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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 (Outside Camp Mexico Beach)
[i][b][color=00aeef]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	The bus trip felt very much like the first day in camp. With the exception that there was a fraction of the amount of people. Then with a rough head count, he figured it might not be a fraction. But definitely less then last time. He was glad he got a bit of a response out of Thalia. He wondered what was going through her mind at that moment? There was no real way to tell as he himself couldn't figure out what was going through his own mind in terms of thoughts and emotions. Sure, he felt a bit of sadness, but he didn't know any of the people that were being buried, and he had only seen one of them alive and that was only for a few moments. Was it guilt? That didn't seem right either. They didn't die for [i]Him[/i]. They died to defeat Eden. Yet, their deaths were the main reason he was alive. If they didn't fight and die everything Manny did to try and escape would have been for nothing, and probably would have only made things worse. Infact, looking back he wouldn't be sure if he could have worked himself up enough to try for a break. That didn't even account for the people who were also prisoners, who had most likely died before him. Those that had been tortured while Manny waited for his turn in line. It just as easily could have been one of them who had taken his place. Maybe he would have been forced to fight to the death, or go through one of the other many things that had been going on. He never did really learn all of it. And apart of him, never wanted to find out.

	It felt like trading lives. Lola had died before the group made it to Manny, and Manny chose to save Thana over Gavin. eventually leading to his death. That didn't even account for the many times it had happened before, in past groups when supplies ran out, or when the choice had to be made to save one's self, or try for one last attempt to save someone else. He hoped things in this new world wouldn't need to call for that anymore. No more Trading lives.

	Manny needed a distraction from his grim thoughts. And honestly? What better way to do that then with guns. The rules were as simple as most common gun safety tips. Tips Manny had been following for longer then some people on the bus had probably been alive. The don't screw us over comment made Manny uneasy though. Not because he had plans to screw anyone over, but the implication of throwing a living person into a put of walkers seemed... wrong. Sure, trying to screw over the people who gave you a meal and shelter was a poor choice, but he hoped that was an intimidation trick, or at worst a short term need rather then what was just thought of as the solution to stopping problems forever. He thought that was odd, if something were to go wrong he didn't flinch at the idea of a bullet being put in someone's head, but a pit of walkers got his attention. He thought about it, and figured maybe it seemed more humane to just put a hostile person down rather then put them through unneeded suffering. He wondered how much of that was him trying to see the best of things, and how much of it was his youth starting to show in a world where a younger Manny would survive a hell of a lot better then an older Manny.

	Stopping himself before he fell too deep into his thoughts he accepted his temporary firearm. Nothing fancy, a simple double barrel shotgun. "[color=00aeef]Thank you.[/color]" He said before carefully accepting it. His first goal was to make sure it was unloaded. No need to have it loaded now, and the nice thing about break actions is that while they are open the shells can be dropped in rather easy. He has a box of a few more shells to go with it as well. Again, not a lot, but considering they had armed guards, he figured that it was meant to be a last line of defense should all hell go loose. Two shots. If things were done correctly, that would be two kills against the un-dead in a single moment. If not, it was a second chance to correct a first mistake in a split second choice. Or in the cases like he had seen at the shooting range, someone grips the triggers wrong, and fires both barrels at once to try and hit one target. You don't get extra points for blasting the same head off twice. 

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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) --> Inside Jail 
[i][b][color=00a651]Skills:[/color][/b][/i]N/A
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	Maybe it wasn't an achievement to be proud of, but Hunter had successfully gone somewhere none of the other new comers has been able to go to yet. Ignoring the context of why he was there, he thought it was kind of neat. With the context, he was going to have to do what he could to salvage the situation. No matter how things went now, it was a loss. But if he played what few cards he did have right, he figured it may not be a total loss. Even better, something to recover from. He found it odd how surprised people were to the list of things he did. Sure, he got wasted and said a lot more words then he should have, but it was also an open bar, where he and the bartender overestimated how much he could take. There was something about waste, but he didn't remember much of that so he couldn't say much about that. There was being late by roughly 5 minutes, which he figured wasn't bad considering it was the first actual schedule he had been apart of in five years and his first day back on one. And, needing a reminder to pick up the dog poop. The first time he had needed to in... also about five years. But he still did it and was thankful for the reminder. Though there was the times he had cussed out quiet a few people. Even then, the reactions he was getting from his sheet seemed much. He wondered if there was more going on there then he knew about. Did he try to fight someone last night? Or was this based off the look in his eye again?

	There was talk about which cell to put him in, and blame being put on him that it needed to be done and wasn't. "[color=00a651]Doesn't seem fair to blame me. It wasn't my job to clean it, and I didn't make it messy.[/color]" Sure it was meant for him, but it wasn't his fault that it wasn't clean. Honestly he wouldn't mind cleaning it to keep from being bored, but he had no plans to be blamed for something he didn't do. He was starting to appreciate Roy though. He figured the man probably didn't like him, but he at least didn't seem to treat him like the lowest of scum, and helped clarify things to Hunter. Clarification was nice. It was nice to know that Cage didn't mean medical in general. Under most cases he would see that as a dick move of someone who can't be bothered, but at least they let him have that choice should he choose it. He wasn't sure if that was a victory or not. Either way, he found Roy decent. He felt professional enough without making things personal.

	The house was nice enough, but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to be a roaming prisoner in this place with access to the tv. Those fears were correct when he saw the steel door. He had to stop himself from muttering "Fuck buckets" out loud. Though his mouth did open a bit in wonder as he looked at the door, and the stairs that came after it. "[color=00a651]Huh...[/color]" It was a curious thought. Sure, he was no structural engineer, but he didn't think anywhere in Florida had a basement? His thoughts weren't on what was below, just that there was a below. But the more he thought about it, he has been places before in the area with basements. Sure, not Florida itself, but pretty close. So he figured it made sense now that he thought about it. 

	Realizing though that this basement was his prison he refocused himself. The only relevant thought he could pull to his head was "Welcome Home Hunter, should have worked on those people skills last time".