Sigil

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

---

---

Keystone

Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal

---

---

Keystone kicked the kitchen door from the inside let it swing almost completely open before exiting that blessed place of epicurean delights. At least it was recently, seeing as the Crossed Swords wasn't especially known for above average food until the unlikely culinarian made his forced appearance. He wanted the door to be open as wide as possible, considering that he was hauling out a rather large platter of flatware and "fixin's" for the group's upcoming meal. The previously overwhelmed scullion that gave him an assist (whose name he hadn't bothered to ask) followed Keystone out with another, equally as large platter, laden with covered dishes and savory smells.

On the way back to the table with Sana and Nor, Keystone called to Femnal, the proprietor of the establishment. "C'mon over, I saved you a plate. Let's talk. I got good silver for some of your provisions what ain't doin' anybody any good right now, yeah?" Keystone looked to the landing site for his platters of deliciousness - the table - and noted with some disappointment that the ale he requested was absent. "Oy! And bring over that ale I bloody well paid for earlier!" Yes, he distinctly remembered asking for ale and water for the table, lots of both. But that could be easily remedied, by either Femnal or one of his employees that hadn't gone missing. Or himself, if he had a continued lack of bitter and lightly alcoholic beverages on his group's table. Oh yeah, and water, too.

He rested his large platter on the edge of the table, shuffling off flatware and already prepared foodstuffs such as bread and cheese, whole butter and seasonings (salt and minced herbs, mostly). But there was a large serving bowl, which contained the principal reason for entering the kitchen in the first place: Creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. He set a plate in front of Sana and splatted a couple sizeable glops of the starchy heaven upon it, making a deep depression in the mound of off-white with the wooden spoon. Said depression was filled to overflowing with the amber poultry gravy and topped with a sprinkling of fresh, green herbs. Keystone then set a tea saucer with a plentiful helping of salt down next to the plate, intoning, "Not quite rememberin' how you take your 'tatos, Miss Sana. Ought not need the extra," he continued, motioning to the salt at her disposal, "but it's there if you want. Plenty more of them 'tatos and gravy, too."

His platter now clear, he stuck a spoon into the top of Sana's potatoes like a bare flagpole and removed his platter from the table. The scullion, now with room to maneuver, deposited his precious cargo of several mid-rare steaks, many eggs fried with medium consistency yolks and good, solid whites, and lightly roasted winter vegetables. Keystone grunted a quick thanks to his temporary assistant and looked to the Dwarf at the table. "Go ahead and get in on some o'this, if steak & eggs tickles your 'ungry."

Keystone looked to his compromised companion, Sana. "Right, you eat up. I got us a room upstairs - two beds, mind you - should be readying a bath as we speak. Takes time though, so you make with the 'not chewing' and get something solid in ya." As for himself, Keystone settled back into a chair next to the Gypsy-Bard and skewered two steaks, a few eggs, and broke off a sizeable hunk of (hopefully) fresh bread. He intended to eat well and enjoy himself. Little was guaranteed when there existed the high probability of the dead rising from their eternal slumber for the sole purpose of making you dead, as well. Plus, Keystone was a big guy. He had to fuel the fire, as it were. Keystone did notice the abundance of food on the table, yet only the three of them present to eat it. "Hey, where's everybody else?" he asked to no one in particular. No matter, more for him... though they probably should get together at some point in time before long. Survival tactic, and whatnot.

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

---

---

_{"Go forward bravely. Fear nothing. Trust in God; all will be well." - Joan of Arc}

---

Location: Almack's

---

---

Elizaveta's polite refusal of Mary's flask of holy water was mildly surprising, but the reason as to why confirmed something to the young Apostolic that she had suspected for most of the evening so far: Veta was a fighter. Mary said nothing in response to this; she was already focusing her mind and emotion into "work mode", a state in which she maintained an inwardly disciplined demeanor and extremely serene outer face. She did respond to the Grand Duchess by graciously accepting back the flask with a shallow curtsy and calming smile. Slipping it into her cloak, Mary turned her attention to the front of Almack's Assembly Rooms, and those gathered ahead.

"As it pleases Your Grace." she said with a coy smile. Mary almost wished there was some manner of disturbance, just to see the extent of her new friend's abilities and fight alongside her. But these were desires of Pride. Putting innocents in danger purely for the sake of testing one's abilities and those of new companions was foolhardy and selfish. She tucked away such thoughts and mentally returned to the task at hand. When Elizaveta corrected the older man as to Mary's working title (and the portly fellow responded positively to her imperative thusly), Mary gave a quick curtsy, holding her halberd perfectly perpendicular to the ground all the while. It was not Pride to accept the spoken title she had earned from the Church, nor the rank granted personally by the Grand Cross of her Knightly order, so long as she acted in a manner befitting her appointment.

"An honor, Arch Graveolase Buckingham." she spoke in civil, dulcet tones. "Humbly, my Lord, the respectful address of this regal woman is Your Imperial Majesty, or Your Grace. It is her birthright as the daughter of the House of Romanova." She curtsied again, keeping her face neutral. "And you are quite correct, my Lord. There is much work to do."

As if to punctuate her words, a distressed looking Fyror exited the establishment. Elizaveta's keen gaze peered into the depths of the man's eyes, as Mary had witnessed earlier, and the noblewoman's single word appraisal of the situation filled Mary with a sense of curiosity, mixed with partial understanding. "This man is as we are, Your Grace?"

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

---

---

William Harper

---

Location: Retribution, Medical -> Bridge

---

"William Harper, Lieutenant." he answered Dorothy's polite-but-not-quite introduction. "And trust me ma'am, on this vessel? I'm not the one you have to worry about." He flashed a quick smile. "She's in good hands, Dorothy. More or less. We should probably speak later, when you have time, ma'am." This entire situation should have been amazingly stressful for the man, as it was for everyone else, apparently, but for some strange reason, Harper was fully in good spirits. Chipper, even. Minor annoyances of the new "guests" of the Retribution aside, this was turning out to be a very interesting week indeed. Thinking about it, at least in that moment - the worst that could happen to him was that he'd get himself killed. It was preferable to going back to the Halo Mining Colony, or as he preferred to call it, "That Fucking Rock".

Taking an objective look at his own psyche in comparison to the last time he wore an Alliance uniform, Harper began to honestly wonder if the last three years had compromised his sanity. At least somewhat. It was a rather swift reversal of mood; such a thing was not within his character. It didn't used to be, anyway. Maybe he should schedule some quality couch time with a more or less decent head shrinker, which (depending upon how much he chose to disclose) he may or may not have to aerate mercilessly when sessions were over. Yes, that's the kind of thought a sane man would have. Excellent! One step closer to resolving his personal issues. Smiling still, if ever so slightly, He gave the Doctor a quick nod and returned to the hallway.

He snapped himself to the side, allowing Daphne's unrestricted departure from Medical, and briskly followed her up to the Bridge. Upon reaching that hallowed destination, Harper motioned to the Pilot's Chair, and took the secondary position for himself. "For right now, you should just familiarize yourself with the control placement. Some controls are a little more ergonomic than others. This ship technically can be piloted by one person, but secondary systems are better handled by a crew in conjunction with moving space around this girl. Your Firefly, for instance - everything can be accessed from a roomier console. But we've got a hell of a bigger sensor suite in here, internal and external both."

Harper let the newer pilot get a good eyeful, if it was her desire to do so. Otherwise, he kept his voice low and even, continuing his overview of differences between the larger vessel and her more familiar transport ship. "I believe that your Captain wanted me to, in this tutorial, briefly discuss things you should know about this ship now that we're going into our 'night shift'. Today, it's simple. We're on minimum power. Why everything's a little dim. I have the sensors set to passive scans only, with the exception of Proximity Alarms. If we get swept by a long-range, an alarm will go off. He get a weapon or a sensor lock, alarm. Basically, if anything occurs out of place, everyone on the Bridge is going to know, the Captain will know, and..." Harper reached across the main console, removing a small electronic device he then clipped to the front of his uniform. "And now I will know. You can set this for a shipwide alert, but this will suffice. Proximity alarm is the main one. This goes off, we have a fair amount of time to hoof it or prepare to fight."

"Do you have any questions for me?" Yeah, it was an odd week. Might as well embrace it.

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Foy-er -> Hallway just beyond

---

Leaving an artist in the middle of creating art seemed frightfully impolite to the Mercenary Barber. The vision of a head of hair only half cut? It irked him significantly. Foy could almost forgive the indiscretion, almost, considering the overabundance of sound coming from beyond the door to his parlor, in the hallway just nearby. The Shepherd had stood up in the middle of receiving a quality haircut and wandered toward the source of the disturbance, stopped, and began muttering something about Jesus. Foy was displeased.

The dapper man sighed and set down his scissors, then twirled the tips of his well groomed moustache as he strode the few, tiny steps necessary to put him just behind the man, but with a clear view of the scene unfolding and possible execution about to take place. "My, but isn't this a fine How-Do-You-Do? I say, Leviticus," he started, obviously referring to the priest by one of his Bible's divisions, "That Lady-Captain is quite the ravishingly fiery one, is she not? Your crew, sir, most assuredly provides a stimulating atmosphere within which one may ply one's trade."

A flash of creative inspiration came over the Farraday native. "Ah, Captain Crowe? Now, don't do anything as rash as taking your eyes off of your intended, madame. It would lead to an unsporting turn, don't you know? I merely wish to relate that, upon seeing your beauteous, sylvan features and sharp cheekbones, not to mention that you are positively fetching whilst flushed and vibrant with rage, I should adore getting you in my chair, you see."

He was only partially obscured by Atticus, but that part contained a hand that seemed poised to take some manner of action if called upon to do so. Not that he intended to immediately, but while obviously foppish, Foy Coiffeur was no fool. He didn't know this woman, she was pissed, and she had a firearm pointed and at the ready. He would have precious little time to defend himself if she chose another target. "I do believe that you would look absolutely seraphic with a pixie cut, possibly some highlights? Hmm? Think about it, get back with me when you've a moment."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

---

---

Black James(!)

---

Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)

---

---

It was a rare thing for James to be in a room and not be the loud and bombastic center of attention. But this was most definitely not his moment in the sun. Oh no, James was a mere bit player in the great orchestra of Newnan on that evening. The happy couple, Jack and Tatiana, took front row and center in the hearts and thoughts of the community, and rightfully so. There was no sliver of possibility that James had ever imagined himself helping out with a bonafide wedding reception, bu he was sure glad that he had the honor of doing just that.

And of course, there was the coming of another highly unexpected occurrence - Thana Martin. It was pure joy seeing her again, but he could not help but notice a hair of standoffishness. Well, time and the experiences that come along with it have ways of changing people, probably himself included. Again, something bigger and more important than himself today. It seemed like James was marginalized as the handler of yummy foodstuffs, a fate which was just fine with him that evening.

Of course, he needed to eat, too. A number of expert strokes of his knife and serving fork, and James had removed enough sliced and chopped pork to keep the line moving briskly for quite some time. He then located a plate, moved to the other side of the tables, and saw to loading himself down like a death row inmate's last meal setup. Oh, he was going to give the mandatory congratulations to the happy couple, but in the meantime, James was going to scarf down the fruits of his labor. And the vegetables of his labor. And a whole lot of the meats of his labor, too. Yes sir, the indomitable blackneck was going to feast.

James did take some note in two very interesting happenings of the last few minutes, though. Ray's tumble onto the floor, which he viewed with some regret. "Naw, baby. That's good food they's spillin'...." But this was voiced only after he was sure that the pedally challenged survivor was otherwise okay. The next one was the quiet talk that Ash had with Bryn, followed by her exit. There might be something there. But now, there was a party. And Bryn had the tendency to go off on her own a lot, anyway. Maybe it was nothing.

Plate and foamy glass in hand, and wearing that godawful black-and-camo formal suit (and don't forget cowboy hat) James made his way over to a table occupied by Miss Sally, Lyon, and Sana. "Hey hey, y'all mind if I rest my plate here and my ass in front of it? Fella's gotta eat, might as well do it with folks."

---

Ash & Thana

---

Location: Building 7 (Rec Center) -> Building A (Ash's House)

---

---

Thana was grateful that Ash had picked up on her little throat clearing, she didn't want to be there much longer. The day had been eventful enough for her without the wedding. It wasn't that she was the type to not like to be around people but for today she was approaching her maximum. She walked with him over towards the buffet and was glad to finally be able to get food but it seemed that was going to have to wait again. Someone came over and Thana stood there, waiting. Seeing Ash's face drop she wondered what was going on and as he excused himself she gave a light nod of understanding.

Clasping her hands in front of her she watched him as he moved off to speak with someone and continued to watch the scene. It was quick and he was back over to her within a few moments. His face seemed to twist and he looked to have mumbled something to himself as he came back over. She wasn't sure what was going on as her eyes stayed on Ash and not Bryn. That was until he stated his heart was no longer in being there. Her eyes glanced over towards Bryn and she watched as the glass was removed from her sleeve before she was escorted out. That explained it.

"Seems like a good time to go," she said in a quite understanding voice. It didn't feel like things would seem too terribly off if they left. Others were leaving as well, seemed the door was revolving for the reception. Probably for the best. Taking one of the plates she slipped her free arm through his and gestured with her head towards the door. "Ready when you are." She hadn't been expecting to leave this early in the evening but might as well. She didn't know these people, other than James to a certain extent, and it had been a long day. A quiet meal without being introduced to even more people was a good thing in her mind.

The hollow, wooden noise of an artificial limb forcibly losing traction with the floor sounded from nearby, followed by the meaty crumpling sound of a body hitting the floor. Ash's rage-filled internal monologue had paused for a moment while Thana was speaking to him, but now it was fully (if temporarily) waylaid by a mixture of concern for the fallen man and the pleas of his inner twelve-year-old trying to push a snicker past his outer emotional defenses. It was a difficult emotion to describe. Luckily, he didn't have to. Of all people, Ryan offered to help out. After he gave Ray a bit of hassle for his trouble, but still, he offered. The sound caused Thana to look over towards Ray but her face remained stoic as she watched the scene unfold. Her eyes following Ryan as he offered to help after a little heckling.

Ash had no desire to draw more attention to the situation, and so after a couple seconds' view to make sure Ray was more or less alright, he locked eyes with Thana and responded, "Ready as I'm going to be." They had made a quick appearance, given over wedding gifts, and made a few quick introductions before more official business pulled Ash back to the realities of their situation. It was an otherwise satisfactory evening. He would be leaning hard on the community come tomorrow, but for the remainder of this day, he could share a quiet and well prepared meal with a new acquaintance, the rumors for which he would have to hear about for a while yet.

Again arm-in-arm with his Plus One, Ash started toward the front doors. Stepping outside of the doors, Thana glanced over her shoulder and watched the door shut fully before she faced forward again. It was about another two steps before her lips split and she cackled with laughter. Apparently she had found the scene hilarious but managed to hold it in just long enough to get out of eye and ear shot of those inside. People were coming and going but she didn't care at this point if anyone saw her laughter. She could be laughing at anything at this point. Ray falling, a silly thought that just went through her mind, something Ash whispered to her for all anyone knew.

Her eyes watering a bit as she tried to control the rolling laughter and managed to suppress it into a more manageable set of giggles and chuckles. "Sorry Captain, if I held that in any longer my teeth would have exploded," she said letting out a chortling sigh as she spoke.

A smile cracked Ash's face that he wasn't too horribly proud of. Despite the seriousness of his own situation, his voice hinted at restrained humor. "Ma'am, please. It's impolite to laugh at cripples." It seemed the appropriate response at the time, if ever so slightly out of character for him. "Okay, I'm glad I'm not the only one. Still feel like a tool for laughing about it, though." Spontaneous giggling, whatever motivated it, was a rare thing anymore. Sadly, Ash could not participate in it for very log before the weight of his planned re-assertion weighed upon him.

"I don't but then again I always did find humor in the weirdest of places," Thana said trying to stifle her giggles as they continued towards Ash's home. Cocking a brow slightly as his demeanor started to change to the more mundane again. Oh well at least he had cracked a bit of a joke.

"I'm sorry. I'm not really in a joking mood tonight. If it's all right with you, I'd rather get back and have a meal in front of a fireplace."

"Sounds like a plan," she said as she let the humor of the situation slip away as quickly as Ray had landed on his rear-end. Stepping up to his front door she stepped aside so he could unlock it and looked him over. He seemed to want to enjoy himself but kept reigning it back, made her wonder just what was going on. Though she figured it would be best not to ask right then.

The Captain wasted no time, setting his plate down upon the porch furniture and clicking open the door to his home. He motioned for his guest to enter, reclaimed his plate, and followed her in. Thana stepped in and out of the way, glancing around the home before looking over towards Ash. Locking the door back from the interior of his house was a much easier concern with full hands; he merely nudged the latch over until the hollow sound of the bolt's lateral movement found his ears and the latch met with solid resistance. He strode purposefully through the foyer and took a right, finding himself in one of the historic house's sitting rooms, in which lay a vintage furnishings including a couch, two armchairs, and most importantly, a large, framed fireplace.


The lowest of glows was visible from the bed of the fireplace, embers of an ignition past. It was safely contained inside of its iron grate and stone hearth. Ash set his covered plate and flask of clearish liquid upon the nearby coffee table, and moved to stoke the almost non-existent glow into a proper blaze. It was very dim in that room; perhaps it was why he didn't see the movement until it was too late. An unnamed entity opened its reflective, feline eyes and locked Ash into a stare from atop the mantle, just a couple of feet from his face. It blinked once, slowly, and leapt from its resting place to slink elsewhere in the room, somewhere in the pitch gloom the evening provided. Ash was startled. "Jesus! Schrodinger!" he called in his momentary shock.

Peeking her head into the room before fully stepping in Thana gave a perplexed look before spotting the orange tabby. Smirking she shook her head a bit before glancing in Ash's direction. Ash sighed with light irritation, and in a softer voice said, "Please have a seat, ma'am. I'll have some light in a couple minutes. Oh, go ahead and start without me. You must be hungry."

Setting her plate down Thana nodded. Yet instead of sitting down she righted herself as she pulled her gun from the coat pocket and set it on the table and then removing the coat itself. "I am but b'fore I eat, I have a question. Where am I bunkin' this evenin?"

"Fair question." remarked Ash, pulling a few logs from a metal compartment next to the fireplace. He began stacking them within the hearth as he continued, "I have three ideas for that. James lives by himself in another historic building just around the block. There's a spare room there you can use. Same applies here - I generally quarter in the garret upstairs. There's another room across from it, used to be a study. You're welcome to it for the time being. If the idea seems a little inappropriate, you can bunk with Miss Sally. I understand she's an excellent hostess, and I'm sure she has room."

Ash stuffed a handful of tinder underneath the logs and blew gently upon it. A small flame coaxed itself awake, hopefully to catch the larger pieces above. He looked almost proud of himself, a rather primal "I Have Made Fire" expression that quickly faded. "James and Sally are still at the party, I think. I can send word to them quietly if you make a decision that way."

Thana thought for a moment as she drummed her fingers against her hip and scrunched her lips to the side. After a few moments of contemplation and weighing out her options she turned back towards her host. "Captain, permission to speak freely?"

It was rarely a pleasant subject that required permission to speak freely. Still, Ash found the formality novel and respectful. That and immediate curiosity got the better of him. With solid voice he responded, "Granted."

"To be frank sir, the last thing I want to do is bunk up with James. Hits a tad to close to home currently and I don't want to deal with questions. As far as Miss Sally goes, she seems nice enough but a bit of a plotter. After the look she gave the two of us this evenin' when she found out I was yer plus one, well that told me more than I needed to know. So if you don't mind, I will reside here this evenin'. Yer the only one that seems to look at me and not be seein' someone else." Her voice was rather matter-of-fact as she spoke, and slipped into droll almost; as if she was reading from a drilling manual.

Then her tone took a softer tune as she added a bit more to what she had already said. "And Captain, you ain't lookin' like you need to be left alone with a bottle this evenin'."

"Don't you worry about me, ma'am. I'll be just fine. Point of fact, I have big plans coming up for this place that will require me to be in good condition and even spirits. You're welcome to join me with that bottle, though."

The fire leapt to a respectable level of illumination and warmth as the larger pieces of split log slowly began to ignite within the fireplace. Satisfied, he moved to the couch and, like his guest, divested himself of his weapons and radio upon the coffee table. Settling down in front of his plate, he looked to Thana, saying, "But I would appreciate company, if you're willing. Eat up. I'll take care of your room upstairs after we're done here."

"In that case sir, I am going to get out of this getup' and get comfortable, heels and dresses aren't exactly my thing if I am not standing at attention," she said as she looked around. "Go ahead and start, I'll be right back," she added as she stepped out of the room and headed back to where she had changed earlier. If she was going to relax and enjoy the meal she figured she might as well stop being the woman in the red dress.

"That's a good idea..." Ash thought aloud absently. He hadn't even given thought to changing back into his more comfortable, everyday attire. He looked down at his very fine suit, which admittedly looked nice on him, and shook his head. Even if Ash ever was that guy before, he most assuredly wasn't the suit & tie type anymore. Ash removed his coat and tie, carefully folding them over an arm in as he rose to go change, himself. His regular clothing should still be neatly folded in the hallway bathroom, as well as the hanger and garment bag for his suit.

From the newly lit corner of the room, Schrodinger lifted his head from his position of repose and looked at Ash. If he didn't know any better, Ash would have sworn that the cat carried a smug, accusatory expression. He continued looking quietly at the Captain. "Don't you start, Schrodinger..." Ash warned. The cat yawned and lay its head back down, eyes narrowing in sleepy contentment. Ash shook his head and walked down to the bathroom, intentionally stepping heavily to announce his presence for his guest. If he was lucky and very quick, he would be back in the sitting room about the same time as Thana. The race was on.

As hungry as Thana was she wasn't in a rush. Stepping over to her clothing she looked at it and then turned around, looking for the bag of things that Miss Sally had handed her earlier. She had rummaged through it briefly but never taken a good look at what was inside. The day was wrapping up, sun was starting to set, and it seemed she would be bunking down for the evening. Flipping over the over flap of the bag she looked inside and jostled things around a bit. Inside was a couple of changes of clean clothing and something she hadn't quite expected.

Shrugging she got to changing, carefully hanging the dress back up in the garment bag and laying it over the arm of a chair. This day had turned out to be interesting to say the least. She still wasn't sure she would stay come morning. The place was nice enough and well put together but it had problems. Granted everywhere did, even before the outbreak. She had to wonder though if the supposed safety and community would be worth being surrounded by so many that had been close to Zoie.

Meanwhile, Ash was changing out his clothing with a sense of urgency disproportionate to the situation. It was as if the theme from The Lone Ranger were somehow playing in the background, motivating the man to such wearable textile gymnastics as was unseen since the first time Ash had to leave a boudoir as a teenager before his sweetheart's father got home. It was a very short matter of time before he was back in his grey and black "Class B's" and his suit was hung up on the back of the bathroom door, zipped up in its matte garment bag. He folded over his patrol cap and slipped it into a cargo pocket, then swiftly returned to the sitting room.

Ash lay his utility belt on the table next to his plate, fixed his pistol and knife to it, and waited patiently for his guest to return. The cat was still in extreme repose in the corner, seemingly uninterested in everything and everyone around it. Ash fought off the urge at huck a pillow at him. Schrodinger was comfortable. It would be a shame to run him off.

After finishing up and getting things straightened, Thana stepped out of the spare room and closed the door behind her. Making her way down the hall she stepped around the corner into the sitting room. Out of the dress she had found something more comfortable to wear and it hadn't been what she had rode into Newnan in. In her pack had been a set of dark blue fleece pajamas and she had figured why the hell not. The night was coming and it seemed that they were hunkered down for the evening. Giving Ash a shrug and a small smile she stepped over to the couch and plopped down in her bare feet.

"Figured we weren't goin' anywhere else tonight." Reaching over she picked up her plate and tucked her feet beneath her, resting the plate on her lap. "Mind handin me a fork? Don't wanna reach over ya."

Ash was staring. He didn't realize that he was staring until Thana started talking, which was followed by immediate feeling of self-consciousness. The request for a fork snapped him out of it. "Ah, yeah, umm... yes, ma'am." he stammered out, procuring a fork from the table and handing it over. He had not expected to see her dressed with such extreme informality. Perhaps even more than his first glimpse of her in the red dress, Ash looked upon her as a woman and not simply a colleague. Naturally, he had no desire to speak of this openly. Raw guilt alone would have prevented that, anyway. Trying to continue the conversation without tipping his hand too much, he responded, "Lord knows I have nowhere to be until morning."

"Well that's good," Thana said nonchalantly as she took the fork and rested back a bit getting comfortable. She hadn't noticed him staring, more concerned with the food than anything else at that point. The small piece of cornbread she had picked at earlier had only served to let her know she was hungry. Being around the smell of food at the reception had reminded her she hadn't eaten properly in a while. Sure she had MRE's in her pack but actual food hadn't been on the menu in a while.

Ash peeled the cover back from his plate of redneck epicure to inspect his supper for the day. The security guy certainly piled them thick and high. Ash poked into his sausage and grits with his own fork, and looked over to Thana with an unusually serene (for him) look on his face. "Maybe tomorrow, I can give you the grand tour. Newnan has quite a bit to offer the standard Apocalypse survivor - even something to offer the exceptional ones, too, if you feel like staying a while."

Smirking a bit to herself as she looked down at her plate and slipped her fork into the potato salad. "Is this where you tell me that I should give Newnan a chance?" she said as she glanced over to him out of the corner of her eye. It had been an on going thing since she arrived. It wasn't constant but it had been at least the third time since she arrived that he had brought up her staying longer than the night in Newnan. "Beginning to wonder if you had been a recruiter for a time before the outbreak," she said before taking a bite of her food and pulling the fork clean from between her lips as she gave him a bit of a look. Curving her fingers she held them in front of her lips as she finished her thought. "Alright, give me the pitch."

"Didn't realize I was being pushy about it." came from Ash after a hard swallow. "Sorry 'bout that." He shoveled a couple more bites in, chewing quickly. Apparently, he was more hungry than he thought. When he was clear to speak again, he motioned with his fork, punctuating his words as he spoke. "I honestly can't say that I have an 'elevator speech' for recruiting. Most people enter through the South Gate and are brought past livestock, get an okay look at crops in the distance and some of our facilities here, not to mention the expansive walls and armed guards. It does pretty much all of the talking for us. We sit down and have our little interview, and mostly it comes down to letting them know that we have a way of doing things here, finding out what they're good at, and saying that they're free to leave whenever."

Thana could understand him not really have to say things in the past. It was obvious why most would choose to stay in the town. Electricity was a large perk, the walls even more so. People here were clean and well taken care of, she hadn't seen signs of starvation and everyone seemed healthy. They had enough resources to have a wedding, to get dressed up; in some ways it was as if the outbreak had never happened. There were children and elderly. Most people probably came in and thought they had hit the jackpot. Granted Thana wasn't most people.

The Captain hesitated over a large bit of smoked pork, but decided to complete his thought before he mercilessly attacked and consumed it. "The best Sales Pitch I can think of revolves around what we're not. We aren't cannibals, we aren't bandits, we're not a murder cult either. There's no secret initiation where you come to realize that we aren't what we appear at face value. Mostly, we're a bunch of people that realized working together and keeping each other safe and fed is the best way to stay alive." Ash paused for a second or two, wary of his next statement. "And if I'm being completely open, I just had a feeling that you belong here. I'm not psychic or anything (I'm not sure if I even believe in psychics), but I think this could be a home. So yeah, give me a little time. If nothing else, I would value your opinion on the way we do some things." With that, the morsel of pork went down like a trooper.

Thana had kept her attention on Ash as he continued on. The fact he brought up what they weren't caused a slight chuckle to come from her lips. Him telling her what they weren't didn't put her at ease, it made her sarcastically question in her mind if she was eating the other white meat or the other other white meat. Was this a Bob-B-Q? He seemed trustworthy but Thana didn't give people the benefit of the doubt. They got a clean slate with her and when they marred it, it was marred for life. She wasn't as trusting as her doppelganger. Then his next words came and she slowly lowered her fork as he committed D-Day on the pork. That had come out of left field and she gave him a look as if she had just been smacked in the face with a trout on M-iRc back in the day.

Blinking a few times she lowered her fork and balled up her fist as she brought her hand up and covered her mouth slightly as she cleared her throat. Tilting her head to the side as she lowered her hand she looked back over towards Ash. "Permission to speak freely sir?"

It seemed just a little silly to Ash, asking permission to speak freely. Again. The paradox of Thana was that, while she insisted on dressing and lounging as comfortably as possible, her speech so far had given nary a hint of the casual nature that was to be found in almost every other facet of the woman. He sighed quietly, and looked her in the eyes. "Ma'am, I appreciate your formality. But our shared military experience aside, you are a welcome guest in my home. Let's assume that, at least for the duration of this conversation, you have full permission to speak freely. What's on your mind?"

"I'll consider it sir," she said between a few light coughs as she picked up her plate and let her feet hit the floor. Resting it on the table in front of them she picked up the bottle and took a quick swig to help with the tickle in the back of her throat. Normally she would have gotten or requested a glass but this was one of those tickles that usually hit people and then kept hitting until it sounded like they were dying. Usually right in the middle of a quiet scene in a movie or in the middle of finals. She wanted to stave it off as quickly as possible.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiment but I don't see myself as a guest. I see myself as an applicant. I see you as one as well. Both weighin' the other out to see if it is worth the investment. What we can get from each other in trade. How the world works, how it has always worked." Her voice was frank and even now that she had cleared away the tickle. What she said wasn't meant as an insult or to call things into question. She was being genuine when she spoke. Upfront and honest in what she said and how she felt about the situation.

Turning she crossed her legs and looked at him as she rested her hand on the back of the couch with the other in her lap. "Now, concerning what I was goin' to say. You say that ya would value my opinion on things and that you feel I belong here. I have to question why but that can wait. My opinion? I got too close to this place b'fore a gun was raised, ya need watches further out. I watched this place two days in the snow before approachin'. From what I saw of yer walls when I was shuffled in all cloak and dagger was that you should have water troughs along the walls collecting rain water and funnelin' it down to flora you can make climb or grow hydroponically in case of soil contamination or infestation. And if you aren't already I would bring in a large scale igloo style greenhouse to keep crops growing year round, utilize arctic crop growing techniques to have year round production during the few months in this state that it is cold and the few times we get a freeze like this."

She spoke like a professor as she gave a first analysis of Newnan, her hands moving as needed to accentuate her point before they came down and rested in her lap. Then came the rest. "You've told me what this place is since I didn't see it fully. You've told me what is isn't. So, what's wrong with the place? Other than petty theft." She asked him evenly when she brought up the theft she had seen. She wanted to know what she was gettin' into more than just her sister had been there first. This place seemed like Eden (the Bible Eden, not Peachtree City), but even Eden fell and it was because of something stupid.

That was a mouthful. And most of it seemed to be rooted in perfectly sound logic. But that last question hung in the air like a stale wind. "Fair enough. I'd like to see what you think of our medical garden and crops, once you get a closer look. Good or bad, I appreciate your input. Now, as to your question - sure. There are things that are wrong with this place. Some of which I intend to rectify directly. Others are not so simple."

Ash took up the bottle of peach liquor and imbibed a healthy swig of it, himself. "The biggest domestic problem is with our people, obviously. We have a collection of seemingly random individuals that have made this place their home, long after my people from Virginia and the former CO's people integrated with the few locals that remained here. Some of these people have more colorful personalities and tendencies that make them irritating at best. Some have a difficult time with the fact that there is a presence of authority here. The petty theft angle is new, to my knowledge."

Ash moved on to the next bit that gave him concern, "Further, we built these walls with expansion in mind. The upside is that we have a fair amount of unused buildings and open space. The downside is that we don't presently have numbers that I am comfortable to readily defend all of it. In times of crisis, we have to pull everyone back to the Inner Wall and go from there."

"Which moves us on to the big problem. There is a community living just east of here in Peachtree City. What I know of them came from two survivors of that place; your sister and a guy name of Ryan. (He's the one that called "Safe!" when Ray took his tumble.) They call their community Eden, and they seem to like to show up randomly, take shots at us and commit other acts of terror. They are a problem that I would like to see burned to the ground and stomped into dust. But right now, we barely have the ammunition to protect ourselves. If this issue is not resolved quickly and decisively, we will tax much of the resources to maintain our security, should this become all out war. I would firebomb their whole location, Lord knows we have enough alcohol to ash the place, but as I understand there are innocents there. If this aggression goes on, I will have to make a hard choice. Thankfully, it has been some time since they have made themselves known last."

There is was, open and bare. There was the risk of living in Newnan. Aside from the obvious issues of the Dead, there were issues of extreme personality conflict, a design flaw in the planning of the community, and the ever-lurking threat of Eden. Ash sincerely hoped that his sudden bout of blunt honesty didn't scare her off immediately.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

---

---

Caesar Gonzalez

---

Location: Morgue

---

---

Cecily was busy. Very busy. It was rather like Lady Luck conspired with earthly agents of random mayhem to ensure that she did not exit the premises for the remainder of the evening. Of course, this was Justice, California. Caesar had found since his relocation there earlier that year, all too painfully, that Fate seemed to conspire diabolically against many people, deserving or no. Generally, this is an occasion to pack up and leave, but there was a significant amount of hellish retribution that needed to be doled out, and the older Mexican did not know precisely where to yet the blade just yet.

But the inevitable plans for blood and mayhem with either himself of a group of mostly unnamed antagonists at the business end of something sharp aside, these things were going to keep piling up the longer that they stayed around. "Look, Niña... began Caesar, "The bodies will come whether you are here or not. The phone will still ring. I'm sure that people will still get hurt and die while we are all in Mexico. You have a replacement coming. Let whoever it is take care of this first thing tomorrow."

The would be time for the realization of his revenge, and plenty of it. But for now, it was within his best interests to properly inter his daughter. Maybe even get in a few hours of honest, uninterrupted grieving after the fact. While he was at it, a few days out of country might do a world of good for his new friend, who as he noted, was getting shot at as much as he was. "It's getting late, and we have an early day. You should clock out, Niña, and let's go get some food. Besides, I want to introduce you to one of my associates. If plans move forward like I'm hoping, you're going to have to rely on him in the near future."

Caesar rose and nodded toward the door. "Come on. I'll gave you a lift in, make sure you get back home safe after."

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

---

---

Reginald Keystone

---

Location: Grand Continental Hotel

---

---

There was apparently the slightest of confusion concerning Reginald's motivations. He felt that perhaps he should clarify his position before they progressed any further with the evening or their fellowship. "Ah, yes... Madame, I believe in being at transparent with people as possible. I should hope that you feel the same; it is very important to me that you know from which angle of origin my thoughts lie. To that end, Miss ...ah... Clark, yes? Miss Clark, I'm afraid you misunderstand me."

"I have no worry about your friend Elvsgaard conspiring against the Crown. The Crown, in this instance, is the Stick: The large, heavy tool one uses to rectify or collect retribution in a nemesis-like fashion. My concern is the safety and privacy of persons I particularly care about - persons whose safety and privacy have been openly threatened by the presence and continued inquisitorial nature of your associate, even following the obvious discomfort said dirt-digging was causing. This preventative measure ensures that, quite frankly, if he breathes a word of what he witnesses, suspects, or even engages his typewriter, if he so much as takes a note, The Crown has full right to seek restitution for espionage. I refuse to have my family's private affairs aired for the purpose of selling periodicals, and I likewise absolutely refuse to have my friend's life endangered for that same purpose, or any other to which they do not consent."

"I am implying nothing that should cause resentment. I am not subtle. I am stating it outright, madame. But there is a spot of good news, if you feel that he is being singled out: All of you will be signing these papers, if you desire the protection of His Majesty's Armed Forces this evening. This most wholeheartedly includes you, Miss Clark. If you have continued difficulty with this concept, I have no ethical dilemma whatsoever returning to the Qsar El Nil Barracks with those whom I hold dear, and those who have (just this evening) earned my respect. The offer to the remainder of you is purely out of gentlemanly obligation. Or to put it more succinctly, as I understand you Yanks tend to prefer things in neat, simple to comprehend packages - You don't have to come along. Neither of you. It may even head off unforeseen problems, for as you so rightly observed, I hardly know either of you, seeing as we only just met. I can only trust my learned opinion, which at this hour is not as favorable as it could be."

Reginald checked his pocketwatch. Snapping it closed, he concluded, "We shall depart in five minutes. You have within that time to convince me why I should bother the risk of either of you, madame. Consider very carefully."

Perhaps it was the smile following Aziza breaking down into sobbing fear and running from the room. Perhaps it was the manner in which this ...actress... bobbed from gentleman to gentleman over the course of the evening. Or maybe it was the entitled manner in which she chose to attempt to order about people around her. Maybe it was the distinct sense that Reginald got that this young woman considered and carried herself as a social better, despite the questionable qualifications of being a societally uncontributing silver screen showperson. But the Lord Major had quite enough verbal sparring and attempted one-upmanship. Those were the terms. Period. Resent, rant, rave - it would change nothing.

He had his people to protect, and the means to do so. Any threat from without or from within would be dealt with quickly and directly. These people now had a decision to make - Were they with the Lord Major, or should he cut them loose as a bad investment of his time and effort? Whatever the outcome, his patience for this posturing was at an end.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

---

---

Keystone

Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal, The Scullery Crew (?)

---

---

Keystone had just sat down when Sana made the request for him to get back up and take over for the local cook on her behalf. This place didn't seem like the type of establishment that prepared meals "to order", unless one was very good friends with the owner or was willing to part with a disproportionate amount of currency. As it turned out, Keystone was, in fact, NOT very good friends with the owner. His last visit to this Inn & Tavern did not ingratiate himself to Femnal, nor his war profiteering former employer Cremwise. Admittedly, it was his fault, more or less. But that was a subject best thought about at a later time.

He still didn't want to do it. Keystone would much rather have kept his posterior on his chair and gotten a bowl of whatever the scullery crew had scraped together. But apparently, that wouldn't quite be fair to his adventuring companion who was still on the mend, and unwilling to deal with food that was too solid. He sighed audibly. "Yeah, bloody fine. I'm on it." Yeah, he didn't like it. But he was going to do it anyway. He nodded to the Dwarf at the table (why the arse did Sana insist on sitting here?), and remarked, "Mind she don't start no 'eavy liftin', yeah?"

The tricky part was trying to convince the owner. The diminutive Gnome, Femnal, seemed none to happy with the large man insisting that he be allowed access to his kitchen - again. Granted the first time was to repair a situation birthed of traveler's rations and overcooked turnips, delivered by way of his Styxian colon. The two of them entered into a short conversation in low tones, just out of earshot of the nearest of patrons.

For anyone paying attention to the muted dialogue, Keystone and Femnal went through a series of facial expressions hinting at shock, anger, bargaining, even betrayal. At one point, the Gnomish proprietor climbed onto a nearby barstool and leapt bodily upon the bar, intent on going for a short blade on his person and burying it into the broad man's eyesocket. Keystone responded by closing a ham-sized hand around the tiny antagonist's shoulder and rearing back a closed fist that promised potential bluntforce decapitation. The two combatants froze, exchanging more quiet words. Keystone looked very confused for a second or two, then relented with an exaggerated shrug and a nod of affirmation. He clicked a single coin onto the bar next to Femnal, and disappeared back into the kitchen area. What he saw shocked him.

Disarray. Heavy, nigh massive provisioning, stored all willy-nilly and in varying states of preparedness. The full suite of scullery staff that greeted him the first time around was curiously absent, replaced by a single man who looked as bewildered to be there as Keystone was to note the lack of staffing. "Well. Bloody, Bacon-damned 'ell is all this, eh?" The only thing that appeared to be prepared in any decent amount was the stew from earlier. Stew, and some sort of local bread in large, unevenly cooked hunks. There were a couple wheels of cheese that looked like they had been inexpertly carved into, and a multitude of tools and kitchen staples that should have been carefully put away.

"Right. You obvious ain't got clue-sodding-one what's goin' on back 'ere, have ya? Pile a buncha crap into a pot, call it stew, didja? Nah, you're done for now. I'm gonna get something together for a good friend o' mine, and you... You're gonna tell me where I'm findin' half the stuff I needs to do it." At least the fire underneath the cooking irons were well tended.

But first things first. Keystone located a slab of what he thought was beef and cut off several steaks. He rubbed coarse salt and sage into them, along with a good, neutral oil, and set them in a heated pan upon the stovetop with a satisfying Hisssssss. That would take the longest bit, the steaks were quite thick. "Thought I saw a heap o' whole roasted 'tatos, yeah?" he mentioned to the lone cook still on Femnal's staff. "Want you to take the skins offa several and put the white fleshy stuff into a mixin' bowl."

The cook acquiesced to Keystone's demands. Slowly at first, but what he saw what the large, intimidating man was actually doing in his kitchen, he nodded at set to work. Meanwhile, the brawler was set a pot over the fire with moderate amounts of butter and good, thick cream. He likewise prepared a saucepot with brown poultry stock and began squeezing together a quick roux out of cool flour and melted butter. He paused for a moment to flip the steaks. "Passin' sear. Couple minutes on th'other side, yet..." He cracked a number of eggs into the pan, salted the lot of it, covered, and transferred it into the oven proper.

In all, it didn't take but a few minutes' time. The majority of the long preparations were already done. This was more of an impressive construction and final dash of heat needed to bring everything together. And of course, with only two people working on everything, one of whom with requisite skills to perform the duties properly, no one got in their way and Keystone didn't have to wait for equipment to free up.

Keystone was nearing the end of his time in the kitchen. For Sana, he had prepared a lovely (if massive) portion of thick and creamy mashed potatoes, swimming in amber chicken gravy (flavored lightly with bacon fat and local herbs). There were many other items he prepared while the repast was cooking and resting, but the brunt of his effort and attention went into the simplest of items for the generally pissed-off gypsy lady. Potatoes and Gravy. Hard to mess up, but hard to perfect. "Oy! You there!" he called to his involuntary assistant. "This all's been paid for out front. Many thanks for the assist though, yeah? One of them steaks, three of them eggs, and a half loaf o' that bread's for you. Put the rest on platters, 'ceptin' those 'tatos. Them's for me to move."

He looked again at the utter bounty of what Femnal had, far more than he needed with the reduced numbers in the town. Very likely, he had just located his spot to re-provision. The food was better set for a single location than for travelers' fare, but nothing he couldn't overcome with a bit more time in this room. For now, load up and get ready to cart everything out front. It should be much more than was expected, but there more people with him than just Sana and himself. "...that ale better be waitin' on me..." he thought aloud.

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

---

---

_{"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine."}

---

Location: Carriage (front of Almack's)

---

---

They had finally arrived. Elizaveta's ringing endorsement of Mary's knightly title still ringing with a sense of grateful elation, the young Apostolic peered from the carriage window. Almack's Assembly Rooms loomed back at her, the solid social monolith of the age, gateway to high society in the London scene. Not that any of that particularly appealed to Mary, at least not for herself. Being seen there, however, would give additional legitimacy to the Catholic Church with London society. Maybe even make her job easier in the future. No, she wasn't there to be socialize - but it wouldn't hurt to be seen.

It was hoped that she would have arrived early to inspect Soulless defenses and review the staff. Sadly, circumstances did not allow for a preliminary examination of staff and grounds. It looked like her work was cut out for her. Instead of taking the initiative, her work would mostly involve reactionary measures. It was rather like playing at tavern bouncing, if the bouncer came in mid-shift and had to watch for ravenous but subtle creatures passing themselves off as regular patrons.

The moment that Elizaveta's personal guard opened the carriage door and the Grand Duchess stepped out, Mary followed. She retrieved her halberd and a wrapped package from her saddlebags, still within the carriage. "Your Grace?" started Mary cautiously. They were close to public company now, and she was unsure as to who could hear them speaking. She reached into her bundle and offered Elizaveta a flask of holy water. "I do not know the extent of your training, nor the abilities of your people (except for the impressive display in the Undercroft), but every bit helps."

Sister Mary opened her cloak and stashed a few ampules and another flask in her sporran. A quick weapon check necessitated Mary leaning her halberd against the carriage for a moment. She ensured the accessibility of her howdah pistol, quickly drew her shortswords and replaced them after a twirl, and wrapped one of her chain rosaries around her left forearm, the crucifix dangling slightly from the underside of her wrist. "At your pleasure, Your Imperial Majesty." she intoned formally, taking back up her polearm and motioning toward the entrance of the Assembly Rooms. She had much work to do.

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Foy-er

---

An odd question from Atticus, considering his own lack of loquaciousness when given a similar query. "What places me on the decks of the mighty Retribution, you ask? Contract, sir. The obligations involved with putting pen to paper and officially agreeing to terms in exchange for compensation." Foy considered precisely where to begin with the odd Shepherd's cleaning and polishing, before deciding that the towel's preparation had left his face in greater readiness than his hair. He brought out a sleek pair of barber's scissors, complete with adjustable screw and finger rest, and began deftly clearing away excess facial hair in the same manner as a sculptor would shear off clay from a budding masterpiece.

"You see, working for the Alliance (amongst other moneyed entities) is oft a herald to provide unique opportunities to secure additional venues and locales for the expansion of the Family Business." he moved his hands with grace and dexterity, finishing his use of one tool and moving along to the next. "Any new place that is not entirely self-sufficient and contains persons that can afford even the most minuscule of hygienic luxuries will do; even places along the Rim, or locales in mid-terraform bearing technicians or other staff - demands must be met, and most times all one requires is to provide knowledge that such a service exists and is willing to ship for a negotiated price. A capital bit of capitalism, if I do say so myself. And we produce the vast majority of products ourselves, sourced from nearby celestial bodies."

Foy was working fast. The uplifting conversation (mostly about himself, of course), served to motivate and center the man. "Though you are devastatingly astute, Preacher. This is most certainly not Alliance uniform material." He expertly handled his straight razor, carefully carving out curves and whirls along the edge of his facial hair in a wispy, flame pattern. "A gentleman's wardrobe is a source of inestimable pride, when properly cared for and matched with like accessory."

"I am a Gentleman of Fortune, my half-groomed compatriot, and a Gentleman of Fortunes as well, if you take my meaning. But money or diversions aside, I am foremost a Gentleman of Farraday. The Business Aristocracy, with comfortable financial backing and the desire to increase said comfort, said finances, and said backing. As for the "guns blazing" you mentioned, dear sir, one's trained profession need not always be ones ancestral profession. I assure you, there is only one other person aboard this ship you would want coming after you even less."

Foy took a brush to the man's face. He grinned smugly, secure in the knowledge that he had done a masterful job with his facial scaping. Yes, yes. Quite satisfactory. Now, the hair! A light trim and style should suffice; you have very good follicles and it frames your head quite nicely. But I do insist on that rakishly slanted part - at least on the front half of your mane." He brushed off the man's torso and shoulders and took position behind him with pomade and a pair of scissors.

"Now, a lack of fashionable uniform might very well cause someone like myself to inexorably alter loyalties. But a disciplined man of the Cloth like yourself? No, there must be more to that story."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

---

---

Ash Holloway

---

Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)

---

---

The journey over to the buffet was short, in terms of raw, proximal distance, but this was a social gathering. There were bound to be little conversational pitfalls and obstacles that prevented Captain Holloway & Lt. Commander Martin from their direct yet discreet mission to move from Point A to Point B and secure personal foodstuffs. It was not ideal, but it was quite expected. What was not expected was a tiny grunt from Thana as soon as James came into clear view. A microsecond of hesitation told him all he needed to know. Thana's desire to be in that room was coming to an end. He stopped short and looked back at his guest, an uphrased question in his eyes.

In a second or two, Ash thought he understood. In hindsight, he really didn't get her motivation, but the baseline desire to wrap things up came through well enough. He gave her the smallest of nods, just enough to indicate a hint of understanding.

It was about this time that one of the Security personnel at the event walked straight to Ash and asked him for a private and immediate word. An onlooker might see Ash's ordinarily neutral face dropped, slowly but surely, into a depressed scowl. Ash sighed heavily, thanked the man, and leaned in close to give him a set of orders. In response, he snapped to attention and gave him a sharp salute before moving immediately to the tables of food. The soldier grabbed two plates and began loading them up.

Meanwhile, Ashton turned back to Thana, intoning in a low voice, "I'm back on the clock, ma'am." His posture straightened considerably, and the semi-relaxed look he had in his eyes vanished, replaced with a distant glare common to combat officers and Irish mothers (loads of transferable skills between the two professions). "Please wait here. This should only take a minute." He scanned the crowd, eventually locating the object of his coming attentions. Luckily she was sitting alone at a table in the corner of the room, away from the main crowd. He approached with a discouraged look on his face.

"Leave the glass on the table, Bryn. Collect your plate, and go home. Consider yourself confined to quarters until tomorrow morning. Someone will be escorting you. Report to my office first thing - we will discuss your new job assignments then. Do not take action to the contrary." His tone was low, even, and assertive to the extreme. Ash's wasn't yelling, nor drawing attention. But there was a definite "proceed at your own risk" quality he used to use in his previous life as a Combat Engineer. This was not up for debate, and the direct manner inferred that there would be consequences otherwise.

"A cup you could have just asked for is a poor reason to break my trust. I'm disappointed, Bryn. And you owe Jim an apology."

He didn't care to wait for a response. Ash left. Discussion could wait until tomorrow morning; he just wasn't having it right then. The thought smacked him, and pretty hard: This was just a symptom of an overall difficulty that was going in in Newnan. Ash had been taking a more permissive, indirect method with this place than he should have been, and for far too long. He had his reasons, but they weren't good enough to warrant his lack of direct action. Too much was allowed to let slide. Well, that was going to change, and first thing in the morning. The Newnan Safe Zone was established as an impromptu community founded by a joint group of military personnel, and he was the present commanding officer. Petty theft and insubordination was not going to be tolerated; the first pickings at a thread that threatened to unravel what they had worked and fought and bled and died for. Bryn wasn't the only one. Hell, there were others that were more deserving of his attention. It had to start somewhere, though, and this incident had been blatant.

Ash was halfway back to his Plus One when realizations about incidents around Newnan played in his head. Some even from today. People trying very hard not to follow his orders. Disturbances. Fights. Passing their responsibilities onto others. Leaving posts without proper relief. There were some people he should have disciplined with far less restraint than he had - and others he should have gotten rid of. Stitch in time, as it were. It made him angry, truly angry. Not just at some of the people of his community, but at himself for not doing more to keep this particular ship tight. "No fucking more..." Ash growled absently to himself, letting his native Virginian show. This was his mess, and he was going to start cleaning it up, for the sake of everyone living under his command. He couldn't be a part-time Commander anymore. He was Captain Ashton Jameson Fucking Holloway, son of moonshiners and mountain-folk, combat veteran and general beater of wholesale ass for his country, his family, and his people.

He returned to Thana about the same time that the gentleman from security did; the former with a cold expression on his face and the latter carrying two covered plates and a large flask of something labeled "Peach Spirits". Ash relieved the man of his load, and instructed him to, "...see that Bryn gets home safely, and report afterwards."

Obviously, Ash wasn't feeling sociable anymore. "Lieutenant Commander, would you mind too much if we called it an evening? I'm afraid my heart isn't in this any longer." He motioned to Jim, pointed at his own eyes, and made a circular motion above his head. The returned nod indicated that Ash's nonverbal order was understood and accepted. He looked back to Thana, "Ma'am, if you're ready?"