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[h3][color=00aeef][i][b]Emanuel "Manny" Newman[/b][/i][/color][/h3]
[i][b][color=00aeef]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Bus
[i][b][color=00aeef]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	All things considering, the funeral detail wasn't going too bad. Manny had to hold back a laugh after Alexander's comment about Manny's made up position. "[color=00aeef]Assistant cleaning director. I haven't gotten that promotion just yet. Given time, I believe I can make it to Senior cleaning director of the interior of boats with out too much fuss.[/color]" It was a simple joke, but the little ones were nice for keeping up the day to day life. To help enjoy the little things just that much more. They made, great memories.

	When everyone started loading up Manny made his way in. Normally he would sit by his fellow baby boomer and have a nice conversation about all the things old people talk about. But, looking around he noticed Thalia with that nice reassuring look. It was a good sign, but he worried about her. She reminded him in many ways what he was like when he was her age. Or... probably younger. It slipped him sometimes how there were people that were less then half his age, but still fully matured adults. With Beatrice leaving though, and Thana not present, he could only imagine what that was like for Thalia. Knowing the girl wasn't too personal, he wanted to check up on her without getting to... Personal. Instantly, the same seat seemed like a bad idea. The guards and Padre were starting to make their way onto the bus. He had to think fast. He sat in the seat across from her, as it was close enough to talk if she wanted, or to at the very least let her know he was there if needed.

	He sat and in a surprisingly monotone voice spoke quietly to Thalia. "[color=00aeef]Hey.[/color]" For those who knew him, and knew his normally positive attitude, this tone was different. Sure, he could get loud if he wanted. He had even lost his temper a bit in quarantine. But nothing extreme. Pretty much every other time he spoke it was with a bit of cheerfulness of a doctor who was getting ready to pull out a tooth that you both knew would hurt like hell but no one wanted to admit it. Keep his hand back so it could not be seen from the seats behind or in front of them, he did a couple simple hand motions. One pointing towards her, and then shifting it to a thumbs up with a bit of a questioning look on his face. He had a feeling that if something was up she wouldn't tell. But again, sometimes just letting someone know you were there could be enough. Though he had learned a bit too, that many of the people in his old group liked their space. And hopefully the middle lane of the bus was enough for now. And if not, he would get the message and try to keep more distance. But, being the stubborn old man he was, he refused to ever be out of sight for long. He had seen people push others away in the past, to the point of self destruction.

	The bus made its way out of the camp. There were worries about the walkers, talk of the guards and escorts being armed and... Were they going to be armed? That made Manny think for a moment. He figured chances are it would be something simple like knives or something else along those lines. He didn't think they were ready to offer them up guns yet. Guns were a big deal, and sure he would feel safer with one in his hands. Especially one like the one he had been practicing with for the longest portion of his life, but having a means to defend one's self was nice. Though he hadn't used a knife since he picked up target shooting. Not like this. Not really. And he was getting old. And sadly getting old wasn't great for that kind of combat. But, they were going in with a rather large group of people. Many of whom were good fighters, and with that, the escorts had guns. Plus, a bus with a rather strong air conditioning. Which Manny liked that it existed. Hopefully he wouldn't get so used to it the heat was unbearable.


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[h3][color=00a651][i][b]Hunter Monroe[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=00a651]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Outside Jail (AA)
[i][b][color=00a651]Skills:[/color][/b][/i]N/A
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	To say the day was getting interesting was an understatement. It was like all of Hunter's fuck ups were catching up to him all at once, but not in the way he had expected. The group of guards and Hunter had made their way to what Hunter assumed was some kind of prison hut like house. He had seen jails, but this didn't look like one. Granted it was probably hard to get appearances when you were limited to mostly houses. Soon enough though what Hunter presumed to be his warden walked up to them. Roughly his height, and Hunter figured if things went south he could take him in a fight. If he was in the condition he was two years ago. Now he would be at a disadvantage in his severely starved state. Hunter watched the man with curiosity, holding back his internal thoughts for the moment, and doing his best to hide his discomfort. Not because the man himself made Hunter uneasy, but more of Cage reminded him of someone he knew once. If that someone had aged a lot of years and had lost what charisma he had left. 

	The rules seemed simple enough, but he did take note of the bleeding out comment. Hunter had a long list of thoughts he wished to give the man. Not just because of his resemblance to the past, but how a comment from a warden like figure here was made, and the only comment against it was how rude it was. But he held off, that one comment was at least a little reassuring in a moment where he didn't have much to hope for. It did piss him off how someone like that could say a comment that to Hunter's best understanding sounded like criminal negligence. Borderline manslaughter. He couldn't tell if it was just an intimidation tactic or not. Seemed like a pretty harsh one considering even in military terms, it was a war crime if he did those actions. Hell, he could understand a comment like getting his teeth kicked in if he acted out. Or making out with an overly aggressive baton if he gave a wrong look. But threatening to withhold aid if he was injured? Bleeding out specifically? Maybe this was someone who just enjoyed his little position of power a little too much. Or maybe he just couldn't be bothered to do more then the bare minimum. 

	Hearing he would be stuck in a cell for a week was a less then pleasant thought. But as long as every person he talked to wasn't like Cage he figured he could put up with it. Maddoc did the paperwork, and now Hunter was an official prisoner of Camp Mexico Beach. Then in 3-7 days it would be decided if he was to stay or get kicked out. Either way, he had lost Izibel, and the people here would never trust him. Maybe some would tolerate him. If he stayed, he wouldn't get much say in any part of his day to day life. Even more so then before. He thought about it more and more... and the main reason he was staying... was a chance to not fuck up for once. And to stay with Izibel. Both, had now been removed from the equation. Added with punishments went rather extreme rather fast, he had little hope things would recover from here. Drunk and disorderly, a few minutes late for his shift on his first day, late picking up the dog poop, and being a bit too confrontational and a bit of an ass. But it seemed pretty common for that last trait here. Just in different ways. He knew he was hard to deal with, and normally because of that he left people alone. A lot harder to do here. But he struggled to see how that warranted Cage's comment.

	He would try to let it go. But not knowing if it was just giving off steam or being honest, it was an iffy situation. He would understand if he had attacked someone, killed someone, stole supplies, or even threatened. But damn. He wondered how a man like that ever got to a position of power. Even if it was just watching over normally empty cells. He tried not to think too much about it. He would have time to think in lockup. And who knew, maybe there would actually be something to do in prison other then being left alone with his thoughts.