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[h3][color=00aeef][i][b]Emanuel "Manny" Newman[/b][/i][/color][/h3]
[i][b][color=00aeef]Location:[/color][/b][/i] General housing (X)/Apartment 1D
[i][b][color=00aeef]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	It was nice to talk to another person around his age, as well as someone who had experience in what he was going through. "[color=00aeef]So do you mainly do hair stuff or do you do you get jobs done in other areas?[/color]" Thinking about it, Manny did wonder if his hair could use some work on it. He had done some basic cutting jobs while on the road, but nothing that great. Mostly cut jobs to keep his hair short enough so he wouldn't have to braid it, or so it wouldn't block his eyes. "[color=00aeef]I do hope you're right on the getting easier part. I was kind of hoping my time on the road would have kept me in shape to handle something like this still but... I seem to have been wrong.[/color]" Who knows, maybe Manny had longer then he thought for himself before his age put him in a hard place? He really did hope shears was correct in those regards. He had seen was age had done to his older friends, those who had found themselves in nursing homes or those who had to be taken care of by spouses and children. That wasn't a life he wanted. He didn't want himself to fall so low.

	It did make him think of what things could be like if he were allowed to set up shop. How many people would he see in a day? What other tasks would he end up with on top of his general tasks as a dentist? At his age would he need to take on an apprentice? It left him with many questions. Part of him wondered if it would be like one of those old street shops where his place of work would be on the first floor and his home would be on the floor above or if he would be grouped in with the medical team as well. Those would all have to be things figured out in time. Manny would continue some banter with shears for a while more before getting up to grab a book from the book shelf. "[color=00aeef]It's getting late. Let's find a better time to chat some more, the conversation was nice.[/color]" The day had clearly worn out the old dentist. Even though he made it to his room fine, he had set himself up to read the random book he selected, and found himself crashing rather fast  barely getting a couple pages into his new book.


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[h3][color=00a651][i][b]Hunter Monroe[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=00a651]Location:[/color][/b][/i]  Jail (AA) Cell B
[i][b][color=00a651]Skills:[/color][/b][/i]N/A
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	Hunter found himself unsure of how to take the following series of events. He still felt cornered in his cell, but he didn't feel as threatened as he had before. "[color=00a651]Sorry... wasn't my intention.[/color]" Hunter was actually curious if he had messed up somewhere else, half expecting it to be the fork in his hand. He noticed Roy taking a look at his fork every now and again. And he debated what he would do if Ray had asked Hunter give it up. On one hand, it made him a target and a potential threat. On the other hand, it was his last line of defense if everything went to shit. Thankfully, Roy didn't ask and Hunter didn't have to make that choice yet. What really got him, was Roy asking him to open up. This clear hit Hunter in a way he wasn't ready to face. Clearly confused he sat back on his bed a little messing with his fork like an anxious kid with a pencil. "[color=00a651]I...[/color]" Hunter found himself surprisingly at a loss for words. He hesitated for what seemed like forever to think of the words. He considered what was worth saying, if this was someone he could trust opening up too, and what kind of person he was, and how he would react to some of it. "[color=00a651]I'm... tired.[/color]" His posture shifted from a hesitant and anxious towards defeated and on his last legs. "[color=00a651]I'm just... tired man. I'm tired, of being scared of the people around me.[/color]" His breathing shifted now too, it went from quiet short bursts, and had moved onto more audible deeper breaths.

	Hunter stayed sitting on the bed, but shifted enough to gently set the fork down by his side and bring his hands back to his lap. "[color=00a651]I am tired of being used for someone else's gains. I am tired of having a gun to the back of my head, and every time I finally get one off there's another one to take its place! And each time it's from people who are supposed to be on my fucking side and it just keeps happening! It happened when the army tore itself apart as we fucking butchered each other, it happened with Don and his band of shitholes, and it happened with...[/color]" He stopped. He found himself locking the fingers of his hands together as he calmed himself down a bit. He felt like he started getting into territory he wasn't ready to share yet. And information that others likely would never want to hear. "[color=00a651]So... so many of those red flags the army started showing in those final days are visible here. And I can't tell if that is my mistrust, or the mistrust of those in charge. And that is fucking terrifying.[/color]" He slowed his breathing to a quieter tone breaking eye contact with Roy. "[color=00a651]And it's tiring. And I am just ready for it to stop. I just want it... to stop. I want to be able to relax, and not have to suspect that every person is trying to do something shitty or horrible but that feeling never fucking stops and I don't know how to fucking stop it.[/color]" He wasn't sure what had gotten to him. He didn't know Roy, not really. And here? Shy of the details, he had just caved the list of things going on in his mind that had been pressuring him to keep going step by step. Maybe it was because Roy was strait forward, or maybe it was because he had already found himself worn down and looking for an out. Or maybe that chat with Ashton, someone who actually had an idea what he went through in those early days had done more for Hunter then he realized. But even now, even though he felt defeated, he felt some of those walls wearing away inside his mind. 

	He felt weak for a bit there, and felt like he was burnt out now. Cage had made his way down the stairs, and seeing with him.. Izibell? Hunter's heart started racing. His first thought raced towards some kind of trick, but what trick could be up here? His mind went to worst case scenario, but he blocked that out when Cage asked Roy to leave. Hunter turned towards Roy to say something, but he couldn't think of what to say beyond a simple "[color=00a651]bye.[/color]". He choked a little, then Cage opened the cell to let Izibell in. He got off his bed and to his knees to hug the big furry ball of muscle and fur as she found herself happy to see her friend. She even found herself patient with his rather aggressive hugging and put up with it even though she wasn't a clear fan. He let go to find her licking his face. "[color=00a651]I know I know I'm sorry I'm sorry.[/color]" He smiled as he playfully pushed her head away and she kept turning back to lick and play chew his face. "[color=00a651]God you're so gross.[/color]" He said it with a laugh as he looked up to Cage, clearly confused by the man. Part of Hunter wanted to stop what he was doing and thank the man. Cage listed off how things would work with Izibell until further noticed, and Hunter found himself shy on words again. When he finished, Hunter was only able to bring up a couple words. "[color=00a651]Thank you...[/color]" His tone was quiet, almost as if he feared being too loud. 

	He'd rough up his dogs fur a little more  after Cage left, and before going to bed. He grabbed the fork before laying down, and would set it off to the side and out of the way so that he nor Izibell would accidentally land on it in their sleep. he also attempted to have Izibell sleep at his feet during the night, but she decided to shift herself during the night between the wall, and himself pushing him to the near edge. He found himself having to adjust more then once in the night, but the nightmares were less severe tonight. A few harsher moments, but none lasting as like many harsher nights Izibell would help him out of it. First step down, now to sort out his own problems.