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[h3][color=4682b4][i][b]Ash Holloway[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=4682b4]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Jail (AA)
[i][b][color=4682b4]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/6ZrqbnS/Ash-FC-3.jpg[/img][/right]
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	The expectation of how the conversation was going to go was different than what actually went down. To his credit, Ash felt like he might have overstepped his position in CMB, that being that he didn't have one aside from pushing a mop. Some instincts were hard to break, and he was ever the Captain, even if the military he belonged to technically didn't exist anymore. But to point, Ash expected this to turn into a bigger piece of drama from which he would have to remove himself, then brood over later on as a mistake initiated by his own sense of self-righteousness. But it didn't. Ash vaguely heard Ted say something comparing him to Thana's uncle, then the sound of the tooth hitting the inside of the bucket. Mostly, he was looking at the expression on Hunter. When the younger man spoke, it took Ash by surprise. He waited quietly until Hunter finished speaking, then nodded with a glimpse of understanding. 

	There was not an immediate response. Instead, Ash took two steps over to the rest of the cleaning supplies and gathered up a few things. Returning to his original spot, the now tired-looking Sapper continued doing what he was here to do, cleaning the gore from the jail's flooring. As he swept up bits of brain and scrubbed out blood (tasks that might have been strange, even brutally disgusting a few years ago), he started to address some of Hunter's points. Not the least of which was the fact that his first assignment was ...this... He spoke quietly but clearly, letting his voice come from a place of experience. [color=4682b4]"So you lost your shit. Cussed out folks. Join the goddamned club. We're printin' t-shirts."[/color] His Virginian accent stayed with his words, though in a softer tone than the rant before. Ash sighed heavily, shaking his head and cleaning still. [color=4682b4]"But I don't have to care 'bout you personally to sympathize. I get it. You went through Basic, MOS 11B, Infantry (if I'm correct)? Break you down, build you up, make you feel invincible. It doesn't stop that first assignment from bein' scary as hell, and [i]your[/i] first one's the goddamn end of the world. War of attrition against our own Dead. Folks we played cards with yesterday. People we passed on the street. At first, they just look like they're really sick an' need our help. But if you don't pull the trigger, you're a dead man. Or worse."[/color] 

	Ash straightened up from where he was kneeling. With gloved hands, he carefully squeezed red-tinged water and cleaning solution into the bucket and returned to scrubbing. He also returned to speaking. [color=4682b4]"I remember when it started to get really bad. Communication went down. Dead began to outnumber living. I saw the Army break into factions and turn on each other. What you stepped into wasn't the military anymore, Hunter. It was a bunch of scared men an' women in green with access to automatic weapons, didn't know a damn thing 'bout what was goin' on around them. What they got here? That's a little more what it's supposed to be like. Now, I don't know what shit you did to make it up to this point. We all had to do the worst things just to survive. I know I did. If I didn't have people around me that I trusted, loved, that had my back? Well, I've seen the dark places a man can go. I considered eating a bullet a couple of times an' I've taken more lives after than I ever did in the Army. I can sympathize 'cause I know where you're at. You're [i]lost[/i]."[/color] 

	Blowing out a sigh, Ash rose from his position and inspected the floor. He grabbed a mop and wrung it out, then slapped it to the floor with a wet splat, eager to finish up. [color=4682b4]"Well congratulations. You pulled the trigger. You survived. You have to fight just to do that. But if you only survive for yourself, you're going to stay lost. Yeah, you had a bad day. Your week wasn't so hot, neither. Pissed off a lot of folks, me included. You aren't dead, Monroe. You're not done yet until you give up."[/color] Ash finished mopping up and started to put his supplies back, continuing, [color=4682b4]"Look, I'm not saying we're going to be best buds or nothin'. But I hope you'll be here after you get out. That's still partly up to you."[/color] Ash shrugged. [color=4682b4]"I think."[/color] He shook his head, waving a thought away. [color=4682b4]"You're still around after this, I'll tell you about the shitstorm I was in when this started five years back. Maybe [i]you'll[/i] sympathize."[/color] 

	 Ash looked over the job, cleaning up bloodstains and bits of a dead guy he'd never met, and over to Ted. [color=4682b4]"We good here?"[/color] He had places to be, but doing a good job was priority. Developing a reputation for work ethic was an important first step for Ash in this new community. So after assessing for himself, he wanted to get the opinion of the guy who'd been here for longer. 




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[h3][color=dc143c][i][b]Thalia Carmichael[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=dc143c]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Education (M)
[i][b][color=dc143c]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	[color=dc143c]"Dummel,"[/color] remarked Thalia, as if committing the name to memory. Not that she was, though it might seem that way to an onlooker. Just a minor habit of thinking out loud, and at that moment she was thinking that the guy gave her another clue as to the general persona of this professor she was looking for. Perhaps she shouldn't have paused to size the guy up, or tilt her head ever so slightly to the side to do the same for the girl who pulled him back down to his seat, but what was done was done. It seemed surreal, like a slice out of her life back in college. It gave her the vaguest impression of a group of people who forgot what was lurking outside of their walls; threats both living and deceased. For all she knew, these people were the elite future of Camp Mexico Beach and she was just some asshole who recently sullied their hallowed home with her presence. Whatever. Didn't matter. She had a series of tasks to complete and this kid throwing her a smartassed salute wasn't going to damage her calm. 

	Thalia resumed her pace down the hallway. It seemed a little too easy, just putting one foot in front of the other to reach an objective that lay in a obvious direction. She tried to keep her expression blank and allow her eyes to search for names or anything else of the like on signs or doors, but quickly abandoned the idea after honestly wondering if the name she was given was going to actually be a callsign utilized in a a place where kids learned. At least Thalia had the decency to keep from saying it out loud and the carefully trudged down the hallway. That was, right up until she caught Thana leaning against the door frame, down the hall a ways. 

	Carefully and quietly, Thalia approached her friend, [color=dc143c]"Hey Navy. Real quick, your tio Maddoc sent me here to find  [i]una Profesora Coño[/i]."[/color] She knew that Thana had a good enough read on Spanish and figured that it would soften the message as well as carry the proper intent across. That, and it sounded like the worst luchadora name [i]ever[/i].