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[h3][color=4682b4][i][b]Ash Holloway[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=4682b4]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Mechanics (K)
[i][b][color=4682b4]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	It wouldn't be the first time that he'd have gone to psychological therapy, such things were required in the Army at certain stages or after traumas had occurred; done to assure the brass that he was still fit to command as well as helping him adjust to realities of stress and combat. Not a big deal. And this wasn't even a requirement for him; it was merely a suggestion. Mild introspection had Ash understanding that it wouldn't hurt anything. It might even help him out a little to unpack some of his experiences and how he felt about them, not to mention what he had been doing to cope. It did open a lot of thought provoking questions, many of which weren't an issue back when he had his last psych exam. Memories, especially recent ones, were abound. 

	The first thing that came to Ash's recollections, as he headed to his predetermined job site from the hospital, was the fact that he hadn't been desensitized to [i]reveille[/i] as of yet. Damn near to a Pavlovian response every time that called him to action. Granted, his earlier thoughts and memories of the morning centered around the woman he had spent the night with, and woken up next to. But honestly, she occupied much of his thoughts anyway. Also swirling around in there was his upcoming job with Mechanics, under someone named "Rivets" that he was reasonably sure he hadn't met yet, the fish and grits they had for breakfast that reminded him of he staple foodstuffs they established in Newnan, and that he needed to get into a more stable exercise routine when his schedule evened out. Every so often, Ash was reminded that he wasn't 23 and invincible anymore. And yes, he was still thinking about Thana. These might not be the sort of things that his interviewing psychologist would want to talk about. But he'd have to find out, Mondays and Thursdays at 1800 hours. 

	As he neared the building, Ash's thoughts solidified into something more professional. He wasn't technically a soldier anymore, and he sure as hell wasn't the man in charge, either. That didn't mean that he held himself to any less of a standard of punctuality, ethic, or respect. Every job was important. Every job, be it in a small way or a big one, contributed to all of their continued survival. And whatever needed to be done, Ash intended to handle as much of it as possible before 1400 hours, so that his superiors would have no cause for qualms or negative commentary about his absence to pay respects to his people, recovered by the CMB field team. 

	Checking the paper once more, Ash straightened to his full height and entered Mechanics. The feel of the air in there reminded him very much of the places he learned how to sling a wrench as a kid, or an off-base Army motor pool. It was comforting, in a way. As Ash entered the work area, he saw Mizrahi and two people he didn't recognize. Not wanting to make any assumptions as to who the shop foreman was, he spoke in a clear, concise manner while referencing his leaf of yellow paper, [color=4682b4]"Ashton Holloway. Reporting to 'Rivets' for assignment."[/color] 





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[h3][color=dc143c][i][b]Thalia Carmichael[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=dc143c]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Administration (A)
[i][b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	Another look at the paper in her hands - check that - [i]hand[/i] had her working in the Administration. She was dutifully on her way out to the Admin building, just like her impersonal slip of paper told her to. In some ways, being in Camp Mexico Beach was like being in one of the [i]MSS[/i] secure sites, except that she could always flash a corporate ID and waltz right in, if they didn't just let her past because they knew who she was. Living as she had for a while now, Thalia could tell that she had a sense of entitlement about a lot of things back then. Some of it was deserved but much of it was not, or merely by circumstances of her birth. Hindsight let her know that it was all pretty stupid. If nothing else, the apocalypse had given her a greater sense of humility. If nothing else, it taught her about her own actual merit, rather than that of her Familia. Some lessons were harder than others. 

	Something that caught her attention was the job listing of "Runner" on her way out of the Mess Hall. If that was what she thought it was, then she definitely wanted to sign up. When did they get out of probationary status again? She wanted to talk to Maddoc anyway, about getting into some more serious training. Two birds, one stone. At least she could mention that she was interested. It never hurt to put the idea out there. If she did well in other areas, that might put her in a favorable position later. But to the more immediate, where the ass was her brother? She might or might not have a bone to pick with the guy, and she didn't manage to catch him around their quarters. Coming nearer to Administration, Thalia began to realize that she might be heaping too much on her plate at one time. She literally had a day job now. Here she was trying to take on a ton of activities just to get back to her fighting best and maybe have a little fun now and again. 

	[color=dc143c][i]"Ballet, soldiering with Maddog, day job, jogging with Captain America (pending), sparring with Hadrian, exercise routines, Runner, oh god, that D&D circle, ...group [i]fucking[/i] therapy..."[/i][/color] she found herself muttering aloud to herself. Yes, she had decided that it would be wise to attend group therapy. Maybe it didn't hit her fully yet, but she lost part of a limb and her effectiveness in just about everything she was good at before had taken a massive hit. Maybe she didn't need to be on medication, but eventually something might compromise her emotionally. Wait, had she forgotten something? Oh yeah, [color=dc143c]"The Great Fuck Hunt,"[/color] she said flatly. A random citizen of CMB overheard her and gave her a [i]look[/i], prompting Thalia to stop and return said gaze with a sarcastically questioning gaze, as if asking the guy if he felt like adding something of his own. A disengaging series of facial expressions later, they both agreed to leave each other alone. Thalia entered the building, now curious as to where the other [i]Great Fuck Huntresses[/i] in her informal Guild might be working. Perhaps she'd run into one of them later on. 

	A little surprise took Thalia as she noticed that Alexander had beaten her there, already with Gunny. [color=dc143c]"Awful spry for a pirate,"[/color] she said, though not at a level anyone might have picked it up. It was a habit of hers. Sometimes her internal thoughts became external. Walking up to the two of them, she gave a little smile to Alexander and followed it up with a quick, [color=dc143c]"You and me today, Mugs."[/color] The two of them didn't start off as friends, really. The old bastard somehow [i]outlasted[/i] her offputting manner long enough to get past that, though. She had to give credit where it was due. Now they had a bit in common, aside from all that killing the first day they met. But Thalia forgot herself for a moment. She focused her attention to Gunny and asked directly, [color=dc143c]"Where you want me first, Boss?"[/color]