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[h3][color=00aeef][i][b]Emanuel "Manny" Newman[/b][/i][/color][/h3]
[i][b][color=00aeef]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Apartment 1D
[i][b][color=00aeef]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	Manny now refreshed as he could be stood up, posture straitened, and figured it was time to set the day back on track. On his to do list now, the court martial for sure, a proper apology to Alexander, and if time allowed, lunch would be decent. If not, he would see what he could grab after the trial. He may just have to wait for dinner, which wouldn't be the end of the world. He then paused, realizing the irony of that thought. 

	He froze for a moment, hearing the sound of the door unlocking and opening. At first he was confused, had Alexander or one of his other roommates already returned? He supposed it wasn't too far out of the question, stopping by before the trial was to take place. Or maybe returning to avoid it all together. He turned to face those entering, only to be stunned seeing Alexander and Freeman. Giving it a moment's thought, he realized it wasn't too far out. Though Freeman seemed like his heart was in the right place, so it made sense he helped Alexander get back to his housing. Manny said nothing at first, letting them finish up what they were saying this time. And he waited for Freeman to exit before turning to Alexander.

	It took a moment for Manny to gather his thoughts, but eventually he composed himself enough to speak. "[color=00aeef]I wanted to apologize for earlier. I don't know what happened, a lapse in judgement or... god forbid old age catching up to me. But, I messed up earlier. And I wanted to say sorry. If... you want to keep talking with Freeman, I can leave? And maybe you guys can talk here where it may be more comfortable? The recliners do seem pretty comfortable.[/color]" It was a serious offer. Manny messed up earlier, and wanted to help however he could. "[color=00aeef]If it would be easier, I could run after him and you could take a moment to sit down? Or... Just sitting works. If quiet would be better right now.[/color]" Even though Manny still struggled with it, he understood that sometimes a quiet moment helped more then talking it out. Sometimes a quiet moment alone did better.


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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 ate his food in silence as he contemplated his situation some more. He found himself stuck with the same thoughts. What he would do if he lost Izibell. What he would do if he stayed, or how he could even hope to recover from the damage that had been done. Stuck with the same thoughts of how he could even hope to function as a member of society if there was even a place for him in it. He thought about his first day working, and wondered if a day like that was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life. With Izibell, he could pull it off. How long would that be though? She was getting older now, though she didn't show it as obviously as many other older dogs there were signs here and there. The first being, she had been rather well trained long before she arrived to Hunter. She didn't have that same energy you get with young dogs either. The constant playing, the constant chewing. Her definition of play consisted of the occasional run, the even more rare tug of war, and playful chewing from time to time. 

	He looked at her and rubbed her head a bit. After downing her food she had made her way onto the bed again and started to rest. Though she was still rather active, she was still very much for her naps and rest. Rubbing her, it wasn't too hard to notice the few hairs starting to grey. Not a lot, and barely noticeable unless you're looking for it. He wondered what age that put her at? He had dogs growing up who were well over 10 years old with much more noticeable greying fur, and some on his family property that even at six years old didn't show any greying fur. So seven? Maybe eight? He wondered how much time that gave her if that was the case. It didn't help his problem solving that he didn't know if Izibell was pure breed or if one of her parents were. Realistically, he had seen dogs live up to 15 years if not a little older if they were well taken care of. He thought about that. Cleaning toilets and other public buildings until then. He figured that is something he could do. Then he'd figure out his next step when that time came, assuming he made it that far.

	Cage returned at some point, but Hunter deep in his thoughts didn't notice the man at first. It wasn't until he spoke that Hunter nearly jumped off the bed in surprise fork in hand. Stopping himself part way up he sat back down looking at his warden. "[color=00a651]Uhh... About yeah.[/color]" Hunter took his fork and instead of using it as a potential weapon, used it to finish off his food. Once done, he put his items back on the tray and slide it out to Cage. Then. froze for a moment with more thoughts on his mind. "[color=00a651]Anything else I gotta know before we go? Like... uh...[/color]" He froze. He knew little about trials, laws, or anything in those regards other then what high school history classes showed him. And most of that just focused on the constitution itself as well as specific laws. Here? He had little hope that would help. "[color=00a651]Should I wear a suit or something?[/color]" He spoke it like it was a joke, but there was a look in his face where he was clearly wondering if that was the case if he should be wearing one. His expression died for a moment thought as he thought about that. "[color=00a651]wait... I don't own a suit. Fuck.[/color]" He thought about his uniform, the closest to a suit he owned. One of the few things he still owned actually. He figured it wouldn't work like that. But he was stressed and clinging to what little threads of control he thought he had left to try and keep himself calm. It was little help, but a huge choice was about to be made about his life, and he felt powerless to effect it.