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[h3][color=00aeef][i][b]Emanuel "Manny" Newman[/b][/i][/color][/h3]
[i][b][color=00aeef]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Education Center
[i][b][color=00aeef]Skills:[/color][/b][/i] N/A
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	It was clear the day was taking a toll of Alexander. It was on Manny, but hearing his testimony earlier it appeared that this was something personal to the old veteran. Manny wished he could understand it better, but there were probably a lot of deep memories that he couldn't even begin to understand with his fellow baby boomer. But he thought he had some understanding. Hunter was a troubled former soldier who had a long list of fuckups and appeared to have no ability to deal with the consequences of it afterwards. Either the direct effects, or the other people around them. His poor social edicate only made things worse from there. Alexander on the other hand? Other then knowing he had served years ago, and like many vets of the era they had faced backlash from the public, and were misused by their own governments on countless occasions during and after the war. Manny never being a soldier could never truly understand those struggles though. Only what he heard from those around him. Alexander though, saw a bit of himself in Hunter as the boy fumbled around making things worse for himself. But Manny could see the kind of man Alexander was now. If the man could see a bit of himself in Hunter that had to be a half decent sign right?

	Manny turned to ask Alexander a question, only to be interrupted by a loud series of noises that could only be described as a Fuster Cluck. The thud and the string of swearing in a split second sentence pulled Manny's attention towards the back of the room, where a followup sound that could only be described [i]defeat[/i] in its final form. Who at the center of it though, other then Thalia. The poor woman despite her best efforts found herself the center of attention yet again. After excusing herself and leaving in a justifiable hurry Manny could only mutter. "[color=00aeef]She seems to be having a rather rough day herself.[/color]" Manny being the person he was wanted to help her, but he knew there was nothing he could do in this case other then to just pretend like it never happened. This was a case where acknowledging it only made it worse. He turned his head away attempting to put his thoughts back in place to where they were before the fuster cluck. He realized he was going to ask his fellow baby boomer a question but in the chaos of Thalia's exit, he had forgotten it. He hoped it wasn't anything important, but he didn't think it was.

	Hunter was brought back onto the stage, and the trial was coming to a close. [b]Guilty.[/b] Manny couldn't say he was surprised. The boy had fucked up on every single account. It was just the decision of how he should be treated for his crimes. The General explained the bind he was in, as despite the issues Hunter has presented for himself he hadn't gone into some breaking point yet of causing harm to another person. But it was still a risk of keeping him around. Manny did not envy the man's position but he did respect the man for taking that responsibility. He respected the man for not leaning towards the death penalty on the possibility of what Hunter might be, while acknowledging he was still a risk. The result though? He gave Hunter the choice. He knew the final decision would be a hard one but that was not something he had expected. Stay, but in the ward to be watched and reexamined. Or be banished, but sent so far away with both the Appalachian mountains and the Mississippi river as barriers. The river alone would be a barriar of it's own. With few bridges long enough to span it outside of cities which would be flooded with the undead, the river alone would prove nearly impossible for a single person to cross. And he had little reason to believe Hunter had the social skills to be able to cross with people who would not only have a boat, but have reason to cross. The choice was Hunter's to make though in the end.


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[h3][color=00a651][i][b]Hunter Monroe[/b][/i][/color][/h3][i][b][color=00a651]Location:[/color][/b][/i] Education Center
[i][b][color=00a651]Skills:[/color][/b][/i]N/A
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	Hunter listened as Joaquin spoke. "[color=00a651]I've... tried.[/color]" He wasn't sure how else to put it. "[color=00a651]It's...[/color]" He hesitated. He didn't want to give off the wrong message, or sound like he was brushing off what Joaquin said. "[color=00a651]It's hard to know when to act, and when not too.[/color]" Today's trial showed very well Hunter's ability to over react to problems. Over think himself to the point where he'd cling to a few words, and see that as the only reality. There had been a time when it had been the total opposite end of the spectrum. Where he'd stand back, let things happen until the damage was so catastrophic that there was no recovering from it. His mind kept going back towards Don and his group. How when given the chance to end things, stop the damage before it was made worse. He froze. Pistol drawn, aiming down the sights, the look of surprise on Don's face as he stared down the barrel of his pistol. Then the change of expression to anger as he stomped over taking his gun, and shoved him down. He wondered if faced with that situation now if he would have pulled the trigger before Don had the chance to turn around, let alone walk up to him.

	He had no idea now. He didn't know for sure if what he was doing now was overcompensation for his lack of actions years ago or if his ability to face problems only showed itself when it was a none issue, or when he was backed into a corner he couldn't pull himself out of by ignoring the problem any longer. Either way it was a problem. A problem he couldn't avoid, nor face head on like he had with previous problems. The lack of a problem for him, was a problem in many ways. It felt like that meant there was one, but he couldn't see it. Except in this case, it turned out to be himself, dragging down everyone else with him. He thought back to Tatiana. How she wanted him dead. How in her eyes, he was to her, as Don was to him. The main difference being she knew when to keep quiet, and if given the chance, she seemed like she wouldn't hesitate. The time for dwelling was over though. It was time to return to face his final sentence. He hesitated again, stopping behind the door for a moment unable to leave the confines of the restroom and its relative safety from his consequences. He shook himself out of it and worked himself to face this. "[color=00a651]...okaay...[/color]" He returned without another word. He glanced at Cage, wanted to take the chance to say something. But nothing in the end as he had no idea what to say to the man.

	Guilty. Even he could have guessed that. He expected nothing less then that. What mattered was the consequences for his crimes. What also stuck with him was that there was no one to vouch for him. No one that knew him outside of the last few weeks he had been either in lock up or quarantine. It was the same the other direction for Hunter. Despite some people seeming trustworthy, how well did he know any of them? Granted, they weren't the ones who were in suspect for being a threat to the lives of everyone here. Not just the residents, but the newcomers as well. He wasn't a fan of being compared to a toddler, but he kept that to himself. The General seemed conflicted as he spoke. He had no idea what he expected of the man he had never talked to directly outside of this trial. He had heard what other's have had to say about him. The first thing being what Maddoc had told him while in quarantine. This man did not seem to fit that description. Or maybe he had a better poker face then Hunter gave him credit for. Or maybe Maddoc was trying to scare Hunter into submission before releasing him into the crowds? He had no way of knowing in this moment. But the man before him. The General made a point to say he wouldn't be executed. That was reassuring. Then his options were presented to him.

	Hunter's face sunk when he heard the options. They saw him as a dangerous crazy person. So the idea was to lock him where they held the crazy people until they either got better. Or they didn't. And they never left. But like before, he was given an out. A much more restrictive out that put him in a situation he wouldn't know how to face. All he knew about the central states where they wanted to drop him off was that they were sparsely populated compared to much of the east coast. He had nothing that direction in terms of family, or places family might have gone towards if things went wrong. At least in the far north, there was at least his great uncle's property his father had talked about from time to time. But west was an empty start for him, and still no Izibell. But the fact that the man had brought her up made him question, was she still on the table? He wasn't a fan of either option. But the worst option was finally off the table. He let out a weak and strained nervous laughter for a few seconds. Then stopping when it appeared his tired state had hit exhaustion and had no more fumes left to run on. "[color=00a651]Fuck nuggets...[/color]" He muttered to himself. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he stayed, best case he'd be [i]That guy[/i] that parents would warn their kids to stay away from, and people would go out of their way to avoid. But if he left, it would be a totally fresh start. No past to chase, nothing to hold him back other then his own thoughts. He had learned a lot about himself he needed to fix and work on while in his stay in the camp hopefully meaning he'd have a better idea of what to do next time he came across people. But he'd have to be lucky. Luckier then he had been so far to find people who wouldn't shoot him on sight. His luck was running out though. 

	He took a deep breath. "[color=00a651]I'd like the chance to...[/color]" He was scared of fucking up his wording even more then he had already. If the situation wasn't as serious as he was, he imagined it would be a great argument to tell kids to stay in school and not to cheat on your ELA classes. "[color=00a651]I'd like the chance to stay. and uh... improve and fix the wrongs I did.[/color]" Ashton was right. It was a simple jester, but no one had any reason to believe he actually cared about the wrongs he did so far as he was mostly only outspoken about how he was wronged. He hoped he got his message across without it sounding like something he was trying to get by anyone, or as him trying to manipulate the things he had heard today. None of that was his goal. He wanted to do better, but as far as he could tell this was the only way that was happening.