Toby's quarters were designed for the commander of the fortress and a couple of his aides. The accomodates are more roomy than the cabins meant for the rest of the Fort, and Toby has used the space to store certain valuable goods as well as maps, binoculars, useful items locked in his desk, etc.

There is a small dining room, an adjacently attached smaller building for his aides to live in, his own bedroom, his own office. Everything is decked with old Civil war era furniture.
You can tell who is in favor and who has fallen out of favor with Toby by who is allowed to sleep in the adjacent aides' cabin attached to his own.

Cookie dressed to impress; namely, the warpaint, her hair spiked, the ever-present, much-stained bat, her Glock tucked into her waistband, her boots and jacket shined, fingernails buffed.  She'd gotten a few minutes sleep tucked in there and had observed the watchfulness of the Fort towards the Caravaneers, and thankfully nobody had started any kind of trouble - yet.  Appointing herself Spokeswoman, if not War Leader, she sashayed to the office and gave the door a double-rap knock.  Figured he'd make her wait even though she knew he was already waiting for her, but that was the way power was conserved.  With a bright Give-Me-Big-Tips smile on her face, the Jersey Girl cooled her heels and waited.  The weapons would get a careful placement on an interior table, if Toby insisted.

-from > Fort Exterior

Toby didn't have to wait long before her heard a rapping at his chamber door. He had cleared any items of significance from sight by the time Cookie came calling. Things like his family photos, his journal, personal stuff. He'd left out his maps and old radio on his desk. The maps were rolled up, the radio was sufficiently operable. A pair of heavy binoculars hung from a peg in the wall. Everything looked altogether old-fashioned but for some accoutrements that Toby had added over time to make it his own.

His booted feet thumped on the old wooden floorboards as he neared the door. It hadn't been locked, and he pulled it open without hesitating to check who was outside. A few candles kept the room reasonably lit, it was all but dark outside now.

Nodding in greeting, he put on a neutral disposition and maintained solid eye contact, noting that Cookie had cleaned up after initially arriving. "Welcome. Have a seat, if you want." After closing the door behind her, leaving it unlocked, he gestured around the room. He didn't ask her to remove her weapons, he didn't want to seem like he was in any way intimidated by her presence. For Toby's part he wore a visible holster, gun buckled into place.

"So lets get down to it." Toby began as he sat behind his desk, pouring two cups of water from a silver jug. "Before we get into details about this place and how we do things, I want to give you the opportunity to explain where your group is from and why you came this way." He pushed one cup of H2O in Cookie's direction if she cared to take it. Toby drank from his own first to show there was nothing untowards mixed in.

"I need to know right now whether I should expect anyone to be coming after you and your people." This Caravan group had appeared to have been in recent action when they arrived, and it wasn't only undead gunk they were covered in..

Cookie leaned the bat against the wall and seated herself in a chair, flipping one slim denim-covered leg over the other with practiced ease.   Candlelight glittered on the gold "Cookie" necklace above a hot pink tank top - she shucked the black leather jacket because it never hurts to show off the wares.

 "Thank you," she said of the water, accepting the cup. The Jersey accent was obvious, but she was cleaning up her diction as best she could.  "My name is Cookie.  I am appointing myself Spokeswoman, since some of our members need some social skill training and I want understanding before any drama occurs.  The Caravan formed from a straggling group heading south as basic protection from the undead and Raiders.  I joined up after my group was overrun a few months ago - only one survivor besides me, and he's one of our injured now, from an attack recently made on us by a group of human survivors in the city.  We came this way after I led the raid into the city to rescue as many of our people who had not been used as zombie-vaccine test subjects by these city individuals." She smiled still, but the smile was brittle and it did not reach her bright hazel eyes.   "We heard about this place from a man travelling to find his family, and since we need help finding and securing a place of our own, I considered it exigent to come here and ask for assistance, advice, whatever you can give.  We thought we had a chance at the last place, and then we were raided by humans intent on using my people as lab rats.  I feel it fair to mention that their primary contact who betrayed our moves to our attackers is also within this compound, but since she is a human being, I have not taken action yet.  But she should be watched."

She paused and sipped the water.  "In the course of breaching their defences, we noticed a large number of undead entering the compound - it's overrun now, from what I could see before we left.  I'll need to check with our chopper pilot for more information, but retaliation is not likely at this time.  And, most of all,  I would like to thank you for your generosity in permitting us to shelter here.  I hope you can forgive our less mannerly members for any transgressions of social mores.  Our ultimate goal is to find a place of our own, secure it, and become self-sufficient." 

Toby's eyes caught the gleam of the candle's flame in Cookie's necklace. The name seemed to fit her but he briefly contemplated if that was really her name. His eyes quickly did a once-over of her body, taking silent note of the confidence her posture held. He'd have to be careful, the woman's presence was formidable. No doubt men before him had underestimated what she was capable of. Toby understood long ago that whatever he was willing to do to protect his people, other leaders were willing to do the same.

Despite his placid countenance, he appreciated that she drank from the cup. It was almost like a peace-pipe to the Fort Leader. They all drank from the same water. He couldn't return the grim smile that Cookie offered, but the fatigued rings under Toby's eyes related to the sentiment. The news of the hostile researchers in the city was news to him, but he wasn't surprised. "We've observed chopper flights over our territory towards the city. I sent people to investigate but no one came back." He replied thoughtfully, connecting the dots of what he'd already known with what Cookie had told him. Toby remained as silent as he could, more keen to absorb information than divulge it until the Caravan spokeswoman had made her case.

"I appreciate your being forthright with what's happened, and you're welcome for the help." The tested and tried Fort leader tried to be careful with everything he said, and took a sip of his cup as he formulated his words. He had to be careful with new people, for a myriad of reasons.

"From what you're saying it sounds like we both want the same thing. We want to protect our people. Here in this Fort, we've done it by fortifying our defenses and treating other groups as well allowable. Here we have moved beyond scavenging to trading with nearby groups. There's an Native Reserve out there, a farming colony, we trade with them and any other people who come through the area looking for shelter or whatever else we have that we're willing to trade." He paused as he tried to pick the right wording next, not wanting to push the point of his talk with her to soon until they'd built up some more rapport, but it needed to be addressed.

"We can help you with whatever you want to achieve. If you want to move on, we'll supply you with ammo, food, vehicles, and people if they want to leave and you want extra hands. If you decide you want to stay at some point, well, we can talk about it then, when you're ready to." Toby offered, draining the rest of his drink. He wasn't normally this verbose with anyone, but the Caravan didn't seem to know about the Fort but for a choice encounter with a former trader who had encountered the place. The dark skinned man wouldn't ask about Cookie's referral, it could have been any of many who had traversed to and from the Fort.

"Here is my problem.. Our trade has been disrupted, our Fort has been attacked..Repeatedly, over the last several weeks. People have gone missing. You are the first non-hostile group we've encountered since another group moved into the forest around the Fort." He moved his cup to the side of the desk and clasped his hands together calmly upon the wood. "I need your group's help to deal with these hostiles so that my people can be safe, and so that we can resume trade with our partners in which case we can supply your group with whatever you need for whereever you want to go. If you want to stay, then you'll still benefit from the effort. You don't have to agree to this, you don't, but we can't afford to supply your people if we don't clear the area of these bandits." It was alot to lay on the shoulders of the woman across from him, but he had a feeling she was used to carrying such weight for her people already. He didn't try to influence her through sympathy or threat, for he only wanted effective, motivated people to agree to such messy and dangerous work.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:40, Sun 23 Feb 2014.

Cookie nodded once.  A smart man; but he seemed honest.  She'd laid it on the line too -after usually using the bleached-blonde locks and makeup with the trashy clothes as a camoflage for brains and low cunning, a formidable Jersian mix.  "I considered keeping the Caravan mobile, but it's getting tougher to supply the vehicles and keep ammo in stock - the undead Horde is always moving.  We need some time to rest up and get ready to move on, so until then, you will have our fighters available to you and our people will assist you.  And we'll need information on agriculture, local waterways, places that we can try to settle in and become more than wanderers.....But back to your current problem."

  "It could be that you have human Raiders snatching your people, or it could have been the organisation that grabbed my people, or it could be both or neither, another entity, or it could be the Horde.  There was a strong sniff of military about this compound we raided - uniforms, chain of command, too.  Might explain the choppers as well."   A chain of command that she happily disrupted for her own benefit.   But now it was time to pay the piper for the dance.  She sipped the water again.

"So set up your next trade route; give me a map and at least one of your people as a guide, and we'll try to draw out your attackers.  And be warned that we had a spy in our group - called herself Karen.  You may have spies at the Fort, calling out your moves to the enemy.  So let the deal be just between us, that we'll be joining in on the trade mission at the very last minute."  She stood, held out her right hand to shake, to seal the deal.  The Caravaneers would have to agree - there was payment to be rendered for their shelter.  And she wanted a word with Dom about the chopper.

Toby listened quietly, nodding to confirm he was hearing her correctly, silently eager to absorb as much information as he could. It sounded like they were going to be able to work together, but that was only so long as they could keep their respective groups in order.

"Alright. I can send a couple of my people with you on a dry run so you can get a sense of things. Just have to use diligence. I know YOU will, but keep it in mind for your people if they ever step outside the walls. These people out there, they're organized, but we don't know enough about them." He didn't want to be melodramatic, but the danger from the people attacking them couldn't be understated. Reaching out he shook her hand, sealing the deal, for better or worse.

"We'll talk more tomorrow and later on after I set things in motion. Just try and sort your people out in the meantime. If you have any trouble with my people feel free to speak to me about it, and I'll do the same for you. If anyone causes trouble I find a night or two in the stockade does some good, depending on the trouble."

After they finished he stood up to see his visitor out. They'd have more time to talk later, for now they had a tentative understanding.

"Thanks, Cookie."

"It would be helpful if we could communicate our findings on the road," Cookie said.  "But I don't much have access to radio equipment.  I'll go have a word with the lads.  You're welcome, Toby.  Thank you for being our host." she flashed a dazzling smile and rose up from her chair, sashaying out of the door.  Once outside, her eyes narrowed, adjusting to the dark.  She paused and listened, to the sounds of humans settling, to the sounds of what might be undead shambling around outside.

Plenty to do.  First she had to see about the chopper and find out what Dominic knew. The smile thinned out and she went on her way, striding with determination that usually spelled trouble for someone else.

< Time Change >

Karen walked into Toby's office. She wore a hoodie and her duty belt. Her hair was tied back. Christopher's M1 Garand was slung in its usual place on her shoulder. The woman walked into the office, leaving the door open and letting in the warm morning sunlight and the cool morning air. She stood before the man, body language displaying a level of respect, but not intimidation. Karen skipped the "good mornings" and got right to the point. "I want the wall." Her voice communicated that she was not asking. "You've got men up there carrying pointy sticks and letting in loners. I don't know if that's how you like to run your ship, but with all due respect sir, that's not a great plan." Karen approached the desk and stood in front of it. "I'll get your crew in shape. I'll arm them. I'll train them. We'll make Fort Dixie's walls safe." Karen reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small object. The sunlight caught it and the surface reflected small beams of light around the room. "Here's my resume. Think about it, get back to me." She tossed the small item on the desk. The silver badge clunked as it contacted the wood surface and the SWAT logo gleamed in the sunlight.

Toby was working at his old Civil War desk, facing the open doorway when Karen walked in. Just from the sound of footsteps upon the ground he was certain the person outside wasn't one of his own. He'd been working on some stuff, but had left his office door open as a usual courtesy to the citizens that he was available for discussion.

Looking up from his maps and neatly piled documents he regarded his visitor calmly. Hearing her out, he noted her assertiveness, his eyes drawn to the silver badge on his desk. Considering his words, he picked up the symbol of authority and ability on his tabletop.  "Karen, right?" He spoke, running his thumb over the smoothly grooved metal briefly before rising to stand so they were more eye level, affording her the respect she had shown him.

"We have an arrangement between our groups to destabilize or destroy a mutual threat in the woods near this Fort. If things go well we can talk about your overseeing the Wall, but until that discussion I'd prefer your help in other ways than a leadership position. I do not doubt your skill, that's why I let you in. Anyone who comes into the Fort is let in for a reason but closely monitored nonetheless." The Hispanic man held out Karen's badge to return it to her, speaking in a measured way.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Wed 19 Mar 2014.

Karen pocketed her badge, nodded her head in acknowledgement, and moved to the door. There, she paused. "I understand your hesitation. But you have an arrangement with Cookie and her group. You should know, I don't belong to Cookie's group. I am useful to this fort outside that woman's purview." Karen stepped out the door with a "you have a nice day."

<To Exterior>

-from Fort Exterior

Toby led the way up the dozen or so steps to his commander's cabin, which overlooked the rest of the Fort but for the battlements and the watch tower resting in the very center of the Fort, picnic table gathered around its base in the courtyard.

"Leave the door open, take a seat. Oh and I'll need you to drop your weapons on the table by the wall." His words were casual yet firm. Alex was a lone wolf, unlike the Caravan that had arrived three days prior. He'd let them keep their weapons as a broker of trust, but Alex was a different matter. Toby had to exercise a little caution.

Remaining standing Toby leaned back against the front of his big old civil war desk, waiting for Alex to respond or comply before taking a seat in front of Toby.

"Before we look at any maps and get into details, tell me your story. You say you're a trader, but you sound more like a mercenary. And hired guns aren't prone to long term commitments. Not that we can't do business.." His posture was calm, and his hands held onto the desk edge he was leaning back against. His pistol hung from under his arm in a holster, the buckle secured.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:26, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

Without pause, Alex places all of his weapons on the table by the door.

"1st things 1st, I want to apologize, Sheriff Proctor had said he was the Director of Security, I had thought whatever we mentioned was confidential. Are all your fort members prone to lying? One thing that is paramount to survival...the cold hard truth. Wouldn't you agree?"

OOC: This is not godmoding if you don't stop me...let me know...and we can backtrack.

With a sigh, Alex starts examining the contents of Toby's office, the desk, the furniture, especially any books... "I am a trader, both in information and skills. However, my skills tend to be mercenary in nature. Before the Z-event, killing was my job and I was good at it. Now, sadly and unfortunately, my specific skill set is in high demand...so, I work."

After doing a NON-threatening circle around the office, Alex pulls up a chair..."But, I'm tired, really, really tired...I am looking for peace, and I'd like to help you achieve it."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:06, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

The Fort Leader silently acknowledged the gesture of good faith embodied in Alex giving up any visible weapons. Toby was still figuring an opinion on the newcomer, knowing looks could be deceiving, but that the truth was often quite simple.

"I'm not discussing grand strategies with a stranger. You are welcome to stay and fight for us but if you do you follow our rules, you prove yourself, and then we can talk about strategy and make plans together." He'd been trying to hear Alex out but the man's level of fatigue caused the leader to speculate on the drifter's state of mind. He wasn't even going to touch the barb Alex lobbed at him concerning the integrity of his population.

"You are clearly exhausted, and I'd advise you to stay and get some rest. If you stay, your weapons will be deposited in our armory until there is need of them or until I trust you a bit more." Toby explained, his voice even, trying to be fair but demonstrate due diligence. "In any case its never good to have serious discussion when tired. We should talk later. You can stay in the Caravan Cabins for now." Toby's disposition was that of limited patience, but he was trying. "If there's anything else I need to know about my trade partners or hostiles in the area tell me now."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

"Yes, of course...perhaps I need a moment to think." leans back in the chair, looks at the ceiling and closes his eyes...just for a moment, then a few seconds, a minute...and with an abrupt snap, he's awake, at the same time reaching for a holster, which is now empty.

"Ahhh, sorry, must have dozed off." he gets up unsteadily and walks towards the door, leaving his weapons on the table..."Take care of those for me, thanks."

As he begins down the stairs, he turns back, "Toby, I'm not tired...my soul is tired." He goes down the stairs, walks over to his bike, pulls out an old worn-out blanket/tarp and curls up next to his engine enjoying it's small comfort of warmth, then he is asleep.


To Fort Dixie - (Exterior Scenes)>>>>
This message was last edited by the player at 21:03, Mon 31 Mar 2014.

Toby was still unsure about the newcomer, but without his weapons he wouldn't be as much of a wild card. It was likely true that after getting some shut eye Alex would be a bit calmer in mind. Outside the walls of the Fort time easily slipped away, and he privately wondered how long Alex had been solo without any company before meeting Colton Black-Rabbit.

"They'll be in the armory. Thank you. When you've rested up we'll speak again." He replied, walking Alex to the doorway, ready to see the man off before Alex's last comment.

It gave Toby a moment of thought, leaning in his cabin's door frame while watching Alex head down the steps to the main area of the compound where many of the other inhabitants still socialized.

"Interesting morning you've had." Anne-Marie walked out from the next room where she'd been sitting and into Toby's office. She came to a stop next to his desk and watched him standing in the doorway. "First that blonde woman with the SWAT badge, now this biker dude. What is everyone's problem with our security, bite checks aren't enough? Do we have to do the blood test from The Thing?"

She didn't mind that Toby didn't respond to her. He was always so serious, she tried to take things in stride. She knew Toby had a lot on his mind, so she moved on to business. "We're running short on our medical supplies, especially now after treating this new group. Also, we need to gather the required supplies to trade with the Amish. By the sounds of things Colton won't be getting through to us any time soon, so that buys us time. But of course without him, we don't have any food coming in...

What are you thinking?"

Toby listened closely, even if he was still looking out over the Fort. He appreciated Anne-Marie's council, finding her slightly sassy demeanor refreshing as well. Though his back was turned, he released a small grin as AM mentioned The Thing. The leader tried to be casual and friendly with the Fort, and by and large he was able to, but everyone was different in private than in public.

"We need our new friends to be strong and loyal. I think I can work with Cookie. I think wecan work with her." He turned inside, facing AM, "We're going on raid. Two groups, Caravan and Fort mixed together. Cookie leads one, myself the other." Toby casually moving to his desk, standing in front of it and surveying a map of the area. "I'm leaving you in command while I'm away.." Glancing up to Anne-Marie from the desk, a small smile lingering on his features from her earlier sarcasm, and because he wanted to reassure he had things well in hand.

"I need to speak with Cookie. I spotted her earlier down at the Stockade with Sam. I don't think they like each other, but I think they know each other."

She held Toby's gaze for a moment and smiled back, then stared down at her shoes. "I-uh-thank you, Toby. I won't let you down." Anne Marie said as she looked back up at Toby. She didn't want to tell him that she had never been in charge of anything before. She really didn't want to let him down.
Anne Marie was one of the first outsiders to arrive at Fort Dixie. It was Toby who convinced Francis, the first leader of Fort Dixie, to let her stay. She would make sure everything was alright while he was away.

"Hmm." Anne Marie laughed a little at Toby's comment about Sam and Cookie, and smiled at him again. "Yes, I'll go see what's up and bring Cookie back. Do you want Sam in on this one too?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:16, Sun 06 Apr 2014.

"You shouldn't thank me, its a hapless position..But you'll do just fine." Turning away from Anne-Marie the Fort Leader turned his attention to his open doorway, hearing some spike in noise down in the courtyard. Looking down at the mess area he didn't immediately do anything, he had people down there to handle things for now.

"Just Cookie for now." He answered her question, not elaborating on his reasoning, but trusting her to carry things out to the letter as AM usually did.

"Alright" she said as she walked to the door. Anne Marie could see Toby's attention had turned elsewhere, to the courtyard. "I'll be back with Cookie right away..."


To Stockade/Prison ==>

=> From Exterior

Anne Marie threw open the door of the cabin where Toby's office was. "Toby! Cookie is , um, you should see..."

"Got it." Toby was curt and understood entirely. He'd been watching events and it was time to set some things straight.

-to Fort Exterior

--> From Stockade

"There she goes." Anne Marie watched out the office window as Karen walked from the jail cell to the door of the fort. "What a bitch." If she ran, Gabe had orders to shoot her. She didn't run though, so that was good. Anne Marie thought Karen was a very peculiar woman. She had the strangest sense, after their little talk, that it was inevitable that they became close friends or mortal enemies. Anne Marie wasn't sure which.

The dead sound of the afternoon was cut by the unmistakable tremble of a truck. Anne Marie watched the reaction of the people in the courtyard, and up on the wall. That confirmed it, someone was coming. "Oh great, more fucking strangers."

To Exterior-->   

-from Fort Exterior

Luke led the trio of strangers up to the hillbound steps to the Commanders Cabin, where a hundred and fifty odd years ago a crusty white crab of a leader sat and plotted. Now it belonged to a Latino who used to be a plumber, or something.. This day is belonged to Anne-Marie, however, the number two of what Fortress Dixie. Refuge for them all for many months, since the Z-bomb went off and the creepers came out.

"Alright fellas, be cool." His hipster mustache twitched as he closed the door and waited or Anne-Marie to begin. She'd tell him to buzz off if she wanted privacy, she knew how to handle herself as she'd displayed over the last few months.

Standing in front of an oval Robert E. Lee portrait in the corner of the office, Anne Marie turned and welcomed the three newcomers. "Come in, come in." There were chairs arranged for each to sit on. She walked around the Civil War era desk and sat in the chair behind it.

"So I suppose if you're here you passed the bite checks." Anne Marie said flashing a witty smile, her attempt at humor. She glanced at Luke for confirmation. You can never be too careful, she thought.

"There are some things we need to talk about. Questions I want to ask you. Let's start with something easy."

"What are your names?"

Be cool, what did this guy expect them to do? Go through the trouble of brining their man back just to fight their way out? Hank was too tired to do anything besides plop in a chair, the coolness refreshing against his bare back. He had wrapped his shirt back around Tom's neck after the check. If these people were going to try anything there wasn't really anything he could do at this point. Rubbing his forehead he sighed, realizing how simple things were when all they had to worry about were the zombies.

I'm Hank, this is Tom He said simply, patting his brother on the knee. He'd let the other guy do his own introductions.

The older man stood neutrally with his arms at his sides, fingers closed slightly, not aggressive but perhaps a bit standoffish. He'd wanted the shelter of the Fort, but he had no idea what would become of them. Playing nice wasn't his strong suit, though he could at least try and watch his tongue, and play along rather than spend the night out with the undead. Still, he was almost regretting his decision to help the boys and the man he'd met on the road. He should have kept moving, but instead he had to involve himself, again.

My name aint any of your fuckin business. Is what the stranger thought, but didn't say. Instead he answered, last among them, in a gravelly, cautious tone. "Joe." His body language made it iffy as to whether he was being truthful, but who knew anyone's real name anymore. Few carried ID's anymore, those who did were usually pining for the past.

There was an urgent knock upon the old cabin door, one that demanded immediate attention. Without much of a moment of reflection the large stoic Caravan member Hector let himself inside. Luke had enough self preservation instinct to simply step aside, weapon lowered harmlessly as he read the body language of the man who had stepped inside. A look of apology over his lack of action was shot towards Anne-Marie, almost as if to say "Sorry! But hey, its just Hector." Luke was self absorbed but amiable with most, Hector being a surprise acquaintance in that he and Luke got along especially well. Luke did most of the talking of course.

"Gabe wants you on the wall." The typically terse Caravan fighter told AM. He was no messenger boy, but he was trying to do his part and make things work so Aishe and himself would be able to pull through even more. He and his friend had been taken in as hostages by the Caravan weeks ago, but had not caused any sufficient trouble to warrant suspicion. They had also proved themselves useful in the fight, and in other ways as well. Though Hector wasn't part of the inner circle of the Caravan, its much reduced population had brought him to the forefront as an excellent fighter, albeit one not well known.

As he awaited action, he shared a knowing look to Luke before glancing over the other arrivals. "Hello, I'm Hector."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:37, Thu 23 Oct 2014.

Hank, Tom and Joe. The first two were young and seemed harmless enough, but the old man was visibly on edge, after only being asked his name. That didn't strike Anne Marie as harmless.

"Alright, so my next question-" she said as the door opened and Hector walked in.

"He what? Oh." Anne Marie would have to get used to this. Obviously there was some new problem, and she had to deal with it. She was ok with that. Working for Southwest Airlines, she enjoyed managing the team of flight attendants, even in the most chaotic situations. Anne Marie thrived on chaos. She could get used to this.

There was the problem of the current guests in her office. Or rather Toby's office.
"Excuse me." She said rising from her chair. She walked over to Luke, and spoke to him in a hushed tone. "Take them and show them around. Find out what happened to Brady. Don't let me down."

She left Luke with the three newcomers and spoke with Hector as they walked to the wall. "OK, what's going on Hector?"

To Exterior->
This message was last edited by the player at 05:06, Thu 23 Oct 2014.

Hector and Luke would exchange another seemingly too-familiar look just before Hector departed with Anne-Marie, effectively casting a shadow over the woman, ready to assist, ever particular with his wording. Clearly he'd been in tense situations before, and could blend into a leadership or support role with ease.

-to Exterior

Luke was not entirely pleased to be put on interrogator duties. He wanted to please AM but he wasn't like Sam or Cookie, he wasn't going to get answers a rough way, it just wasn't his style. The newbies seemed harmless enough except for the old guy, but he hadn't given much trouble yet. Still, he kept one hand on his rifle just in case gandalf decided to try anything crazy. That said, the two younger guys seemed legit, brothers and such. They looked like they just needed a place.

"Sorry about all the formality, we're just trying to be careful. Alot of trouble lately with all the migrants coming down south, I'm sure you've seen more biters out there too." He mentioned, managing what he hoped was a small, reassuring smile. "Uh, Hank, and Tom, right? And uh, Joe, you all hungry? We have a little food, and if you feel anything like I did when I first came here, you probably want some nice cold water, eh?" If anything he wanted to allay the youngest one's possible fears. Clearly something had happened out in the wilds with Brady.

Hank didn't look up as the woman was summoned, focusing on what felt like was going be a mother of a headache. Too much, too fucking much for one day. I'll pass on the food, but water would be divine. He sighed, not wanting to owe these people more then necessary. Besides, depending on how bad this headache turned out he didn't want to waste whatever they could spare. Looking up he turned to face Luke. Your ah, man, Brady, was actually the second living person me and Tom have seen in...longer then I care to remember.

Tom fidgeted as he sat, glancing around as if he was expecting something at any moment. Video games and surviving this long taught you rooms with one door were usually the safest place to be, or a death trap depending on the circumstances. He let Hank do the talking, while he tried not to scratch at the wound on his neck. Just knowing it was there made him want to pick at it, just like any other cut or scrape he'd ever gotten. Tom knew he was lucky a cut, and the nightmare he was sure would come, were the worst things he'd taken away from the incident. Glancing over to Joe he made a mental note to thank him. At the mention of food and water he looked to Hank before turning to Luke. Um, waters fine. Though the slight growl from his stomach said otherwise.

"Suit yourselves. Water is one of the few things we have alot of, actually. Have an old well in the middle of the Fortress. The food part is whats been ailing us with winter coming." He replied, amiable as usual, one hand idly fiddling with the pointing tip of one side of his elaborate hipster mustache.

"That's pretty screwy, dude. I've been here for two months, now I can't imagine being out on my own.." The young Fort-ian let the thought hang, suddenly a bit more sympathetic to the new folks as he remembered his own circumstances before coming to the Fort. He'd barely made it out on his own, being in a small group before finding Dixie.

"Follow me." He waved the three of them after him, opening the door and letting himself out of the cabin, expecting them to follow. Water was awesome after all.

-to Fort Dixie Exterior

Ya, well...sometimes it's easier when all you have to worry about is being eaten by the dead. Hank shrugged, stretching as he stood. Of course finding a safe, at least semi-permanent group had been always been at the back of his mind, but you could never be sure just what the living were thinking. Come on. he directed to Tom, gently guiding him after Luke.

When can we get our bags back? He asked, stepping outside. Ignoring the headache the best he could he took a better look at his surroundings.

---->To exterior

It was lucky that Luke didn't try to engage Joe in too much conversation, for it was becoming increasingly clear that the old guy was in a defensive mood. Though he did nothing to give Luke cause to worry for safety, the older man was conspicuous by his silence. He'd go along with things for the time being, he told himself, feeling some obligation to the younger folks he'd assisted against drifters. While he was appreciative of the shelter the Fort provided he was still evaluating whether that benefit would come at the cost of his life. Normally suited to a life of independence, it was an effort to let himself be guided along, with his cherished bow taken from him, even for a short time.

"Yea, I want my stuff back. I aint no harm to anyone here." He added to Hank's own request, keeping his tone level and civil as he could manage so as to not get them into any trouble.


-to Exterior