Sigil

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash & Thalia Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A, Stealth

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The tiny elements of a trial were where the only parts that made it interesting, in Ash's opinion. The rest were solid and established protocols for the establishment of jurisprudence, necessary to ensure the closest possible thing to a fair and impartial outcome. Was it perfect? No. Ash noted some details about which he might have gone a different direction, were he in charge. Though giving it some thought, the now-dead settlement of Newnan was run in the fashion of a benevolent military dictatorship with him at the helm following the death of Lt. Colonel McCormick. He alone passed judgement over those living within Newnan's walls. Considering some of Ash's personal issues during this time, perhaps this trial system was better than the summary judgement of a Commanding Officer in the field, as he had done, even if he did not fully agree with every aspect of it. Established order was likely fairer than the whim of a single man, regardless of the apparent decency of that man. With this in mind, Ash remained seated and relatively stone-faced as Hunter rose to his feet, confident that the people of CMB had this under control. It did not stop him from placing a hand on the arm of his chair and tensing, as if to leap to action if necessary, though this was suppressed like many other things about him, his observations of the court officials assuaging his feelings of urgency.

Continued testimony went with far less in the way of drama (except for a cough from the back of the room). This was more ideal. Drama in courtrooms was for primetime television. When they called for a short recess, Ash remained as he was. He had no immediate need to visit the facilities, and was had to admit a sense of curiosity in how things were handled in the room between sessions. Added security? Lax? Sealed room? Or merely people twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the trial to resume?

Thalia, on the other hand, had her own, evolving agenda. Aside from the fact that she had to be there due to the post-apocalyptic equivalent of a court summons, she had her own reasons for wanting to be there. A desire to see what passed for a trial here was one. Now, seeing how the security team worked was another. Hunter's sudden movement, and the reactions of everyone around him, were fairly entertaining. Moreso was her brother's reaction. The cold, unyielding stare of a man who she knew from personal experience was calmly contemplating killing the guy in front of him if this developed much farther. She couldn't help but smile a little. One observing her might even feel a little unnerved at the expression, considering the simple, direct, possibly bloody course of events which might follow. She did not smile because of the potential for looming death, as many might think of her. Her views on the application of violence were cold and utilitarian in its application. Dispassionate about the actual stabbing and shooting, if not the reasons behind it. Joaquin's reaction reminded her very much of their uncle. Less growling, but like the old man himself. It was strangely nostalgic. The flamboyant man was definitely Familia.

Another portion of her agenda was rooted in the idea that she needed to be out and active to better regain her sense of personal spatial perception, what with the loss of her hand. It had affected her more than she wanted to admit out loud. Using and relearning the subtleties of her more dexterity and athletic based skillset was paramount. And what better way to practice than out and around people? For starters, she made her attempt to move unnoticed with the crowd of people departing the room. Unfortunately, her chair had other ideas. The drawn out rrrnsqueeeeeeaky that came of her removing her weight from the seat completely obliterated her chances of doing that. As did the unintended clack of her steel hand against the chair back as she rose. Keeping her shit together as best she might despite the rising irritation threatening to color her face, Thalia immediately vowed to change her plans for being here in Camp Mexico Beach. To hell with learning new skills. She was surviving fine without them. She needed to bolster and relearn the ones she already had, starting with hitting, stabbing, and stealth. She was a goddamned shadow, once upon a time. This was embarrassing.

In the back of the room, a breathy, quiet chuckle sounded immediately following the very innocent and hardly noticeable fit of coughing coming from the venerable gentleman with the imaginary friend. The chuckle did not come from the man himself, rather, but the man sitting next to him. Hank was a man who took matters of civil court proceedings seriously, and was a little annoyed that Wayne did that, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to get a little mirth in. And he was a touch upset that he didn't think to do it first. In any case, he wasn't the grudge holding type today, so he simply rose from his seat when they called for a recess, citing, "Taking a piss there, Maldonado." and exited, to return shortly thereafter with a more relieved look on his face.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway & Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Ash looked with curiosity as he realized that Hunter did not dispute the charges laid in front of him in any way. First he was given the option to leave if he wished, no harm, no foul, and rejected it. Now he did not even plead one way or another before witnesses were called. Or, the first witness, anyway. He was unclear as to the stage of a Court Martial they were in, though to be fair, a small, autonomous unit like Camp Mexico Beach couldn't exactly go by strict interpretation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. The setup seemed like a more compassionate form of a drumhead trial; that being a court martial put together in the field, usually in a warzone or during a state of emergency. Ash had read about these during his time at the Virginia Military Institute. They were covered in Military History and Theory classes, albeit briefly. Performed by most nations' military in one form or another, mostly in the nineteenth century, they were notorious for already having a verdict and sentencing ready before the actual trial was called to order. This one held a different feel, though. Certain allowances had to be made for the reality of the world they lived in, and being objective, everyone was constantly in a state of emergency. It was compelling to Ashton to view and process the protocol he saw unfold before him. With genuine interest, he continued to take in the CMB trial process, and what it meant for Hunter's future.

Meanwhile, Thalia was feeling a little exposed as she sitting in her seat off to the side. It was bad enough that she drew every piece of attention to herself when she sat down, even after doing her utmost to remain as unnoticed as a wisp of fog in a shadow. That part bothered her more than it really should have, giving it some reflection. She used to be a much quieter, stealthy person, and now... it was a blow to her reputation, now that she was in a place that was vaguely familiar with her background. Or her family's background, at least. It was irritating. On the plus side, it would serve as decent psychological fuel to get herself back to her sneaky, fighting best over the course of however long they would allow her to train in this place. This trial wasn't even a blip on her radar past the information is provided on how things worked here and the nature of those who were in charge. If called upon, Thalia would be a good girl and do as asked - truth, whole truth, nothing but - though for her this was an information gathering opportunity.

From somewhere in the back, Hank was also looking over the proceedings in earnest, though his interest was in getting a good, long look at the people as they spoke. He had a talent for reading the nuances and actions of others, and this was like an edgy, psychological smorgasbord to feast upon. In between people talking, he would play a random game of rock-paper-scissors with his hetero lifemate, Wayne. He did speak once, very quietly, to his friend during a transitional period in the proceedings as to not give even the appearance of interruption. It was a question unrelated to anything going on with the trial. "Hey buddy, you um, you remember that cat that came in with us?" he whispered, almost to soft to hear up close. "Have you seen it at all since quarantine? You think it's even still alive? You don't suppose..." His thoughts went back to a meal with a protein source he couldn't quite identify from a couple days ago. "Nah, couldn't be." He shook it off and returned to viewing the fun up front.

*Nothing to see here*

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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It finally looked like the Court Martial was about to begin in earnest. There was a contrast to this trial and other military tribunals of its ilk, that being a decided presence of calmness, even compassion on the part of the General when dealing with Hunter. To Ash's experience, these matters were typically handled with a level of stoic detachment, an amount of dispassion necessary for all concerned to focus on what could be stated and proven conclusively during the proceedings, no more and no less. Not even witnesses of character spoke with much in the way of inflection designed to sway opinion. But sure enough, this guy was being handled in a way that reminded Ash of an interview, not a Court Martial.

It was a hell of a list of charges nonetheless. Drunk and Disorderly Conduct, in a setting more than five years ago, might be a career ender depending upon what transpired during. Six months in a stockade and pay forfeiture as a maximum didn't seem so bad at first but having this on your record destroyed any chance at promotion unless you could somehow mitigate it with a Bronze Star or better immediately following, which was perhaps why so many soldiers who weren't already in a forward position would request this after time spent in lockup. But the other charges stacked together like this? Yes, Hunter screwed up big. Of this there was no doubt. Had he not military experience himself and knowledge that he was entering an area controlled by military remnants, Ash might have called for some sort of leniency, even clemency based on the idea that Hunter didn't know what was expected of him. Not that his words bore the same kind of authority they once did. In a proceeding such as this, many voices might be heard nonetheless. It was a moot point overall; Hunter did have military experience, he did know what he was walking into, and he was given an opportunity to leave as soon as Quarantine was over. This was a path that he set himself upon.

Ash was curious, then, to see that Hunter had opted to remain when given the chance to leave without further incident, with supplies enough to give him a head start. Was he going to take his lumps and see this through, or was there a factor that Ash has not considered? He refused to allow himself to pass a judgement right at this moment, having keen interest in how this proceeding would go now that it was decided that all parties were intent on staying put. With the demeanor of a professional soldier, Ash sat straight in his chair and cast his eyes forward, awaiting the next phase of the tribunal.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills:

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It was hard to remove the woman that Thalia used to be from her completely. The last few years had changed her irrevocably, this was for certain. Yet despite this change, the moment that Hunter and those guarding him entered the room she felt her legs tensing, feet sliding beneath her to carry her weight upward. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that that Joaquin was with the group, taking the rear guard position with what was most certainly his "work face" activated. Her senses quickly tuned to the surroundings, this time regarding other details about the room than those specifically for personal survival. She swiftly scanned the exits again, this time to determine which would be the most likely means of egress if Hunter tried to make a break for it. Likewise, the readiness of the guards for response if called upon, which she figured was adequate. But more than that, Thalia gave fast acumen to what she might do in Hunter's position, if she was certain that it was going to go badly for her.

For starters, she sure as hell wouldn't have allowed herself to be led into a building. Enclosed walls limited survival options in this circumstance. But if it couldn't be helped, and she was unarmed, the first thing she might do would be to look for an improvised weapon. Something sharp would do if she couldn't get her hands (hand) on a pistol. In her state a revolver would have been preferable so that she might take a hostage with her blunt arm and quickly operate the weapon, but seeing as the accused had two working hands at his disposal a semiautomatic would suffice well enough. And from the look of the distance to the nearest exits, a hostage would be necessary. Not someone who was in a good position to defend themselves. Sadly, Aeron was the best target for this, if only he could be gotten to before others pounced. He would be able to recognize his situation, not freak out, and attempt to deescalate rather than directly attack. Well, she thought, anyway. Calculated risk.

Her thoughts might have gone farther, hypothetically delving into full escape plans from the community altogether, but actually attempting this was not her goal. Like a break-in artist hired to penetrate a secure facility to troubleshoot their defenses, this entire, four-second assessment was to establish what options that Hunter had were he to try an escape and subvert them before he could accomplish anything. It was her initial career training reasserting itself, coupled by the fact that another member of La Familia was in the mix here. A kneejerk reaction made her want to be involved. In fact, Thalia only came to her senses and stopped herself when she realized that she had raised slightly out of her seat. Between that and the scrutiny she had just given to key points of the environment, she hoped no one was paying too close of attention to her. Moving to join the security detail would have been extremely foolish.

The list of charges, protocol involved, and everything following seemed simple enough. Streamlined from what she was accustomed, again, and with a more personal touch from the man in charge. Thalia calmed herself and as before, merely tried to absorb the proceedings as they continued. She was sure that the detail here had everything under control and the kid seemed to be responding with calm enough deference. She took in a breath, let it out slowly, and settled back fully into her chair that thankfully did not give away their position again.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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Ashton's goal was to try and put the oddity that was Hank out of his mind for the present. Compared to many a goal that he had set for himself over the years, this seemed very minor. But the annoyance factor was high. Not just because the man was blunt, forcing a mostly one-sided conversation where he wasn't asked for one, but because part of his rant was right. It was true, Thana was, as the older man had put it, a "warrior woman". Not like his last romantic involvement, who was more of a clannish rogue type; but a woman who had sworn an oath not unlike his own, and seemed to strive to keep it even though the entity to whom that oath was given no longer existed. Honor in the wasteland, as it were.

And to be quite frank, getting in some time with a fishing didn't sound bad. If only the man who suggested it wasn't an asshole.

In any other given circumstance, Ash might have responded immediately to Nigel's nonverbal question Circumstances had him reeling from the sudden assault upon his sense of hearing coming from one side of the rows of chairs, followed by swearing in two languages, however. Ash looked back, noting who was responsible and giving an odd thought that this particular apple might have fallen far from the family tree. Shaking it off, he turned back to Nigel and responded, like the initial query, nonverbally. It looked a lot like a cross between a shrug and a had shake, indicating both "I don't know," and "I'm not sure I want to know." He made no objection to the man taking a seat, and why would he? This was an open proceeding for all to attend, and Ash wasn't really the antisocial type, if he did have a tendency toward stoicism.

Almost a a relief, the Court Martial geared up to begin. It all sounded very much like what Ash remembered of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Orderly, simple, subject to the judgement of a council of assembled officers. Maybe it wasn't the Military that he remembered from years past; this looked adapted in a few details to account for the circumstances of their reality. His memory glossed over a few incidents where he had to attend a Court Martial; as an officer he was occasionally called upon as witness or to help arbitrate (usually in the form of having the minimum numbers of bodies present to make things official). This was all pretty basic.

Then Wayne had to toss his two cents in. Fair enough question, he supposed, for someone not familiar with military protocol on such matters. And being truthful with himself, one advantage to surviving out in the world was a nigh endless amount of places to urinate at a moment's notice. Like a long-term hunting trip, except you were rarely the top guy on the food chain. In any case, when all of those present were asked for words or concerns, Ash remained quiet, giving but a single shake of his head to signify that no, he indeed had nothing to add. Not until called upon.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: Stealth

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Thalia didn't like being looked at. Attention was really not her thing, even if all of the people in the room were her close friends and family, which they were not. Okay, one family member. And a few friends. None of which were near her, as it was her intention originally to keep out of the way of people and sit unnoticed. That plan flopped in a massive, previously unforeseen way, thanks to her making a questionable seating choice. Oh, she had lost a lot of who she was when she was maimed, but sometimes, somehow, it felt like an angry god was staring down upon her, doling out perfectly random pieces of failure in response to things she could do flawlessly a year prior. Was this supposed to be some kind of all-purpose trial? If so, game on.

The more survivalist nature of Thalia kicked in as she scanned the room. Maybe it was the occasion of having so many eyes on her at once that was making her a little paranoid. No one was within striking distance of her and there were clear paths to exits; lighting was regular and adequate to her needs. Also, she could spot Thana up on the balcony. Whether she had the ability to cover or not, it was a comfort having someone in an elevated position that she could trust. It was the same drill she would put herself through, among other little rituals, over the course of her time out from behind the relative safety of community. Silly, perhaps. But the habit kept her alive so far. And it was a comfort during a time that made her feel a touch insecure. Once eyes averted from her and the important people started talking, she felt better.

She bore a little genuine interest in what was being said. She was part of the community now and wanted to know how things were run here. Also, despite her history with the Company, she was not military. Things were different. Any legalities she was involved in, and admittedly there were a few, ran through civilian courts. And of those instances, the vast majority took place in Boston. A Court Martial was a different sort of tribunal than to which she was accustomed. Fine. New stuff. It even looked like a much simpler process than civilian law. Thalia stayed quiet and hoped, for this reason more than anything, it would at least be short in duration. Thalia slumped in her chair in an effort to get more comfortable and a little less noticeable, then waited to see what was happening next.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Education Center (M) Skills: N/A

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It was possible that Ash enjoyed the quick hug from Thana a little more than the situation had called for. Then again, he had to make up for lost time. The remainder of the situation, in contrast to many of the faces he saw around him, was actually somewhat comforting. This was a situation that struck with familiarity with him, being a career officer in the United States Army. A Court Martial, if it went more of less by the standards of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, meant that he could observe and predict proceedings to one degree or another. In truth, Ash was more than a little curious as to how this was going to deviate from the standard.

Ash took a seat toward the front and, almost reflexively, looked back over his shoulder to see of he could locate Thana on the balcony above. He was happy to have spotted her immediately, sharing a look with her and a little wave before trying to settle into his seat to await the start of the proceedings. It was a satisfying feeling, knowing that she was looking down on him from on high. If Ash were in a forward position on hostile ground, he'd feel the same sort of reassurance knowing that she held the high ground someplace quiet with a sniper system, covering his ass. Even if it was all metaphorical at the moment.

The moment that he focused his attention back around to the front, Ash was startled to see that there was a face hovering close to his, attached to an older guy sitting right next to him. Ash's muscles tensed before he could tell his body to stand down, that this was not a threat. Hank Wright. He hadn't been a threat yet but Ash was convinced that if he was assigned him as a survival buddy, he might have to scratch an itch in the back of his head with a bullet before too long. Or until some kind of personality-based homeostasis could be achieved.

"A little jumpy there, Debra Do-Right?" Hank whispered, not wanting to draw much in the way of attention but still wondering exactly why he didn't want to draw any attention. Maybe it was courtesy. Maybe he liked Ash, just a little. Hell, maybe he respected the guy a lot. The more he'd heard of what Captain Holloway did over the past several months, the more he sounded like some kind of folk hero. Seriously, who the hell goes on a epic quest to reunite with a woman they'd almost immediately fallen in love with, stayed true to quest for a year and a half, and helped survivors along the way? Then pulled it off? Not to mention the rumors about him. This was shit from bad television or good literature, depending on how much he'd had to drink. No, that last part might just be it: Ash had his name on a bottle of clear mountain whiskey and that was very much alright by Hank. Must be it.

But getting to business, Hank was really looking for Wayne and just happened to come by Ash. So as long as he was here... "Hey. Look um, man to man here; what's it like being with a warrior woman, huh? That lady looks fierce in all the right ways, am I right?" The flash of anger in Ash's face came and went in a fraction of a heartbeat, but Hank caught it. The man was apparently good at practicing the manly art of observable stoicism. Hank heaved out a mildly sarcastic sigh, followed by, "Fine. Be a gentleman about it, jackass." He then immediately switched gears with, "Hey, you and me need to get some fishing time in, what do you say? Maybe get the other quiet man, um, man who interviewed me. Mac! Yeah. He's a good guy. What do you think? Put some poles in the water? In a totally hetero way, I promise."

Ash looked at him coldly, his face carved of cold granite but seething with annoyance underneath. He did give Hank a nod, though whether it was in earnest or just to get rid of him was debatable. Hank seemed to take it positively, telling him "Great! I'll try to set something up," and slapped him on his shoulder as he rose from the seat. The moment that he placed strain to move to a standing position, he involuntarily allowed a low, honking amount of methane based vapor to escape his posterior. He had a half-second of embarrassment on his face, then shrugged it away and announced to Ash, "You enjoy that." Looking up to Thana on the balcony, Hank raised his fingers in an OKAY gesture for no other reason than to sow confusion, a mischievous smile upon his face. He finally spotted Wayne and wandered off in his direction.

His mood thoroughly thrown, and now having no idea what he really, truly just nodded an acceptance toward, Ash sat dumbfounded. The man (Hank) hadn't bothered to speak to anyone in his presence in a week, and now busts out with this nonsense. His lead-in to the conversation gave Ash a serious piece of consideration to hitting him as hard as he could - just once - as a preventative measure in case he got any more foolish ideas for conversation. Still, what came to mind mostly in this instance was the same thing that he wondered aloud, annoyance clearly marking his voice. "What the hell just happened?" Then, of course, came the call for quiet. That was fine. Ash didn't have a lot to say anyway.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Education Center (M) Skills: Stealth

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While idling in the front of the Education Center, Thalia was surprised to get a "Yo" from Volts as he passed by on the street. The thought was something of a hindsight realization that she was in a community, putting down permanency with cumulative actions, this last one being that she involved herself in a fight in the gym. In enough time, people might consider themselves friends of hers, a circumstance which Thalia did not give due consideration. A thing which she hadn't really thought of until just then also was Thana's advice on her hair. Were they actually getting domesticated enough to start trading grooming tips? Thalia hadn't considered braids before. Her pixie cut was easy to maintain out in the world and kept the hair from her face. Now, shaving the sides? Thalia had meant it as a joke to begin with, just some excuse to say to follow up on the lead. Now that she was really thinking about it... she had a maybe going on. If she didn't like it, there wouldn't be much of a wait (so far as hair growth went) before it grew back to an acceptable length for her usual, shorter style.

But even this turned into a thing she would have to put on the back burner. There were things to do, questions to answer, and from the look of Nigel who had just entered, more people with whom socialization would have to be attempted. To give him credit, he was right about the day being interesting. In the coming near future, probably. For Thalia, it was already pretty odd. This was just heaping more onto the pile. She didn't address potential interest in the coming hours except to nod, and even her response to his camaraderie was stunted. Though she did acknowledge him. "Yah, thanks. I'm sure you will." Not merely pleasantries, she was pretty sure that if it didn't involve hand fighting or a short blade, he would probably kick her ass in a fair fight. And what was training other than a series of controlled, fair exchanges? Thalia was going to re-learn humility, she could just tell. Maybe she needed to.

Okay, introspective bullshit done. Thalia had somewhere to be and moved to get there. The sooner this got started, the sooner it would be over. She caught Joaquin's eye and nodded, for some reason surprised to see him here. It was not a very bright assessment on her part, seeing as the guy was working security for the settlement and this, while not walking a patrol or bodyguard duty, was nonetheless part of it. She should know. That was her profession, once upon a time. Perhaps she was out of practice. Things had been a little weird with Joaquin since she had confessed to him the deal with Gavin. It could be her imagination. She knew this was not simply a forget-and-move-on scenario. Still, a little confirmation from him might be nice. Admittedly, now was not the time. He was on duty and she needed to be inside.

Wishing to proceed unnoticed, Thalia broke away from the group entering with her and became as nondescript as possible, hiding her form behind whatever barriers or visual breaks she could without arousing suspicion to the fact that she was trying to make herself scarce. This was a thing she was good at. Or used to be. The past few attempts to remain out of sight and thought did not come to as excellent fruition as she once might have been able to accomplish. But this time felt different. She was moving with grace and nonchalance, nary an eye moving near her direction. This was what she was built for, by birth and training. She was a mist in the shadows, flowing effortlessly and unnoticed. Thalia located a seat that was in the approved area, off to the side yet not so far away as to draw attention, with good access to exits and room to slump down in the chair, and even a respectable view of the first row of the balcony above. Thalia was good at picking stealthy places that afforded good visibility for her own endeavors.

Thalia made her way down, over, and through, laying claim on her chosen place of rest until she could answer questions and book it for anything else that day. She quietly glided her lithe, toned form into place, and started to fold down the seat for use.

This was her big mistake.

The horrified young woman slipped her body into the chair as it was folding out, putting additional strain on a piece of furniture that desperately required oil, or graphite, or an axe to reduce the damned thing into firewood for the awful noise that it made. It was a loud, sustained grating of metal upon wood that didn't quite fit upon each other but was being forced to anyway; carpenters' materials that screamed their disapproval at being awakened to function in the manner of their construction. It was a protest of many decibels, cutting through the otherwise mostly quiet auditorium and drawing eyes of every sort present. Any hope of not being noticed evaporated with this piece of woodstained horror announcing to the world that THALIA WAS HERE. She might as well have gone around posting fliers and wearing a crown of lit candles.

But that wasn't the worst part of it. As the chair came to the last of its descent to becoming fully open, it seemed to hit a snag, which the weight of its user caused it to overcome by force. And she'd be damned if it didn't make a sound that was forever etched into Thalia's brain, until the day she gived up her mortal coil and leaves this earth: Mmkwack-squeakee! Seething with quiet rage, Thalia was able to hiss out, "Fucking chingado goddamn PATOS!" before restraining herself and praying that the chair was done blowing her position.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Mess Hall (C) -> Education Center (M) Skills: Stealth

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Oh, Thana was a sarcastic little bitch, wasn't she? First thing out of her mouth was some comment about her eating habits, the entirety of which she'd witnessed while they were on the road. True, the situation was different out there, where you had to eat what you could, when you could, with as little ceremony as possible. Even when things were more secure, such as when they were in a cleared, locked-down dwelling with chairs and tables, forks and such, Thalia had retained fewer fucks to give than average on the subject of table manners. She had them, granted; it wasn't like she was raised by wolves out in the deepest of woodlands, even if she spent a huge chunk of the ongoing apocalypse out there. She was raised at first by a more or less decent mother in an upscale part of Boston until she was ten, then by her father (and his people), a Catholic priest operating near Monterrey in Nuevo Leon, Mexico. She knew manners. And makeup. She had a formal education, diction, and many would argue breeding. She was simply indifferent to it all. It gave her no advantage in this new world whatsoever, or at least it hadn't so far. In fact, it started out as a hindrance as she clung to her more urban ways, forcing her to adapt away from them for survival.

To wit, Thalia's response to being compared to a feral dog, when Thana knew full well that said comparison wasn't really that far away from the reality of her situation, was a simple, "Nnn." It was the same noncommittal, monosyllabic sort of noise she made to acknowledge someone speaking to her, or for any other number of reasons where actual words were pointless. Fitting to Thana's observation, it was very close to a growl. Thalia tended to do that. She didn't even bother to slow, let alone stop, her meal in progress.

The bit about pinkies out left impression enough, which did cause her to stop eating, if only for a moment. Slowly, her head tilted up from her plate so what she could lock eyes with Thana, mouth still working through what was already in there. Still staring at her, Thalia moved her hands, flesh and steel both, in front of her so that Thana could openly see her manually actuate the pinky on her prosthetic. She extended the artificial digit and locked it into place, then tried to return to her meal. Even this effort was in vain, seeing as Thana continued to press her for conversation. But this time, she got a response out of Thalia. She knew something. or suspected something. Thana was the one who put her on this dumbass quest that she would have been a lot happier not being a part of, but for the sake of sheer, morbid curiosity (and to better learn the layout of CMB) could not just abandon. So, how was her day? Did anything happen? Thalia's response was not within the context of the questions, though she felt it was in the spirit of the inquiry. "I'm thinking ahn getting a haircut, Navy," she started, swallowing hard. "Shave the sides of my head. Maybe tahlk to Shears some while I'm theah. He knows things, right?" Despite herself, Thalia started to crack a smile. The woman in front of her was like a sister to her, making the bullshit Dora The Explorer Scavenger Hunt she inflicted upon Thalia more of an act of love than anything else. An annoying, rage-inducing, I-want-to-strangle-this-woman act of love. Like a sister. Thalia shook her head, the smile still there. It did a poor job of hiding the anger that seemed permanently etched upon her face. She didn't mention the fight in the gym. If others wanted to share, that was on them.

After a little while, Thalia saw Ashton in the line for a tray. This looked like the perfect time to slip away unnoticed, hopefully to avoid whatever initial, half sickening declarations of squishiness the two of them would have for each other. That, and she had to be at the Education Center shortly for the Court Martial. Thalia hated to be the last person someplace unless she could get in unnoticed. Too much attention paid to her when she already stood out. So she gestured to the line of lunchgoers, observing, "Hey, isn't that your man, over there?" The moment she was sure line of sight with her was broken, Thalia rose and gathered up her tray, intent on blending into the crowd by the time Thana looked back. Unfortunately, her fork slipped off and clattered to the table. It was not enough noise to raise a general alarm, but certainly sufficient to disrupt her attempt. Playing it off, Thalia offered up, "I'm going to get a good seat for the trial. Hope we can hang out lateh on," before going about her way.

Soon enough, Thalia was entering the Education Center, looking around for indications of where she was going to have to go for whatever role she was to play in the proceedings.

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Ash Holloway Location: Quarantine (W) -> Mess Hall (C) Skills: N/A

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"Um... no, Guy." It was really the only thing that Ash could say to the fact that Guy somehow took him seriously when he said that Officers' Quarters had miraculously acquired cable television. If anything, the fact that Guy couldn't tell that he was being sarcastic spoke more to how long Ash hadn't quite been himself. Guy knew him before anyone probably anyone else who was still alive, and was fully aware of his once-proclivity for sarcastic comment in the face of any situation that wasn't professional in nature. "Sorry, haven't flexed my snark in a while." Or not enough, at any rate.

Just as much as Guy passed over the slip, calling him "Boss", Ash passed over it, too. It was a little comforting, like a reminder of things from years back. Working at the family's distillery long ago, when both Ash and Guy were much younger, much different men. "You should, you know. Sign up, I mean. You're a hell of a shot and never let me down. You'd make a stellar officer, Guy." It was a thing he wouldn't have said back in the day. But now, he meant it wholeheartedly, with one exception. The day that Maria Smith entered into the protection of Newnan and decided to assume duties in the watchtower without orders or even telling anybody in advance. Guy must have thought it was a legit shift change but didn't bother to confirm one way or the other, and allowed a first-day newbie to take over the primary watch/sniping position over the whole of the settlement. Oh, Ash had words for him. And he assigned Guy stable duty, shoveling shit on everyone's shift for the next thirty days, if memory served. But Ash also remembered how he took the punishment with humility and grace, accepting it, offering apology, and committing to his work without complaint. Guy would have made an excellent soldier, a superior officer, and he was an asset to any community he called home. "Let me know if you need a letter of recommendation," he said with a tiny smile. It was only half a joke, seeing as a LoR was one of those odd formalities that really didn't have bearing in the world today. But if it was to be done, Ash was the best person to give one for him. After all, Guy had worked for him three times - once for his family as Ash managed the floor of the distillery, and again when he took control of the Esmont community (prior to handing the reins over to Lt. Colonel Leann McCormick when their groups merged), and finally when he inherited command of Newnan following Leann's death.

All of that would be for another time, as things of this nature tended to be. Following along with Guy, Ash responded to his question about Thana being in the Mess Hall today. "Believe so, yes." It hadn't quite solidified in his mind, upon making the decision to get a quick lunch before attending the Court Martial, that he might get the chance to see Thana beforehand. The mild surprise reflected in his voice.

It looked like luck was with Ash. Entering the Mess Hall with Guy, the first thing he did was scan the room for Thana. At first, he expected to see her with the staff, even so far as getting ready to ask if she was in the kitchen someplace. That was unnecessary as Ash caught sight of her at one of the tables. Her hair got his sense of familiarity at first, out of the corner of his eye, and further recognition followed from there. But she was sitting with that mildly caustic Gonzalez woman. This might make for an awkward meal, like the last one they all had together. Ash bolstered himself with a more optimistic outlook, reasoning that just because something offputting happened once, it didn't mean it would again. They were all allies here, and some were as close as family. Plus, he wasn't about to be deterred from sitting with Thana based upon something that might happen, with little in the way of actual consequence even if it did. "C'mon, Guy," said Ash, moving to get in line for a tray and then walking to join Thana at her table. By the time that he got over to her, Ash was almost relieved to see that Thalia had already vacated the table, off to wherever she was going next.

"Hey. Missed you today," greeted Ash, taking a seat next to Thana. They didn't have a whole lot of time left before the Court Martial was slated to begin, but any amount of time to be with Thana, even just a few minutes to toss back a quick meal, was worth it to Ash. He said as much to her with, "Got to be at the Education Center soon. Glad I got a chance to see you before. How's your day going?" He might have gone for a more physical display of affection for greeting, but Ash wasn't sure if Thana was off duty or just on a meal break. Perhaps he'd get a better feel for the place with a little more time immersed in CMB. For now, he was playing it safe as to not damage Thana's credibility among her peers and/or subordinates. Though the look in his eyes held nothing but affection for her.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Quarantine (W) Skills: N/A

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A vaguely amused look passed briefly over Ash's face, which was about as much as he could muster in usual in circumstances. The reaction that Guy had to his suggestion that he was crushing on S.B. was diverting, to say the least. Not that he knew the woman very well himself; she just seemed like the person least compatible with Guy working in Medical. But thinking about it, why the hell not? There were differences between the two of them, yes, but Ash also had to consider his relationship with Alicia - He was still the dutiful soldier, straight laced and clean cut, dutifully functioning within the chain of command, whereas Alicia had a problem with authority, was something of a wild card, and prone to acts of violence. They did not match in the classical sense. Maybe a Goliath/Scary Bitch union wasn't too far fetched. The apocalypse makes for strange bedfellows. He'd seen it before.

What was starting to bother Ash was the fact that his oldest living friend was holding back because he was afraid of what might happen if he loved and lost. It struck him a little personally. But first, he had to address the awful attempt at subject change before talking to Guy with mostly serious, emotional honesty. "Officers' Housing is great. We have espresso machines and they figured out cable television." He looked at his friend with an expression that very plainly let him know that switching topics wasn't going to happen right that second. "Guy, there are a few times when holding back is good." He didn't ask for advice and Ash wasn't exactly an emotionally open person, but he was giving it anyway. "When you've got lives you're responsible for. Waiting for intel. When inaction develops an advantage. Hell, when you want to make someone nervous. It's even fun sometimes." Ash looked Guy dead in his eyes, letting the rest of the room filter away for a while. "There is no advantage to denying yourself a chance at being happy because you're afraid of what might happen. Lives aren't at stake. This is not an issue of security, nor of resources. You're talking about fear. I get it, fear keeps you alive. But goddamnit Guy, even if this was the world that used to be, there's no guarantees on anything. Every single thing that I went through, I would go through again." Then again, armed with a greater sense of introspective self awareness, that hypothetical second time would be a lot more stable than the first. He hoped.

Ash gathered back the freshly cut cards, looked at them for a moment, and slid them back into their box. He was talking more than usual again. If he kept it up, it might become a trend. If that trend continued, it might wind up being a full personality change, and Ash didn't know if he was ready for that sort of commitment. Going on a year-plus epic quest to find his girlfriend that he fell in love with after a very short span of time was a level of change he was willing to go through. Being more talkative? Not so much. Hopefully though, his newfound positivity might rub off on Guy. "I'm going to grab some lunch, Guy. I'd like it if you'd join me. It there's time after, maybe get you a date for the court martial. Or a walk on the beach. Whatever."

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Gymnasium (K7) -> C, Mess Hall Skills: N/A

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Thalia wasn't completely happy that bets were being placed concerning the outcome of the sparring match between she and Nigel. For that matter, she wasn't all that thrilled that it took place out in the open with people looking on, but these were the concessions one had to make when living around people, which she obviously did now. In truth, the whole thing felt a little uncomfortable. Things like this never used to bother her before. When she first learned boxing, it was in front of people. Matches when she was a kid, same deal. But time and circumstances had changed her in ways she hadn't noticed until it was done. Thalia glanced down at the metal analogue of her former hand and huffed out a sigh. That was a change she saw coming the minute the power saw got revved up and her friends held her down. The circumstances around this sparring session were ones to which she would have to grow accustomed. It was like the air conditioning. Things she didn't know she didn't want anymore, or that made her uncomfortable.

Still, her own sense of being a sideshow attraction aside, Thalia had to give credit where it was due. "Yah. Thanks, Hadrian. Good round." She hand out her steel hand to him for a fist bump, trying hard to avoid eye contact with anyone else in the room. When they got into weapons practice, unless it was a short blade, Thalia was pretty sure she'd be on the receiving end of a beatdown. Nigel might not have known that she was a damn good boxer prior to ...everything. Even damaged as she was now, her skills hadn't fully left her. Or maybe he did know, and stepped into the ring (metaphorically) anyway. Either way, he took his lumps (and gave a couple), remaining straightforward about it. Everyone else in the room could kiss her ass; Nigel earned a slice of respect from the lady. And the other guys a mote of annoyance for helping him off of the floor. To Thalia's mind, that was her responsibility. She put him there, she picked him back up. Like in a barfight - unless it was personal, if you knocked someone unconscious then you stuck around to make sure they were okay.

Thalia tilted her head to the side a little, pondering over that last thought. It was possible that she was raised under a warped sense of family ethic that somehow melded into the Boston drinking scene, which became as irretrievably scarred as herself by the circumstances of the last five or so years. Yeah, she was a mess. Moving on.

Without a word to anyone else, Thalia stalked back into the changing room and got back into her street clothes as quickly as she was able. She kept with the look she was sporting earlier, where she rolled up the sleeves of her button down shirt and tied it in the front like some post-apocalyptic sports bra. And thinking about it, Volts did have a good idea about grabbing lunch. So it was without giving notice to anyone else that Thalia slipped out of the gymnasium and made her way through the rain up a block and over another, across the street and into a building that had that fucking air conditioning making every drop of water that hit her a tiny dagger of ice across her skin.

Thalia didn't waste time getting all hot and bothered over the selection of food, merely content to grab a tray and find a corner to sit in while she stuffed whatever it was into her face with a minimum of ceremony. Or manners. Something was irritating her beyond that which was apparent, but for the life of her, Thalia could not figure out what it was.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Quarantine (W) Skills: N/A

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"Pair of fours," remarked Ash, showing his cards before dropping them face down on top of Guy's in the discard pile. "I asked for a crap hand, Guy. You did not disappoint." It was a apt summary of the game thusfar. Even though he technically won the exchange, it was a hollow victory at best. Stakes wouldn't have made it much better, either. But the technicalities of the situation did have him winning, so he felt it perfectly logical to begin gathering the cards up to deal. Two or three shuffles in, a thought trickled through Ash's brain as to the possible identity of Guy's mystery lady. Or more specifically, the only lady that he remembered working in Medical, though there had to be more than just one. "Hold on, it's not S.B., is it?" The look on Ash's face was dubious, even a little sarcastic, but the image of those two holding hands at a social event struck him as amusing.

"Look, I'm not an advice guy here, so grain of salt, huh?" He grew more serious, a little more like the version of Ash who came before the lighter, more relaxed one at present. "Don't be me. Talk to this lady. Life's too goddamn short, nothing holding you from a conversation. Is there?" It's not like concepts like "class divide" were still viable in any but the most abstract of philosophies. And Guy was a really stand-up, well, guy. Hard working, decent, loyal, and a fellow Esmont native. Those qualities alone should have gotten any number of women to turn their heads already. Ash shook his head, "Looking at the ratio here, I'd say something sooner rather than later."

Ash looked across the room to Wayne and little Jaime, his more serious expression cracking a bit. Maybe there was hope for the Human race after all. Then he got back to the cards. Another quick shuffle or two and he lay the deck in between the two of them, offering, "Cut?"

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Thalia & Nigel Location: Gymnasium (K7) Skills: Hard Martial Arts, Hand to Hand

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As soon as the open spot in the makeshift gymnasium was open, its last occupants having pummeled each other sufficiently to sate their need for sport, Thalia made her way over. She wasn't kidding that she had someplace to be. The exact location just wasn't known until moments ago. Still, lingering doubts of her own remained concerning her own ability to defend herself which might be acknowledged here and now. The loss of Thalia's forearm had wrecked more than her ability to open ketchup bottles. She had to relearn balance. Retrain feats of manual dexterity that were second nature beforehand. Her fighting style could no longer rely on her being the fastest and most accurate person in the room. But Thalia still had her stamina, which had seen her through many difficulties. So this was one hell of a litmus test for how she went forward.

The fight between Medic and Volt had been brief, but engaging. Nigel had payed close attention to it, trying to conjure up past knowledge in the art of hand-to-hand combat which he hadn't practiced for years. Fighting against raiding survivors and hungry animals had been one thing, but other survivors with actual expertice? No, compared to them, Nigel was rusty. So when he followed Thalia's lead into the spot and began the fight, he knew he'd have to be on the defence.

"You good?" Thalia asked of Nigel, raising her hands and adopting an almost textbook boxing stance.

"As ready as I can be. Arte et marte."

"Ahll right, let's do this."

As the fight commenced, Thalia wasted no time lunging forward. She was not tentative, nor cautious, persay, but it looked like she might have been at first. She threw a series of jabs intended to gauge responses, reaction time, overall technique in her opponent, but nothing landed accurately enough to be anything more than a warmup exercise. The first few punches from Thalia came with surprising speed, her lunging attacks almost catching Nigel off-guard. Good thing he was trained in defensive fighting, using his shield and sword to make the fight his own. He threw up his arms in a defensive pose, catching Thalia's blows. A hard hitter, but nothing he couldn't handle at the moment. Thalia half-stepped back, fearing a counter incoming, and smiled just a little from behind her fists like a mischievous child.

Nigel noted Thalia's step back, and went onto the pursute. He stepped forward with a couple of blows aimed at arms, intending to force her defensive stance to the side like a shield. His defensive posture made him too slow for those jabs however, like an Iberian skirmisher. Once again taking up a defensive position, Nigel beckoned Thalia to try once again. To his surprise, this was getting fun.

"So that's what you look like on the offensive." remarked Thalia, smirking. "Yeah, let's try that again."

"You know what they say; The best defence..."

Nigel's defensive approach had payed off, gaining the initative after his last jab at Thalia as he as in position to strike her again. His left hand swung with force at her defensive posture, pushing her arms away enough for his right hand to get a good punch at Thalia's ribcage.

"...is a good offense." Nigel quiped back, grinning. As long as fortune favoured him, this was going well.

"Nnn..." grunted Thalia, acknowledging the hit and involuntarily slipping into a more serious frame of mind. She dropped one hand to bring her elbow more in alignment with the opening that Nigel had opened around her ribs. It was all fun and games until a hit actually got through, and she had to hand it to her sparring partner, she was scored upon fairly. It reminded her of her own shortcomings as compared to the previous year, and galvanized her will to return the hit with a predatory instinct. A snarl on her face, Thalia pressed her attack. She moved inward, aiming to get inside of his reach where she could really put pressure on him. A flurry of short, quick blows exploded from her, designed to push him back and exploit openings where they formed. Nothing solid. Either this man had training that he hadn't spoken about, or he had the Devil's own luck. Still, she did not relent.

To be continued...

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Quarantine (W) Skills: N/A

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"Thanks, Guy," responded Ash a little more quietly that he had been speaking earlier. Thoughts always seemed to bubble up to the surface at inconvenient times. More often than not, they weren't warm and happy ones. Ash was no stranger to these. Like everyone else who was still alive, hardship was a part of life. Talk of Alicia and Caesar got him thinking, if only in a fleeting manner, of things which once were in a place that didn't exist anymore. Pulling himself back to the present, Ash blinked twice and looked across the table as his friend and fellow Hillfolk Virginian looking back at him with a goofy smile still across his face. Live in the now. It was pretty much all that they had.

As Guy brought up the colorful man known here as "Shakespeare", Ash had to give him a nod. "Yeah. Surprised me, too. Then I saw him on sentry duty for the memorial. He's one of them alright. Picks and chooses when people see it. Makes me wonder how many more of them are out there, though." Alicia hand mentioned that her mother might still be out there somewhere and that her last known location was in Texas. It was an interesting thought. Ash turned his attention back down to the cards in his hands. Again he gave a look of pessimism and fished out a couple of cards from his hand. He looked like he might go back for a third one, as a man who might be weighing the probability of a full house against the greater odds of getting back a sackful of nada, but in the end just shook his head and slapped the original pull on the table. "Two, please."

He was really just buying time to continue their developing conversation until boredom on one of their parts or other business pulled them away. Reconnecting was important. To that point of interest, Guy had done him a favor in revealing a more recent development about himself that just begged for a followup. "That pretty girl you're talking about - anyone I know?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow. A betting man might be setting Guy up for distraction amid cardplay. Ash's motives were significantly more benign.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Gymnasium (K7) Skills: N/A

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Of course it was another clue. Why the hell not? It wasn't like this whole, dumbassed mystery was going to suddenly reveal its innermost secrets somewhere from between a couple of bench plates, in front of these people. It was a really auspicious moment as she caught the corner of the message sticking out from between two heavy, iron plates, begging so hard to be snatched up that it deserved to be smacked with a rolled up newspaper. Thalia's lips moved as she read the paper, her voice rising to enunciate the words inscribed upon it. "I shave every day, but my beard stays the same. What am I?"

Thalia thought about her brother, Joaquin. He was always so impeccably coiffed and scaped, he must shave everyday. And owing to his only recently outed sexual proclivities, if such a thing can be referred to as a proclivity in the truest use of the word, he must have utilized a friendly female at one time or another to keep his secret safe. A "beard", as the term went. Ergo, this leads back to Shakespeare. But other factors made that less likely an explanation.

Perhaps a good knife or razor was the answer. A tool that does the actual shaving, rather than the one being shaved? But then, how the hell does a razor have a beard? Maybe it was a word describing part of the item, of which she had no knowledge because her training lay elsewhere. There was a guy in town who would know, or at least who she hoped would know. Shears. That was his trade.

Then it occurred to her. The Barber. This was the answer. Of course it was, and Thalia was a moron for having taken those other flights of deductive fancy. Internally annoyed at herself, she vowed to go find the guy and see what role he played in this ever-growing joke at her expense which she couldn't escape due to her own sense of curiosity. But first...

"Ahl right, let's get this ass beating over with. I suddenly gaht someplace to be." Whether it was her ass getting beaten or another's was up for debate. Thalia had lost a lot of herself that she aimed to get back. This was part of that aim. And a little humility might do her some good.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway Location: Quarantine (W) Skills: N/A

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The idea that Ash was feeling better due to Thana, referred to as "that Sparrow girl", gave Ash a flash of irritation that bordered on anger. Thankfully, it passed as quickly as it flared, fast enough that he was fairly sure that it didn't color his features. Ash assured himself that Guy meant nothing by it, and in fact that was how she was known here. Sparrow. A nickname that came with her from a lot longer ago than the time he'd known her. Then again, the concept that Ash was suddenly and miraculously better because of an incredibly unlikely chance meeting with Thana and the fact that they had a connection that blossomed was presumptuous, if understandable. It was a turning point of sorts for Ash. Not so much the next day, that being the destruction of all that Ash had worked so hard for over the course of years and much spent in the way of blood, but the change had started. New perspective from the old, that sort of thing. A reason beyond just seeing the next day.

Yet the fact that such an innocuous comment set him on edge, even for a fraction of a second, caught Ash with reflective amusement. He was a little protective of Thana. Yes, Ash knew that she was fully capable of taking care of herself. She still brought out that instinct within him, apparently. It was interesting to note how he had changed in that way. Quietly, he wondered what else about him had changed since Newnan. Ash allowed a little smile to return to his face, along with a nod that telegraphed the answer to Guy's question. "Yes. It's serious," he said, a little more deadpan than intended. Bringing up Alicia and her father, Caesar, was not expected. He rolled with it, having come to an understanding of his feelings and, God willing, peace with it. There was no small amount of help from Tatiana with that point, even down to the furrow cut into Ash's face with her wedding ring the day they came into Quarantine. Trying to soften his voice with marginal results, Ash explained, "Alicia," enunciating her name with the inflection of her Mexican heritage, "was and always will be important to me. When she passed, it brought a lot of feelings up that I suppressed, about a lot of things (related and not) that I didn't understand for a long while." Ash leaned forward a little, keeping his expression neutral but open. "I still miss her sometimes. Input on tactics, neutralizing a target on the horizon, or any time I got too serious, I could count on her. If I had five soldiers like her I could probably take over the world, as it sits today. But you're right, it wasn't love." Clearing his throat, he continued, "What I have now is. And yeah, it makes all the difference."

It looked like he needed to get that out. Ash exhaled a big huff of air, seemingly dispelling whatever demons were clouding up his forebrain. More relaxed of demeanor and cheerier of voice, Ash remarked, "Sparrow Girl's the real deal, Guy. Had to be a damn Apocalypse to find her, though. Go figure." Noting that Riley gave a glance and a shrug to their table, Ash gave her a nod and nudged a chair with his foot, as to offer. Seeing her divert elsewhere, Ash gave a shrug of his own and returned to his cards. If she wanted to join later, he had no problem with it. They hadn't really spoken since coming to CMB; it would be nice to have a talk since settling into the community a little better.

Ash picked up what cards he was dealt and made a face of pessimistic consideration. "Hmm," he said curtly. Shaking it off, he looked to Guy and hoped to continue the conversation in another direction, "Speaking of the Gonzalez family, though; the new girl with the metal hand? That's old man Caesar's niece. Small world. So, how about you? Seeing anyone special?" Change narrative, drop mild bombshell, redirect. It was like being in AIT again, except he got to catch up with an old friend in the interim.

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Thalia Carmichael Location: Gymnasium (K7) Skills: N/A

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The gymnasium had the look of a hastily assembled spot, one birthed out of necessity and pragmatism rather than organic flowthrough. Thalia was just fine with that. Function over form was nothing to giggle at, especially in a world that lived and died by the hard and fast rules of basic survival - as with a finely crafted firearm, a chrome finish did absolutely nothing to help the hunk of iron push ammunition into the body of the person it was pointed at. Such was this place of physical betterment. In truth, Thalia was surprised as hell that she wasn't told that there was a gym in walking distance, given that she'd been working her ass off to maintain her physicality since arriving. A perfect example of this was, upon receiving her new prosthetic, Thalia immediately incorporated pushups into her workout routine. Partly this was to test out the range of flexibility and ease of use, but mostly it was to make her exercise regimen more complete. Pushing herself was part and parcel of being Thalia. now that there was gym at her disposal, well... she might be spending a lot more time here.

The suggestion that she should take up running instead of holding out for a treadmill was met with a note of derision, even if it wasn't expressed audibly. Thalia had been running as soon as she was free to do so, up one side of the settlement and back down the other, plus most points in between. This is what she did; it was who she was. Self reliance was always her thing. To her, a good part of that was keeping as fit as possible.

Thalia might have been the only person in the room that was thankful the air conditioning wasn't running. She still hadn't gotten used to it like most everyone else seemed to have. The added measure of being in clothes made heavier by precipitation would have made it even more uncomfortable for her. This was comparatively nice. Likewise was the news that there was a separate changing room for women. Being the only woman in their group, this meant that she'd have a little privacy while she changed into the gym clothes provided. Thalia wasn't really the shy type as it pertained to changing clothes. She'd seen people with even fewer shits to give than herself on the subject, but generally, her portion of thankfulness for having an changing room to herself was because of that last qualifier: herself. Solitude, not modesty, was the motivator.

On her way back, she gave a glance to Volt's back. That was a guy who had a story. Maybe one day when he felt like sharing, she might even know what that story was. Until then, Thalia didn't feel like it was any of her business, any more than her missing hand and forearm was his. She dismissed the thought and entered the room fully, intent on changing out and inspecting the weights, her primary reason for being here in the first place. It was a little tricky getting into and out of clothes with just the one fully functional hand. Luckily, she'd been getting a lot of practice in lately. Longer than she particularly liked, Thalia had changed and hung up her wet garments, then returned to the main area. If she managed to get into a scrapping session while she was there, great. But first, the Mestiza lady made her way over to the weights as initially intended and gave them a good look. Of course, it was going to be another clue/riddle/motivation for murder. But she had to see this through now. It was swiftly becoming personal.