Sigil

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: M5 ((N) O.B. Room 2G) -> Assembly (P) Skills: N/A

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Ash was no stranger to memorial services. You couldn't be in the Army for more than a few seconds without taking part in the affairs of a dead person's loved ones, visiting a place made hallowed by the blood of patriots, or hearing pointed reports of people who lived their lives in service to others. It came with the job. Ash himself had to pen a handful of letters back home, detailing the final moments of people under his command. Combat Engineer, MOS 12b. It came with the territory. On the other hand, recently funerals seemed like a novelty. With few exceptions, saying goodbye to those close to you was a hurried thing, or quiet words whispered when you thought you were safe enough to take a breather. Memorials were kept in your thoughts, as if replaying past events with the person kept part of them alive. Maybe it did, in a vague way. Maybe it was just comforting to one's self. Either way, nowadays it was a luxury that many simply could not afford. Ash owed everyone buried most recently, Newnan people and Eden Team, a piece of silent gratitude. Mostly for himself, he needed to say goodbye to a man he considered a lifelong friend, even if he'd only been introduced to him a tiny few years ago.

With this in mind, the more familiar, more grim look came over Ash, exiting his and Thana's quarters. He strode down the hallways, keeping to his side and looking every bit the military man, despite the obvious lack of sidearm and insignia. He returned the simple greetings of those who passed them his way as not to offend, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Specifically, he didn't know really what he might say when he got to this memorial, or if he should say anything at all. For that matter, what might be the point to coming out to see a patch of dirt under which lay a person he saw die in front of him, a year and a half ago? But something told him that this was the right thing to do. Not just because it might be a point of closure for himself (which was primary), but because it was important to set an example. Or rather, not to set the example of staying behind after this opportunity was presented and seem ungrateful.

Coming out of Officers' Quarters, Ash shielded his eyes from the sun for the first few steps, until he adjusted to the light. Then it was a brisk walk down the street. He didn't expect that he would be first on the scene, and true to that he was not. By the time Ash made it over to the appointed area, there was already a small group in front of the party bus. He noted Joaquin, the Padre, and a man who he didn't remember meeting formally but who was referenced to as Bass. But it wasn't just Mexico Beach locals; Riley and Amelia were present, as were Jack and Tatiana, who he felt like he hadn't seen in months. And Manny, of course, but he Ash noted that he was not part of wither Newnan nor Eden's assault team, as it left from the water treatment facility so long ago. Someone had mentioned that Manny was picked up along the way, actually in Eden unwillingly, so that made some sense. It was only right that he give a formal goodbye to the people who died trying to bust him out. Ash nodded familiarly to the man, but said nothing for the moment.

He did extend a hearty handshake to Jack, and open his arms wide to give Tatiana a hug. His stern face was tempered by the body language he was putting off, open yet a little introspective, might lead one to conclude a less lasting, healthier version of his general stoicism that Ash was known for among his clique of survivors. His face formed a sad sort of smile as he gave nonverbal acknowledgement to Amelia and Riley. Between the five of them, it looked like they were getting the band back together, in a manner of speaking. Team Newnan, sans their preferred method of transportation/team mascot, the Hordebuster. Ash would really miss that truck. At least he had the gear shift knob to remember it by.

When he finally did speak, it was a generalization toward the people representative of the ones who took them all in; Joaquin, Atticus, Bass, and even Daytona, sitting in the driver's seat. "I appreciate the hell out of you all for letting us do this. I understand it's additional work on your part. Just wanted to say that I'm grateful. Thank you." Not the most colorful of speeches, granted, but Ash was not in the mood for anything rousing, just a touch of respect where it was due. The fact that his Virginian accent twanged a bit throughout was as much color as it needed, anyway. Ash was curious about the duffel bags that the two men carried, but he figured that if explanations were necessary they would be given. No, he was going to go along with the plan, whatever it may be, and then get back to work when he returned.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Hospital (B) -> Assembly (P) Skills: N/A

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"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it, Mugs. Naht remotely the same thing," said Thalia, in response to Alexander's apology for falling. It struck her as odd, considering that they'd been living out in Zed-infested hell for a while there, but he was feeling insecure about slipping in a puddle of cleaning solution when she, in comparison, merely took a bowling trophy to the face and didn't collapse. "Shit just happens sometimes." There was a steady amount of impatience in her voice and her eyes never went back to Alexander, instead keeping tabs on the area around them like she expected an attack at any moment. There was a guy named Medic to handle any Medical issues. The least she could do was make sure the path was clear, even if this was mostly unnecessary, being inside of more civilized walls.

And so much as the older fellow was willing to let Thalia run off to shed a tear or two without him, the Mestiza lady wasn't having it. Alexander put in the time to get to know her, despite a rocky beginning. This meant that she wasn't running off unless there was a compelling reason, and she probably wasn't going to be nice about it. "Bullshit, Gramps. I ain't waiting for the next time and neithah ahre you. Let's get this ovah with." She seemed to pull the gurney a little faster, traversing the distance to the hospital with another burst of impatience. Many things she could wait for, and for hours on end; a squirrel to line up for a quick stab with a pronged spear, for instance. Or for an opening in a herd of Zeds to sprint through for survival. But this? No, not the kind of thing that inspired her calmer sense of biding time.

Inside, the attention was passed along to the doctor, who seemed very no-nonsense in his approach with the patient. Until he opened his mouth, anyway. And even then, it wasn't what he said more than the response to it. Thalia considered facepalming. Still not fully used to the prosthetic, she might have taken her life in her hands to do it. That consideration evaporated with the retort from Medic. Before she could stoop herself, a murmur escaped her lips, "...wait, you guys have jell-o?" Not the most edgy or glamorous thing to say right then, granted. It was what it was. Still, hanging around for X-rays and the like didn't take quite as long as Thalia thought it might. Of course, the fact that they had X-ray machines was a thing to really give dramatic pause, but after the revelation of Jell-O? Nah, anything was possible.

After Alexander was given a mostly clean bill of health by the doctor, and the subsequent paperwork which was beginning to irritate Thalia, they were given leave to, well, leave. The leaving part was just fine by her. But the fact that paper and ink came into this whole event was a little baffling to her. In the end, everything was sorted. No harm, no foul, take two aspirin and call in the morning. So walking out of the hospital, she gave a rough, "Thanks," and, with the other notable cripple in the throng of assholes and misfits, made her way over to where the funeral people were gathering. She could see the Assembly location as soon as she opened the front door to exit Medical, and made a beeline toward it. Obviously she was not the first to arrive.

Thalia's steps slowed as she neared the group of people gathered, the vast majority of which were from the other group that entered CMB with them. Army Captain, Ballerina Mom, Mr. Ballerina Mom, and those two women who reminded Thalia that she hadn't played pool a whole lot recently, thanks to their freshly shaved heads. She took up a spot nearish to Manny, giving him a little nod of recognition. What puzzled her was the absence of Thana. Usually glued to Army Captain, she was nowhere in sight. Maybe this was an opportunity for her to get that talk in. Or maybe it would be inappropriate, as if that ever stopped her before. She also noted her brother was part of their escort. Thalia jerked her head twice in his direction, silently getting his attention in a manner almost stereotypical to her people, asking, "¿Estamos bien?"₁

Translations

1 = Are we good/okay?

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: M5 (Street) -> M5 ((N) O.B. Room 2G) Skills: N/A

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Ash kept hands in the air, offering a further surrender and wordlessly maintaining a respectful distance from Thana and Nigel. The reasons were fairly obvious. If he had enough time to, Ash might have preferred to walk into the ocean and let the tide wash away the rigors of the day, exfoliating away whatever remained with handfuls of beach sand. It had been a while since he had that opportunity, and while not always the most time efficient way of handling the task, it was thorough. That would have to wait for another day, if that was even really allowed here. His experiences on military bases told him that even though rigid observation of the widespread rules was a constant, every place had location specific protocol that was enforced for a number of very specific reasons. This place was being run, more or less, like a military base, suggesting inquiry through channels. Or in short, he was the new guy and it was better to ask first.

Listening to the condensed version of what the two of them were up to, this from Nigel, Ash nodded politely and risked a look toward the cart that they were pushing along. Of course, from his vantage nothing was immediately apparent, and approaching them was not in the cards thanks to the cleaning detail that he was put on. Not unless he didn't care about making them uncomfortable, which his very recent actions indicated that he intended to avoid. Ash was poised to continue a brief dialogue with the man concerning the connotation of "Babylon". Depending upon context, it could go a couple of different ways. Ash had seen Babylon years ago on deployment; of course it was referred to as Camp Alpha at the time. Something to bring up with the history teacher, possibly. While not knowledgeable on the historical aspect of Babylon, it did feature in military affairs, a thing which of which he was a student. Nevertheless, Ash decided to trust that Nigel was speaking positively. But this potential exchange was waylaid by Thana, making an observation of note, along with a very colorful, if pointed question.

Ash followed the direction of her gaze over to where he saw Hunter, escorted by Maddoc and Roy. Handcuffs were involved. He blew out a sigh that sounded a lot like an exasperated but not surprised, "...damnit..." He didn't remember being late to assignment was a stockade-worthy offense, at least not at first. Either things were a lot stricter here than in the Army proper, or something else that he didn't know about had gone down. Either way, one thing was for certain: Hunter would not be back to Mechanics soon, and Ash was likely going to have to deal with the women's bathroom by himself. Hence, the damnit. Trying for optimism, this was a chance to prove himself. Ash would take it.

While agreeing that they should get moving, Ash knew that Thana wasn't speaking to him. When she informed him that she would see him after the service, Ash quickly concurred with an echo of, "After the service, then." He quickly followed up with a well-meaning, "Take care." Additionally, he gave a casual, "See you around, Nigel," and continued on his way into the Officers' Barracks. He didn't look again in the direction of Hunter and the others. This wasn't his concern past what it meant for his work detail. Also not the issue of that moment.

Getting into the routine of things, or more accurately trying to establish a routine for these things, Ash located his laundry and personal hygiene supplies, stripped and stored his soiled work clothing accordingly, and hopped into the shower for a fast and accurate scrub-down. Rubbing a towel briskly through his short hair, Ash stared into the mirror and mentally braced himself for the memorial service. It was very late in coming, by about a year and a half. A flood of memories started to come back to him. Not all of them were pleasant. Quietly, Ash got dressed, his demeanor bending to the stoic.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Administration (A) -> Outside of Administration (I4) Skills: N/A

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Int he back of Thalia's mind, she imagined that this was a true life-and-death situation, and the multitude of little things that amounted to delays was going to get someone killed. True, this certainly did not look like someone was going to die. Or was seriously injured. But the seconds wasted with idle chit-chat and questions about protocol and covering one's own ass were starting to annoy. She probably could have dragged Alexander to Medical by now, on her reckoning. Or she was just being impatient. Or both. But once Alexander was on board, Thalia did as requested of her and lay her hand on the front bar of the gurney, directing it out of the door as swiftly as was safely possible.

"Right. End of hall. Unlock door. Hall. Elevator," called back Thalia, cementing in her brain the course of action as well as letting Medic know that she had it. Thalia's metal arm connected to the ajar door with a hollow clapping sound, pushing it fully out of the way so as to accommodate the gurney, and steered it down the hallway. Not too far away, Thalia could see the door, sitting there supported the wall around it, just as big as life. "Keys," she monotoned, taking her hand off of the metal frame and hooking her prosthetic to it, clicking into place like a medieval carabiner. She leaned forward to accept the keyring from Medic by the key necessary to the situation, then quickly opened the door and tossed them back to Medic. Her metal hand found and overcame the resistance of the gurney's weight and she continued forward. Once at a respectable clip, she switched hands back off to more solidly grip with her previously non-dominant left. Instinctively, she kept her prosthetic up and in front of her like a shield against an expected attack. The fact that her eyes continued to scan the area around her like it was a hot zone was enough to make one assume that she might have been left out in the world for too long.

Lucky for her, Thalia wasn't out in the woods for so long that she did not remember the generally accepted use of an elevator. Straightforward, you push a button and wait for a few seconds to minutes, depending upon the size of the building. This one was nice enough to open after the expanse of only a few heartbeats, admitting the stretcher crew to its interior. Back end first, so the lady steering had first crack at exiting.

Ground floor! And not soon enough, to Thalia. It seemed that she would have to reset her "City Girl" mentality. Or remember that it was in her someplace, buried by what she had become. Between air conditioning and elevators, plus other comfortable stuff, Thalia found she was actually a little uncomfortable. As the doors slid open again, Talia felt a change in the air. Less "basement-y" and more "administration-y". Which made sense. Still moving with speedy caution, Thalia steered the gurney down the hallway and to the exterior doors of the building, into the brightness of a Florida afternoon.

Current Mood in One Gif

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mechanics (K) -> M5 Skills: N/A

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Having his work checked up on was not a new thing for Ash. It just hadn't happened recently, and was a reminder that he was the new guy, unproven of work ethic as of yet. And though the sign-off sheet (more paper!) contained the names of the people actually doing the job (such as Nikki's signature on the women's bathroom, a thing which raised its own questions), Mizrahi saw fit to handle his. Probationary protocol, he imagined, or some other policy that he wasn't introduced to yet. It didn't matter. The approval of the job he did was enough for now; it meant that that their first impression of his work was going to be favorable, which was something he could build upon.

What came next spawned a little less optimism in Ash. The women's bathroom, which had been handed off to Hunter on the solo as a minor disciplinary action, would now be Ash's task to complete if the younger man did not return soon. Not having a solid idea about how administration ran things, aside from what the basic military protocol was for infractions of the type he was actually around to witness, he couldn't make any sort of solid guess as to whether or not Hunter would be back to finish the job. That being said, Ash exhaled and spoke a reserved yet affirming, "Roger that." If the job needed being done, then he would do it; hopefully it was be understandable that he wasn't going into it with an especial amount of glee. Truth be told, he'd rather be doing whatever it was Thana was doing, even if it involved the same sort of task. It was funny; being apart only since lunch and he was already missing her.

Conversation turning to his question about the paper, Ash was surprised to learn that there was another settlement near enough to trade with, and that relations between them were good enough for regular commerce like that to take place. It made him wonder what other settlements like that were out there still. Around Newnan, Ash was only aware of Franklin, the defunct one in Fairburn, and the hell-on-earth in Peachtree City. Regret still gnawed at him that he wasn't with the group that finally took that place down. But that was a digression. He could ask more questions at a later time. Ash had been allotted an amount of time to clean up for the memorial service and he did not intend to waste it. "Thank you. I'll be back as soon as I can." He hoped that Hunter would be, too. Ash left Mechanics at a jog, glad to be in the more open air outside.

He remained jogging past buildings, giving the occasional wave to people as he saw them. Most everyone in CMB were strangers to him though there was no point in being rude; all the same he didn't want to get into a prolonged conversation right then. Stuff to do, places to go. He did find motivation to stop as he got closer to his destination. He wasn't sure at first, distance being a factor, but as he neared Ash was elated to see Thana walking up the road in his general direction, along with Nigel and a rolling cart full of whatever goodies they were bringing from their workplace, he assumed. "Hey!" he called, coming to a stop nearby. "Damn, it's good to see your face," he continued, looking at Thana with a beaming smile. Ash suddenly held a hand up, explaining, "Don't, um... I'm disgusting right now. Headed in to clean up before the service. You guys?" He nodded to Nigel with the last inquiry. He didn't want to be rude to the man. Hell, even thought he was an interesting guy. Depth conversation would have to wait for another time, constraints being what they were.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Hospital (B) -> Administration (A) Skills: N/A

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Thalia was beginning not to like Rolodex. Granted, there weren't a while lot of people that she did like in the first place. Moreover, the idea of a gurney race wasn't a thing that she'd be opposed to. It was the saccharin way she tried to gloss over the whole thing, coupled with the fact that it just delayed a medical issue. On the other hand, felt that she had an understanding with Mary. "Scary Bitch", maybe. Social intimidation wasn't something Thalia really gave a rat's ass about, and the woman had been pretty straight with her anyway. So she gave a slow, understanding, single dip of her head to the woman and moved to lay her hands on the gurney.

For starters, she wasn't going to be walking backwards in an unfamiliar setting, which objectively the entirety of the Mexico Beach community was to her. Her metal hand clanged down on the back end and she swiftly followed step behind it, gripping with her left and providing push with her right. Things she never had to think about, back when she had two fully functional limbs with opposable thumbs, had become miniature planning processes every few minutes or so. Maybe one day this would come naturally. The fresh wound on her cheek reminded her that today was not that day.

They had covered the first third of the overall task, that being Point A to Point B. Next step was, "Point B, Point A," she mumbled, giving the gurney a push to get it moving. A little louder, though without looking over in the direction of Mary, Thalia uttered a simple, "Thanks," before advancing to the doors, proper. Discussion past this revolved around only that which was necessary to maneuver the gurney and board across the way to the Admin building, inside, and toward the basement. "Ahright, stairs..." she said, though it was mostly to remind herself than anything else. She hooked her prosthetic around one of the gurney's supports underhanded and gripped overhand with her other, providing as much support as she could and leaned back a little, easing the gurney down the first couple of stairs. When she felt more comfortable with the procedure, Thalia increased her pace, though with a bit of warning to Rolodex who still had the front end.

"Gurney, boahd," announced Thalia flatly as they entered the basement room containing Medic, Alexander, and their overall unfinished task for the day. Hopefully nothing serious was wrong with him. Her initial reasoning for this was that he'd been through enough hardship so far, hacked off leg during his autumn years, and really didn't need something other nagging, long or even short-term issue that he had to deal with. However, Thalia would be a liar if she didn't also own up to the fact that she didn't especially want to handle the rest of this job by herself. At least the larger part of it was altruism. "What do you need he to do?" she asked bluntly, confident that her own First Aid skills were not on par with a guy whose callsign was "Medic".

Current Mood in One Gif

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mechanics (K) Skills: N/A

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"Welcome," responded Ash coolly but politely, anxious to get done with his task for the day. While it might not kill him to miss the memorial outside of the walls for the sake of performing his duties to his new home, he might not forgive himself for some time. So he continued as best he could, the sounds of him scrubbing and rinsing, moving things about ad moving them back seemed to go on incessantly as Ash poured himself into the task set before him. It only occurred to him once or twice that this was not the work he had been trained to do, and it was tempered by the competing thought that no one was too good to clean a toilet or mop a floor. Humility wasn't something that Ash was particularly known for. Lucky for him, neither was pride. Work, especially with his hands, was. Not that most of these people would know that yet. Time would reveal that trait to the people in charge here.

When Maddoc entered the room, Ash was preparing to move a stack of stored goods back into the bathroom. Reflexively, he straightened his posture in the manner he might have when a superior officer entered the room. Ever the soldier apparently, even into the Apocalypse. He said nothing, merely waiting until the man left, and then returned to his duties. Still, something about the exchange struck him as odd. For the meantime he kept his thoughts to himself. It was nonessential to the task at hand.

Time passed, and work was accomplished with little else on the way of interruption. Before too long, Ash found himself staring at a newly cleaned men's room, concentrating for any detail that he might have missed. Light fixtures, dust on the top rim of mirrors, oxidation around plumbing fixtures, etc. He went back to quickly correct a streak of cleaner on a stall hinge, and then returned to where Mizrahi was working. The man was his supervisor, after all. "Men's room is done, sir." Ash wasn't exactly certain if this was a "sir-worthy" circumstance. He was a military man, and this was a settlement run by former military. Better to show respect that might not be necessary, rather than fail to show it when it was.

Being that his task was complete, Ash allowed his thoughts to resurface. Maddoc had come in with a leaf of paper, upon which was presumably written a work order. They had papers which gave them assignments slipped under their doors in the morning. Ash had to fill out a questionnaire in Quarantine. More paper. The had files accumulating on them, as he had witnessed during interviews. He had heard others discussing paperwork. As an engineer and a man accustomed to filing in triplicate, his intellectual curiosity was piqued. Maybe they located a stockpile in a dry, sealed off place. Or raided a newspaper printing factory. Maybe they even made it on site, though he hadn't heard mention of a facility as of yet. "If I may?" he began, broaching the topic politely, "The paper - how does this community keep stocked with paper?"

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Outside of Administration (A) -> Hospital (B) Skills: N/A

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"Desalination. Road that loops. Thanks." The lady probably thought that Thalia was crazy. Not that it mattered to her. Thalia had more questions, or rather, she wished to delve into the one question that she had just asked for further detail. Now was not the time. She had a starting point and a place to check out. Thalia would have to go back to that map, reminiscent of the ones in malls that proudly proclaimed that "You Are Here", and figure out exactly where Desalination was. Wandering around town asking questions when her time might be requested elsewhere would be counterproductive to getting settled into town, even if she wasn't exactly comfortable with getting settled in a town. More than that, this was just a passing exchange while they went to retrieve a gurney. A tidbit of information to process while they tended to more important affairs.

Even Thalia had to admit that the one major advantage to civilization was available medical care. Even someone to bind wounds and a safe place to rest was immeasurable. She was very much changed from her days as a Boston urbanite. Before, she wouldn't have imagined spending months at a time out in the woods, spearing squirrels and collecting crawfish for meals; eating on the occasional feral dog for a few days. Gathering wild onions or polk leaves to stave off scurvy in the spring and summer. Now, air conditioning bothered her. Perhaps one day, she might be allowed to exit the walls, even if it was just on an assignment. Wistful and possibly damaged as she was for wanting to be out there, being able to help Alexander by crossing a road and fetching something was highly advantageous.

That the door was held open for them seemed like an antiquated sort of gesture to Thalia. Polite maybe. But antiquated. If there was a weaker sex, ever, that concept was obliterated in recent human history. If you were still alive and didn't hole up behind walls the entire time with others pulling your weight, you weren't weak, regardless of whether you sported indoor or outdoor plumbing. Still, she was in a hurry and didn't say anything about it. The most regard she gave Roy as she passed by was a glance which turned into an almost predatory gaze. It could have been taken as suppressed aggression or annoyance, but in reality was more like the look she gave the buffet of food on their first day in Quarantine, which for her involved mashed potatoes and clam chowder. She dragged her food away away and attacked with bestial abandon. The tiniest smile came after she turned her head away from him and entered the hotel, proper. Nice looking guy. He might be useful for stress relief if she got too hard up. Fuck Hunters Guild, indeed.

The short discussion between Rolodex (Thalia had to remind herself to ask about that handle) and Mary, however, was definitely enough to provoke aggression or annoyance, both of which she actually had to suppress. Just not fully. And though it was aimed mostly at Scary Bitch, some of it was for Sandra, too, for the lilting explanation of her gurney races, as if this wasn't an actual situation they were dealing with right now. As attention became focused on her, the One Winged Angel looked to Rolodex and spoke the single word question of "Really?" She then looked right back at Mary and spoke in unwavering, direct tones, "Three people in this world I consider friends. One of them needs a gurney. If you don't want to get it, point and I'll get it myself."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mechanics (K) Skills: N/A

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As much as Ash wanted to do a good job cleaning the bathroom and move on to the next job, it seemed that fate had other plans for him. Now technically, he could have just ignored the remainder of the conversation as it was going on and continue with his task, but the underlying truth of the situation continued to be that he needed to assimilate into this settlement as best as possible. That meant opening himself up to conversation with people he wouldn't have had a reason to trust two weeks prior. Less than. But even as he wanted to participate in this verbal exchange, he would have to somehow figure out the subtle differences that were applied to language when it shifted from South Georgia English to Arabic to standard American English, back to Arabic and finally spit back out in a slightly more recognizable form.

This was his life now.

Still, it made sense to him a little more, overhearing the suddenly slightly different translation. Hog heating, and turned up, not tuned. Not to mention briar bush was the established noun here. But as the conversation had skipped merrily along without any further notice paid to Ash whatsoever, including a somewhat off-label use of a wrench on Volts in return for taking a little too much pleasure in whatever they were communicating between one another in a language he might recognize but not actually speak a word of, Ash saw the wisdom in continuing with his work. As it was, the only other person in the room with whom he might converse now was under a truck, minus his wrench.

Fine. One detour. With a sigh, Ash exited the bathroom and walked over to the door Volts was leaning on just a moment ago. He bent down and retrieved Mizrahi's wrench, then walked it back over to the truck he was working on. Ash didn't speak a word, he simply set the hand tool down on the floor within reach of the man with a soft click, then returned to the bathroom to clean.

Once more, moving things out into the main room, scrubbing and polishing the areas around where said things used to be, dusting off the selfsame things and wiping them down, then moving them back. It was monotonous, but honest enough labor. Ash's period of relative silence was enough to give him passing thoughts. One of which involved him being able to contribute to the community in a manner more in line with his zones of competence. CMB had to go through their vetting processes and weed out the undesirable elements from joining them on a more permanent basis. It was the wiser call, he supposed. So he pushed more minutes forward with his duties, making the men's room a safer place for humanity. And storage. Safe storage was important.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Administration (A) (Basement) -> Outside of Admnistration Skills: N/A

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Well, Thalia did tell them to let her know if she could do anything. As if on cue, the medic named Medic called for a gurney. Granted, he had mentioned something else just beforehand, but she didn't have a clue what the hell a "Rolo" was, let alone where to find one in a pinch. This was unfamiliar ground, after all. It wasn't until someone very nearby actually yelled Fiddlesticks that she understood what Medic had called for, and from whom. Rolodex. Of course, the possible medical emergency aside, Thalia was curious as hell about a lady who would actually use Fiddlesticks an an exclamation. Maybe this more nonchalant measure of thinking was due to the fact that Alexander was mostly ambulatory and speaking, despite his sudden and epic bout of horizontalness. he was probably fine. Out in the world she'd have likely mumbled something about walking it off, as injuries that slowed you down usually meant death. But in here they could take some precautions.

Though she had been made aware that Medic wasn't specifically speaking with her, Thalia nonetheless acted as if he was, moving seamlessly from a kneeling position to standing and making for the door behind the local woman. "Ahright, I'm ahn it," she answered back to Medic, tossing it back over her shoulder as she moved. It surprised her a little that she would make a move to grab a gurney in this place for a guy who she figured was okay enough in the first place. Even though she had no idea where they might be, let alone the route to their medical facilities at all. She must have been bored. "Gaht your six," she explained to Rolodex, following along and walking outside eventually as their little adventure continued.

Then the strangest thing happened. Once she hit the less artificial air of the sunny outdoors, something crystallized in Thalia's thoughts. As if just having some down time from working out the problem was all she needed to figure it out, the answer to that god damn riddle she had stuck in her pocket became evident. Still following along, she reached into her pocket and brought out the written copy, shaking her hand to get it open. "Nnn," she enunciated, in a manner of speaking. Yeah, the answer in mind seemed to fit. She was still following along as urgently as the situation called for, but the question left her lips nonetheless, Hey ah, Miss... Dex?" Rolo Dex, Miss Dex - it fit well enough in her head. "Mexico Beach gaht any 'One Way' street signs in it? Wheah'd I find something like that?"

Current Mood in One Gif

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mechanics (K) Skills: N/A

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It was kind of a lucky break for Ash that Hunter showed up late to his job after lunch. Because he was, Ash was moved over to a bathroom that looked far, far less like a cesspit with plumbing fixtures. No gagging, no desire to let fly his delicious tuna casserole across the countryside, no needing to hose off. And more than that, he could attempt to participate in conversation. Not exactly his top priority, getting to know these people and letting them get to know him was the first step into becoming a trusted part of Camp Mexico Beach. That was the goal, assimilate the Newnan people into this established community. Himself included.

The problem was, this conversation he was on the periphery of was sounding more and more like a scene from a sitcom with every passing second. Ash stopped his cleaning for a moment, just a short second or two to give a look in the direction of the Middle Eastern accent that was forcing out a phrase that had to have come from Thana. This sentiment was echoed by Tesla prior to his withdrawal back into the Fabrication section of the building. Responding to his half wave and sentiment of good luck, Ash articulated, "Yeah, thanks," and gave the other half of that wave. Then he got back to cleaning.

It was kind of a shame, Ash wouldn't have minded a conversation with the guy. The work with the prosthetic limbs that he saw on the two people from the Eden Group was enough to warrant a professional discussion of its own merit, and it wouldn't hurt to make contacts with the tool people - people like himself - in this place. Then again, Mizrahi was the resident mechanic, it looked like. It was another thing which kept his interest; working on machines. And he had opted to open a conversation with him, while he worked on the bathroom. So he obliged. It was the neighborly thing to do. And that last charming southern colloquialism that he used was cause for utter confusion. "From the sound of it, it could be briar bush or briar patch. I'm not really familiar with that phrase. My people are from Virginia." He gave a little shrug. "Not sure why you would want to beat a hog, but cutting a switch off of a briar bush seems like a way to do it." He spoke a little slower and more clearly than he did ordinarily. Not to the point of being condescending, but as a polite measure.

Maybe he heard it wrong, anyway. Or maybe he was just thrown off because the phrase coming out of Mizrahi's mouth. The American Southeast spoke its own dialect of English and it was often difficult to understand casual conversation from one region to another. Ash continued to clean, now taking a scrub brush to the places that needed it.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Administration (A) (Lobby -> Basement) Skills: N/A

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It appeared that the use of strange phrases wasn't limited to Mechanics and Fabrication. Thalia could say with grave certainly that it was the first time that she'd heard the expression "Pickle My Peas". She didn't care beyond the novelty of it, so long as she actually tried to do something about the emergency at hand. Had Thalia's hand on the desk have been made of blood and bone, she would have been drumming her nails upon it. The short back-and-forth between Rolodex and the medic, Medic (which was not the most elaborate of code names, but effective enough) was sufficient to poke the limits of Thalia's patience. Her expression testified to exactly that. At least they were moving.

When it looked like Medic was taking the situation seriously, after enough information was communicated by Rolodex, Thalia was a touch more satisfied to note that the man was moving in a more productive manner. Quickly following behind, she barely recognized when the highly unnecessary "After ya," hit her ears; like hell she was going to slow down for the purposes of some useless piece of etiquette when one of her friends was laying on the floor hurt. Thalia didn't have many friends. She tended to push people away before they got the chance to get comfortable. So when people got through her defenses, she was a loyal, if not always nice, friend to them.

But even that wasn't foremost on Thalia's mind right then. What was centered somewhere around putting one foot in front of the other to get down the stairs, her artificial hand leaving a sliding, metallic sound on the handrail in her wake. She was practically boring holes in the back of his head. Mild irritation kicked up when Medic stuck his head in the wrong room. How dare he not be psychic and know automatically which one was the correct room? Disgraceful. Finally, they got to the right room. Thalia gave note to the man props, he was acting in the manner of a medical professional. Quick introduction, immediately getting to the point with questioning. She kept her gaze on the man for a little bit longer, eyeing him as if he might suddenly change his mind about helping Alexander and needed to be pulled off of him. It was a silly notion, but one of many "what could go wrong" contingency musings of the hour. Not wanting to get in the way but wishing to be vocal about her underlying concern, Thalia squatted down on the other side of Alexander and said to Medic, "Lemme know if I can do anything," in a clear but subdued voice.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Mechanics (K) Skills: N/A

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Ash mulled over the words that Mizrahi was stumbling through. He was a bilingual man himself, though it came with its own massive stumbling blocks that hadn't quite gone away. From what he could get out of the man's uncertain verbiage, Ash figured that he had some of the same difficulties that he had, not just in foreign language but in questions of morality on a case by case basis. He ran the sentence that the larger Middle Easterner was trying to say through his head, "Anger quick when protect," searching for the meaning through context of their very short conversation so far. The conversation being that they both tried to be good men, tried, but his anger was quick when ... protecting someone? Ash thought back to the time when, on the road, he swung out of his truck to come to Tatiana's aid. The fact that he was shot nonetheless and couldn't do much in the firefight notwithstanding, he was geared to end people's lives for someone he cared about. Or years ago, when he threatened to sever a man's spinal column with a machete and let him drown in collecting storm waters, with absolute intent to follow through - the man had been part of a group that attacked his people. Or the razor-thin margin by which he did not kill a man he considered his best friend, because he had murdered another who was (by technicality) under his protection as part of his community; it could have gone either way. And those were just a few examples. There was undeniably a darkness in Ash, one that recognized that it was far easier and effective to ensure the safety of others by the direct elimination of the issue in front of them, before it could become a threat. But what kind of a man would that make him, if that was the go-to course of action? And how many lives had he actually taken, with bullet, blade, or motor vehicle, to ensure the survival of his people?

All of those thoughts put a grim set to Ash's face. He nodded slowly, through a momentary faraway look, one a soldier might have who had seen the worst of humanity for too long, and responded "I think I know exactly what you mean." His words were measured and clear, impactful, demonstrating the appearance of true understanding of the nuance of Mizrahi's broken English. "We all had to do things to keep ourselves and our people alive. Sometimes that choice is hard."

The next question, be it the simple utterance of one word, did rather take Ash by surprise. Arabic? Did he speak... ? It finally clicked fully what he meant. "Ah," he responded. "No. English," he continued, then raised his hand a little, holding out his thumb and forefinger some distance apart. "Spanish," he said in explanation of the gesture. He did speak a little Russian, but felt it was not significant enough to give mention.

Attention was diverted as the door to Mechanics opened and Mizrahi engaged in abbreviated but more expeditious conversation with a third party, who he came to find out was Tesla, after he stepped into view. Ash could only assume that they were talking about Hunter, though that was a pretty easy guess given the hints dropped. Ash returned the man's greeting with a quick nod and his own, "Hey," though he pitched it with a little more formality, if such a thing were possible. The exchange continued, and Ash kept out of it, only putting in his two cents when directly addressed, "Will do that, thanks." He was being polite. Ash wasn't quite at the level of being comfortable with friendly banter just yet. He'd get there. Just not today. Today, Ash had a bathroom to finish cleaning, which he got back to presently. Do a good job, maybe next time he gets a better one.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Administration (A) (Basement -> Lobby) Skills: N/A

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Were Thalia a more cynical person, she might have believed that this was part of a great, universal conspiracy to keep her from figuring out these series of riddles. The first time that she asks someone for help (which was actually a feat for her, all things considered), said person gets in a horrible workplace accident that makes him lose consciousness. No to say that Thalia wasn't cynical. It just wasn't her defining characteristic. Yes, before she could even make some sarcastic quip, such as a well timed, "Ha, ha. Very funny, asshole, to Alexander's tunnel question, he was dancing the world's worst Lambada without so much as a steel drum to help him keep beat before the smashing grand finale. Thalia could have facepalmed. These days, that was dangerous for her on account of the metal hand, and she had no desire to put a second unconscious body on the floor.

But all of these thoughts came and went in the space of a second, and mostly stuck around as background noise after during the events of the moment. In the fore or her thoughts, Thalia remembered that she did have some training in First Aid. Not that this was a thing that she was going to directly utilize at the moment, but she knew enough not to mess around with something like this herself. Alexander was an older fellow, there were no Zeds around or hostile Breathers that would necessitate an immediate move, and they were in a place with medical facilities which included trained personnel. Logic and tactic dictated that she play this by the book, much as that phrase was not her favorite.

Two paces saw Thalia snatching up the prosthetic leg. Two more and she was down to her knees, sliding the rest of the way on the floor to Alexander's side. She set the leg down next to him and gave him a look over. No pools of blood or obvious signs of limb removal past the metal one, so she stuck around to make sure less obvious signs weren't present. She didn't know how long it took until the older man regained consciousness and mumbled the possibly very true words that he was getting too old for this shit, but that meant he was in good enough shape to be aware of his situation and status, more or less. That piece of relief handled, Thalia wondered for a fraction of a second if something similar might happen to her fake limb when she had to use it in a fight. That was unsettling. But back to it, Alex was breathing. "Gahd damnit Mugs, don't move if you don't gotta. Your leg's right heah, I'm going to go get someone." Thalia didn't know if he was aware that his prosthetic tried to escape, so that might have come across as a little weird. Well, damage done.

Thalia rose to her feet and made for the exit. It wasn't the breakneck pace of someone running for their life, nor was it a leisurely stroll. Call it a moderate jog. Either way, the woman hit the stairs and took them two at a time, making her way back up to the lobby area. When she emerged into the front lobby, she suddenly felt amazingly out of place. The receptionist(?) was sitting at her appointed place, and Hunter, of all people, was there as well. If she didn't know better, this looked like every standard receiving area in any corporate HQ building she'd ever been in, which smacked of contrast to everything she'd experienced over the past few years. It was a little bewildering, to be frank. Thalia eyed Hunter for a moment, wondering why the hell he was here, but said nothing to him. Instead, she moved to Sandra, thunked her heavy metal fist into the desk and leaned in, speaking so that the clarity of her words was only discernible between the two of them. "Mugsy's had a fall in the basement. Lost consciousness, is awake now. Don't know if he's hurt. Might want to send for a Dahc." So far, straightening up a basement had become one hell of a bloodsport. Had Thalia known there was such adrenaline-fueled danger in cleaning and repurposing rooms like this, maybe she would have taken up maidservice instead of boxing in her youth.