[color=00a651]Yeah, that would be pretty cool.[/color]" He decided that Nigel could be someone to trust. He was nicer then most. Or maybe.... most were that nice, and he struggled to believe that. "[color=00a651]I had a sister who was really into swords and things like that, though she was more into the middle ages and things like that. I'd imagine she'd get into the roman stuff too though.[/color]" He smiled, though it was hard. Apart of him knew he would never see her or anyone else from his family again. 

Over the next few hours, the guards kept making their rounds. Though by instinct part of him would keep track of it, he let it go for the most part. Sure, all the guns in play kept his mind working, but otherwise he did his best to just let it go. Chores went by with ease, cleaning wasn't hard when no one here had anything in their rooms, and lunch was lunch. He knew what to expect by this point. There was more activity from the CMB people, but he wouldn't say anything about it. He heard Izibell was doing good, and that made him happy. Part of his interview came back to him. Though not word for word, the concept was the important thing he remembered. If he was going to stay, and become a functioning member of this community, he was going to have to face the facts. They were dead. All of them. It's just a matter of where the corpses are at this point.