[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]  L6 (Apartment 1D)
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
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	Manny enjoyed night walks like this. They became harder when the dead started lurking in the dark, but they were still nice none the less. Plus night shooting was very illegal in many states so Manny had little experience in the matter. But doing this night walk with someone he knew, trusted, and could have a nice conversation with? Perfect. Reminded him of the days when he was still married in many ways. Though he didn't see Alexander as that kind of friend. Manny figured those days were long over for him. Which, he didn't mind. He lived a good life, was married twice, enjoyed those marriages, and now was back to figuring out how retirement would work. Though he doubted he would live in his own house again, it was nice to be having a safe and reliable place to call home. Even if the walls and gates around him caused more unease then he would like to admit. Something about not being able to leave... bothered the old Dentist. 

	But as the conversation went on, it was easy to forget those fears. A good sign that they were minor and he would get over it. Or maybe that meant they would build up and he would snap someday? He wasn't sure. Again, not that kind of doctor. And he had little interest to be. So using his experienced ( Or lack there of ) He went with the first option. Minimal fear. "[color=00aeef]I think you have yourself a deal. But I will be very disappointed if I poke a metal prong in those gums and they bleed.[/color]" He said with a smile. Sure, flossing helped strengthen your gums, but many people just blamed the poke so why not play along with those who don't understand his field. 

	He made his way to the bathroom, flossed, brushed, and rinsed. Not the perfect setup, but a lot better then what he had before. Just because he was old, and in a place with decent healthcare, didn't mean he was allowed to neglect the basics. Clean teeth were happy teeth. Plus, a rotting tooth hurts like all hell. Once he decided that his teeth were all cleaned up for the night he went back to his bed, changed into night clothes, and rested for a new day to come. Tomorrow he would be starting a task that was something also very much out of his field. Education. Children. And the librarian. 



[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]L7 (Inside Condo)
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center]
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	Hunter slept like he always slept. Face down, half off the bed, with 110 pounds of love slowly pushing him off. He rarely slept easy though. Nightmares were frequent for the soldier boy, and he rarely knew how to cope with them or the events they were about. If he was more experienced in life, older in general, or had seen professional help as a child, or even in recent months, they may be better. But the closest to therapy that he has ever gotten, consisted of gathering up thousands of rounds of ammunition for weeks on end, finding a nice spot to do some damage and hunker down, and unleash hell for a few days strait into a passing horde of the undead. It helped, but it mostly just distracted him. But his arms, shoulders, legs, and head always felt like Jelly afterwards and he would sleep for at least a full day or two afterwards.

	In his dream, Hunter was on watch with a hunting rifle in hand. It was dark, but he was used to the night. Easiest time to move as long as you had decent night vision. Outside, one of the largest hordes he has seen since the early days. At least 2 or 3 thousand. But they left him alone on his elevated position. On top of the old farming and agricultural store he had a decent vantage point of the surrounding area. The building was old and made of brick, so the walls were strong. The metal fence was decent as well, but it had given under the pressure a few days ago. So now that stood between him and the undead outside, were some glass doors held shut with the metal gates to stop looters. Plus a simple barricade.  

	About half way into his watch, he heard footsteps from behind him. He had a good guess who it was. But if it wasn't who he thought it was, the horde below may get more riled up then he was ready for. Slowly turning, he saw her. "[color=00a651]You're late.[/color]" He said making eye contact, keeping the rifle leaning against the edge of the building. "I know. Don took forever to fall asleep. Fucking jackass." She was older then Hunter, but you couldn't tell from looking at her. She stood barely over five foot, and walked like a tired child who just got out of bed. "[color=00a651]You okay?[/color]" The soldier boy asked in a quiet tone, careful not to disturb the horde below. She simply nodded and sat by Hunter on an identical folding chair. They were here to talk, but both clearly didn't want to start the conversation. Finally, Hunter broke the silence. "[color=00a651]How... how long has it been.... happening.[/color]" She shrugged. "Depends. Since they were not treating me as a prisoner? A few months. Been with them a bit longer though." She talked as if she was recalling events of a book she had little interest in. Her eyes gave a different story, that if Hunter didn't already know the rest of the story, he would have missed it entirely. "[color=00a651]Lucy the same...[/color]" He asked. Now not able to make eye contact. For a reply, he got a nod. "[color=00a651]Oh god...[/color]" He leaned his head down grabbing his hair. "[color=00a651]God... I should have... I should have known.[/color]" The girl didn't make eye contact with him, but her face returned to a stone expression hiding her true thoughts.

	He wished he was someone who knew how to solve social problems. He wished he knew how to convince people to do things that needed to be done. But he could barely do that with himself at times, let alone with others. And now? "[color=00a651]I'll.... make it right. I promise.[/color]" He wasn't sure how he would. But something had to work. "Just don't make it worse. You know what's going on now, so surely you can do that much." He nodded. As if that was enough of an answer. But he still felt he had to fix things, right the wrongs. He took a good look at the rifle he was keeping watch with. In his mind, the odds were three to five. Manageable. But only two people of his three could be relied on for a fight, and only one had a gun. The five, different story. As far as he could see, he had two choices. Let things stay as they are... Or repeat what happened the night his unit fell apart. Both were poor options in his mind. "[color=00a651]This fucking sucks.[/color]" The girl did a simple laugh, with an expression that would match the question 'Are you serious?'. She composed her self rather fast though as to not draw the attention of the horde below. "Preaching to the choir Soldier Boy."