[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] L9 (Street) --> L6 (Apartment 1D)
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
[hr][hr]

	The walk to the apartment was simple and nice. Though it was hard to ignore the drunken boy and the way he spun and twirled as he walked. Who knows, maybe he was a dancer before things fell apart. "[color=00aeef]This pixie is going to be the one cleaning your teeth someday. Just keep that in mind.[/color]" Manny said with a chuckle. These witty remarks helped any situation seen nicer, friendlier, and was a great outlet at times. Though he was right about watching his back. Manny was no fighter. Sure, he could handle a shotgun damn well. Some might say better then he understood the human body, but he was still a doctor. And had no real combat skills. Even in his youth where he got into fights regularly he wouldn't have called himself [*]Skilled[*]. "[color=00aeef]You should know, I haven't wet my bed since I was in my forties thank you very much.[/color]" He said in his semi serious tone. "[color=00aeef]Buuuuut. Wednesdays sound fair. Though I have no idea what day of the week it is. So that is up to you to figure out. Until then, you have no way to prove it's not Wednesday.[/color]" He smiled. These little jokes made everything so much better.

	When Alexander brought up the kid, it didn't take Manny too much effort to figure out who he was talking about. He looked back again to see the boy still twirling, and noticed he seemed to be twitching, maybe reaching for something Manny couldn't see. But would stop as soon as he started. He almost wondered if the boy was delusional, but he wasn't that kind of doctor. So he had no way of telling. Making his way to his room though he told Alexander goodnight, and made his way to bed. This was a long week, and things were crazy all around. He wondered what the following weeks would have in store for him, Alexander, team Eden overall, and the new survivors in general. 




[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]  L10 --> L7 (Inside Condo)
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
[hr][hr]

	Hunter was in and out at this point of the night. Sure, he was focused enough to respond in the moment, but most of what others were saying and what he was saying was lost relatively quick. One thing that did register, he was in everyone sights. By instinct, his hand kept going towards the side of his right leg, looking for something that was no longer there. He would realize quick, but would soon have his back over looking for it again. But they had taken it when he arrived here, and that was always a late thought that came to the soldier boy. Every now and again he would reach over to his left side using his right hand, turning around as he did so as if looking for something. But as he kept doing this while walking, he almost tripped each time, and his hand never seemed to find what it was looking for. Though he would still do the spinning, searching motion. As if expecting someone to come up on him. He felt... watched. Hunted. He didn't like it. He registered a lot of old people, some kids, and Nigel. Every now and again slipping why Nigel was with him, but he chalked it up to they probably lived near each other. "[color=00a651]Thought someone grabbed it...[/color]" He said as a late response about the oatmeal. Very late all things considering, the lack of context didn't help. Then again, reaching over to his right leg. But still missing. He felt... Naked without it. Or without any of his gear. 

	His stumbling was... He was going in the right direction. And he wasn't falling over. Again. That he was done with. He looked over to see general housing. Seemed to be the place to go, he was pretty sure he lived there now. He stumbled towards the door attempting to straiten his uniform as he went. Despite the abuse he had put it through the last few years, and this evening especially, it still held up really well. Other then the oatmeal that landed up on him the uniform held off from the sand rather well.  He stopped outside the door though, not sure if everything was alright. He reached yet again towards the side of his leg. With the item of note still missing, his reach ended rather fast again. Didn't stop him from reaching to his left for another item of note, only again to not be found. He knew he had to go inside... but he wasn't sure he expected. He knew it should be safe, but some form of warning alarm was going off in his head that he was at least 40% sure wasn't just him being dizzy from being under weight and over drinking. He reached into his pocket for his key, noting it was still there. Good. Something was where it was supposed to be. 

	Before going in, he turned to Nigel who he had taken note had been following him. "[color=00a651]Thanks.[/color]" He barely muttered out. He knew there was a reason for thanking him, but it was slipping now. Maybe it would come to him later. Letting himself into the building, he walked down the hall to his room, with the key now tightly held between his middle and index finger, pointing outwards with his fist, but still walking casually (As he could being wasted at least) Part of him knew it wasn't needed, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Making his way to his room he unlocked the door now letting the key into a more relaxed position. When unlocked, he put it between his fingers with his fist yet again. Inside, he was revealed to see his best friend. "[color=00a651]Hey Girl...[/color]" He let the heavy dog go up and lick his face, nearly knocking him over. He rubbed her for a bit, then crashed in bed with a huge mound of love and muscle laying on his side. Who if left unchecked, would probably knock him off the bed.