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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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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/YDbGSVd/Ash-Outstanding.gif[/img][/right]
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	It was kind of a lucky break for Ash that Hunter showed up late to his job after lunch. Because he was, Ash was moved over to a bathroom that looked far, far less like a cesspit with plumbing fixtures. No gagging, no desire to let fly his delicious tuna casserole across the countryside, no needing to hose off. And more than that, he could attempt to participate in conversation. Not exactly his top priority, getting to know these people and letting them get to know him was the first step into becoming a trusted part of Camp Mexico Beach. That was the goal, assimilate the Newnan people into this established community. Himself included. 

	The problem was, this conversation he was on the periphery of was sounding more and more like a scene from a sitcom with every passing second. Ash stopped his cleaning for a moment, just a short second or two to give a look in the direction of the Middle Eastern accent that was forcing out a phrase that [i]had[/i] to have come from Thana. This sentiment was echoed by Tesla prior to his withdrawal back into the Fabrication section of the building. Responding to his half wave and sentiment of good luck, Ash articulated, [color=4682b4]"Yeah, thanks,"[/color] and gave the other half of that wave. Then he got back to cleaning.  

	It was kind of a shame, Ash wouldn't have minded a conversation with the guy. The work with the prosthetic limbs that he saw on the two people from the Eden Group was enough to warrant a professional discussion of its own merit, and it wouldn't hurt to make contacts with the tool people - people like himself - in this place. Then again, Mizrahi was the resident mechanic, it looked like. It was another thing which kept his interest; working on machines. And he had opted to open a conversation with him, while he worked on the bathroom. So he obliged. It was the neighborly thing to do. And that last charming southern colloquialism that he used was cause for utter confusion. [color=4682b4]"From the sound of it, it could be briar [i]bush[/i] or briar [i]patch[/i]. I'm not really familiar with that phrase. My people are from Virginia."[/color] He gave a little shrug. [color=4682b4]"Not sure why you would want to beat a hog, but cutting a switch off of a briar bush seems like a way to do it."[/color] He spoke a little slower and more clearly than he did ordinarily. Not to the point of being condescending, but as a polite measure. 

	Maybe he heard it wrong, anyway. Or maybe he was just thrown off because the phrase coming out of Mizrahi's mouth. The American Southeast spoke its own dialect of English and it was often difficult to understand casual conversation from one region to another. Ash continued to clean, now taking a scrub brush to the places that needed it. 



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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) (Lobby -> Basement)
[i][b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/5rQc2nm/x-Thalia.gif[/img][/right]
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  	It appeared that the use of strange phrases wasn't limited to Mechanics and Fabrication. Thalia could say with grave certainly that it was the first time that she'd heard the expression "Pickle My Peas". She didn't care beyond the novelty of it, so long as she actually tried to do something about the emergency at hand. Had Thalia's hand on the desk have been made of blood and bone, she would have been drumming her nails upon it. The short back-and-forth between Rolodex and the medic, Medic (which was not the most elaborate of code names, but effective enough) was sufficient to poke the limits of Thalia's patience. Her expression testified to exactly that. At least they were moving. 

	When it looked like Medic was taking the situation seriously, after enough information was communicated by Rolodex, Thalia was a touch more satisfied to note that the man was moving in a more productive manner. Quickly following behind, she barely recognized when the highly unnecessary "After ya," hit her ears; like hell she was going to slow down for the purposes of some useless piece of etiquette when one of her friends was laying on the floor hurt. Thalia didn't have many friends. She tended to push people away before they got the chance to get comfortable. So when people got through her defenses, she was a loyal, if not always nice, friend to them. 

	But even that wasn't foremost on Thalia's mind right then. What was centered somewhere around putting one foot in front of the other to get down the stairs, her artificial hand leaving a sliding, metallic sound on the handrail in her wake. She was practically boring holes in the back of his head. Mild irritation kicked up when Medic stuck his head in the wrong room. How dare he not be psychic and know automatically which one was the correct room? Disgraceful. Finally, they got to the right room. Thalia gave note to the man props, he was acting in the manner of a medical professional. Quick introduction, immediately getting to the point with questioning. She kept her gaze on the man for a little bit longer, eyeing him as if he might suddenly change his mind about helping Alexander and needed to be pulled off of him. It was a silly notion, but one of many "what could go wrong" contingency musings of the hour. Not wanting to get in the way but wishing to be vocal about her underlying concern, Thalia squatted down on the other side of Alexander and said to Medic, [color=dc143c]"Lemme know if I can do anything,"[/color] in a clear but subdued voice.