[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=4682b4]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1][img]https://i.ibb.co/Wnnd0Wm/Ash-FC-5.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=steelblue][b]Location:[/b][/color] L11 (Beach, Backstage)
[color=4682b4][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	Though the novelty and wonder of the occasion was heavily coloring Ash's thoughts, he couldn't help but continue to keep a mental checklist on what was going on around him. Maybe that was just how people had to live, anymore, and every so often he thanked whichever incarnation of God was still looking down on them that he hadn't become a truly paranoid individual because of it. All the same, when the ruling authorities of the settlement began to have earnest conversation and point in his direction, Ash took notice. The fact that they were all blood relatives of Thana was just a detail. 

	In time, Thana's song came to an end and Ash began a spirited round of applause, but that came to an end as her uncle and the guy he had met just earlier in the dance area came to hoist her away. Ash took a balanced step forward, unsure as to what he might do when he got over to her but still of the mindful of her request to [i]stay close[/i], no matter what. As she was carried back, he relented, taking his spot behind the wings again. Something seemed like it was up. Thana looked just fine. Happy, even. He caught her gaze, and her wordless message. Thana meant to sing another song. 

	It was good-natured ribbing when Thana vented what he said to her privately about singing some Rolling Stones. He knew that. To say that it might sound like a Virginian cat's final screeches after he got himself drunk was colorful, if not entirely accurate. Oh, he couldn't sing a bit, that wasn't the issue. The truth was, for him to get up and sing now, the amount of alcohol he'd have to imbibe would render him partly comatose. He might not even make it to "dying cat" level. He smiled back at Thana, returned the wink. He was about to be treated to [i]"Paint It, Black"[/i]. That counted for a lot. Likewise, it was nice of her to call out the other Rolling Stones fan from her group out on the road. She was thoughtful that way. 

	The song queued up, and the first words of it began to roll out from her lips. This was good. This was something he might have gone to see, even back Before. 


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=dc143c]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://i.ibb.co/D9f1NPS/Thalia-Irritated.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] L11 (Beach, Kettles)
[b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	It seemed that the party was following Thalia, whether she liked it or not. Of course if was a coincidence; she was at the bar with a group of people getting a drink, then they all decided to grab some food at more or less the same time. Even though she was logically aware of this, it still felt like [i]she alone[/i] was driving the Party Bus, and everyone else was annoying the hell out of her. Thalia figured that she'd better get used to it. This was life now. She couldn't be a hermit. People had risked their lives, even died, for her to get here, and she had risked her life for the same. Hell, her little group [i]literally paid an arm and a leg to get here[/i]. She could try to handle being around people for a while. 

	Thalia took her plate and ...envelope(?), bidding Cook a wary [color=dc143c]"Thanks,"[/color] before wandering a few paces back to [b]the exact spot she was in before[/b], as hopefully those asshats saved that exact spot like they said they would very loudly and very sarcastically. Mostly, it was because it was near a piece of fire, and she wanted to read whatever this was. [color=dc143c]"Sparrow, sparrow... oh, Navy? Shit, okay,"[/color] she muttered. Thalia had heard Sparrow before, but her brain just didn't make the connection for a second or two. Without two fully dexterous hands, Thalia had to sit down on the sand, cross-legged, and put her plate in her lap to open and read the letter. [color=dc143c]"Good thing I brought my letter opener,"[/color] she said with no small amount of snark, manually extending the middle finger of her prosthetic hand with her left and utilizing it to tear into the envelope. She removed the note inside and stared at it for a while, the most puzzled expression on her face. Absently, Thalia picked up a whole boiled shrimp and ripped it in half with her teeth, chewing it shell and all. She shot a dirty look at whoever even looked like they might say something about it. 

	While struggling over what she was reading with pure incredulity reading on her, Thalia happened to hear something massively disturbing going on nearby. This was the first example of creepy drunk talk she'd seen in a good long while, and part of her started to run scenarios in her head of what she might do to intervene, if the blonde girl couldn't handle herself properly. The thought did cross her mind that [i]restrain[/i] was going to be a lot more difficult than [i]incapacitate[/i] or [i]neutralize[/i], owing to certain factors that were difficult to miss with her. Maybe it was the training at her uncle's hands kicking back in after so long. Or maybe she was truly beginning to look at this place as her new home. She didn't even give a decent shit that she was missing some really awesome music nearby, courtesy of Navy herself. She could come back to that. 

	Tossing a couple more shrimp into her face, she chewed noisily and stared, debating which course was the best option, if any, though the course of walking up and pretending to proposition the girl to give her an out, came roaring back as the option from college. Thalia swallowed hard, and decided that instead of making a scene or rabbit-punching the obviously inebriated and disturbing fellow in the base of his brain, she'd give something else to draw focus. 

	[color=dc143c]"Seriously?"[/color] she started, a definitive note of annoyance as she rustled the paper in her hands. [color=dc143c]"First piece of mail I get in almost [i]six fucking years[/i], and it's some Christmas Story decoder ring bullshit?"[/color] Thalia rose, plate hooked into her prosthetic's thumb and note in hand. [color=dc143c]"...[i]mierda de toro[/i] fucking bullshit..."[/color] If that diverted attention or gave an out, great. Yay tactic. But whether it did or not, she had food to hork back and a mystery to solve. Preferably painfully. Thalia had someone to speak with.