<div style="text-align: center">《 Josh &amp; Jeb》<br/>
Location: Dryden<br/>
Present: Kennedy, Carla, Bec <a class="username" data-user-id="288" data-username="Flannel King" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/288/">Flannel King</a>​</div><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/josh-michal-van-wyngaarden-jpg.133057/" title="Josh-Michal Van Wyngaarden.JPG">
<img alt="Josh-Michal Van Wyngaarden.JPG" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/josh-michal-van-wyngaarden-jpg.133057/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='450' height='600' viewBox%3D'0 0 450 600'%2F%3E" style="width: 131px" title="Josh-Michal Van Wyngaarden.JPG" width="450"/>
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</div>Josh chuckled. It was that kind of low laugh that turned into uncontrollable giggles if left unchecked, but the thought of all men being sluts hit him that way. "I suppose," he said, "though I can't see you ever being an old hag. You just gotta find your tribe."<br/><br/>He watched Kennedy take in the walls and gate around central Dryden. His jovial face reflected the man's wonder, though it was at seeing the joy in Kennedy's eyes, much like the way a parent takes joy in their child's new discovery. Dryden was a place he would find his niche. Perhaps his personal tribe, someone who would settle down with him. That thought brought a slight knit to his brows that washed away with the onslaught of his questions.<br/><br/>"All that in time, my friend," Josh said, putting a hand on Kennedy's shoulder and guiding him to where Jeb was staring up at the gate, a broad hand shielding his eyes from the sun.<br/><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/jeb_james-hetfield-jpg.133058/" title="Jeb_James Hetfield.jpg">
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</div>Jeb's form left a long shadow across the asphalt lane. "I brought some chickens," he gestured towards the two approaching.<br/><br/>"Don't call us that," Josh teased. He squinted up at the wall and the figures silhouetted against the sky. Soon the three were all lined up, waiting for the familiar catch and squeak of the gate to open.<br/><br/>"You gonna let us in, or shoot us?" Jeb asked. A moment later the gate catch sounded, and then it was pulled open. Jeb gave the gatekeeper a curt nod as he strode fast, with the others having to hurry if they wanted to keep up. There was no reason to open the gate all the way; but in the dirt that had settled in the road it could be seen that some people still had running cars, or at least carriages with car-like tires on them, that had gone through those same gates recently.<br/><br/>Jeb was about a head taller than his brother; more because he was on that tall side then that his brother was abnormally short. But with his lanky frame and the way he carried himself, he'd been called a Treant a time or two. He found Carla right away and smiled, though it didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. For Rookie the reception was warmer; he tussled the dogs ears and called him a good boy and a spoiled brat in the same breath. "Glad to see you made it," he said to Carla. "The whole valley's in a shit storm."<br/><br/>He could see Bec from the corner of his eye. She was always the girl at the parties, hanging with Jeb. And then she was the WDFW officer who was there when their farm was raided. He never knew exactly how that fell through the cracks, but Jeb had a feeling that Bec was a part of it. Jeb had always been the awkward, gawky brother who brought beer and pot to the parties as an excuse to fit in. He and his buds were garden-variety potheads. Hell, two of them wound up in jail, one died in Afghanistan, and the other wound up shot to death over some threesome misunderstanding. He thought he might have been the only one still standing after all these years.<br/><br/>Straightening up from where he had been giving Rookie belly rubs, he wiped his hands on his jacket and gave Bec a nod. "How's it hanging?" he asked. Then immediately regretted it. She wasn't a<i>dude.</i>He averted his eyes and focused them on Carla.<br/><br/>"Mile's is vouching for this one," he said to the small group gathered there.<br/><br/>Josh chimed in. "Yeah, he's good," he cast a glance at Kennedy. "Gonna hunt with us and join the Network."