(2015-06-28) A New Hope
A New Hope
Summary: Holden arrives at Camp Hope, where he's met by Quinton.
Date: June 28, 2015
Related: None

It's not quite dusk, but it's late in the afternoon enough that folks with it was. The guards are doing their guard duty, but Quinton is sitting on the ground with a note book against his propped up knees while he leans against tree outside the gates. he's within eyesight of the guards, so they're not complaining or worrying…well, not anymore than they usual do about the odd man. His pale green eyes flick up every once in a while to glance down the dirt road, and around himself before going back to whatever it is he's working on in his book. He's got a small scratch on his cheek and is dressed in worn jeans and a slightly dirty t-shirt.

A cloud of dust slowly rises in the distance and the growing moan of a dirt bike begins to fill the air. The figure of what looks to be a boy on an old dirt bike comes into view. The guy on the bike sees the gates, the guards and Quentin, and the bike slows to a stop about a football field's length away. He sits there, the bike idling, staring with uncertainty at Quenton and the guards for nearly a full minute. Finally, he rides slowly closer, coming to a stop about twenty feet from Quentin.

The guards immediately are on edge, watching the approaching figure and even calling out to the seated man, Quinton, by what they say, to get back in the gates. The man doesn't move, but at least he does look up from hi spiral not book. He doesn't seem very intimidated by the idea of someone new…or but the guards hollering at him. Instead he studying the boy on the bike, not saying anything.

Holden sits on the bike as it idles, his brow furrowing a bit as the wind blows his hair. He tilts his head a little at Quinton, then looks at the guards. Once more, his gaze returns to the other young man and he nods his chin his direction. "Hey."

Quinton's head tilts bak and he echoes the boys sentiment back, "Hey." The guards roll their eyes, annoyed and watch. While Quin's an odd one, he's their odd one. The book is finally closed and the man stretches his legs before starting to stand. Once up, he'll approach the bike, "Come far?' His words are a little off, almost like he's struggling for them.

Holden speaks loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the dirt bike. "Utah," he responds. He looks at the guards again, and asked Quinton, "You have guards?" He returns his gaze to the young man. "Is it safe here?"

Quinton answers with his own question, "You alone?" His eyes look past Holden like he might have some invisible posse. There's a nod, but that could eb to either of Holden's questions.

Holden sighs, and he nods. He's been through this kind of process before. "Yeah." He wipes his sleeve across his nose, sniffs, and then offers, "I'm Holden." He looks at the fencing, then back to Quinton and adds, "Hungry, too."

Quinton hasn't. he was pretty lucky to fall into Camp Hope right away. He'd have probably not lasted this long if he hadn't. He eyes the skinny kid and then sighed, turning towards the tree when his book was, on the other side is a beat up backpack he opens it and pulls something out before returning to stand next to Holden. the guards tense up, not liking how close Quin is putting himself, but Q himself doesn't seem to mind, "Quinton." And out come the hand with an energy bar that's past expiration. It's offered over to Holden. "You'll ….need to talk to….Sonny…and Bea."

Holden sniffs once more, then he swings his leg over and off the bike, still holding it up with his hand on the handlebar grip. He kicks the kickstand down, and as he does, he accidentally twists the grip. The engine revs loudly and the bike jumps forward. Holden is jerked with it, the bike toppling over onto the ground and dying, sending Holden rolling into the dirt. He grumbles, and just leaves the bike there as he pushes up to his feet and takes the bar. As he tears the package open, he shovels it into his mouth as if it's been a few days since he's ate.

Quinton jumps slightly as the bike and boy go tumbling, the guards level their guns but he holds up his free hand. If this is some sort of trap, it's either idiotic or genius. He lets his lunch for the next day disappear and stays silent just watching the guy, like he's trying to figure something out. "Warm food for dinner …if you stay."

Holden finishes the bar and he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve, nodding. He smirks a bit, "Thanks." He looks at the men with the guns and asks, "They don't have to shoot me. I promise." He shrugs a little, dropping the wrapper onto the ground. "I'm unarmed." He considers, "Well, I have a knife, but… My gun got wet." He swallows and then asks, "How do I meet this Sonny and um… Bea?"

Quinton frowns, bending over to pick up the wrapped nd shoving it into his pocket to throw out later. "They won't." Well, hopefully not. "wet?" he frowns, making a rollin motion with his hand, "You…have it?" Things like that can be fixed…or at least picked apart for spare parts. He nods his head, motioning towards the gate. His backpack is thrown over one shoulder as he walks, the notebook shoved inside. It seems to be filled with stuff. That's all the invite he gives.

Holden shakes his head, "No. I ditched it. It was heavy. And wet." He shrugs, "Sorry." He takes a moment to pick the bike up off the ground and then begins rolling it alongside him as he follows Quinton. "Been here long?" he asks. "Is it safe?"

Quinton waves his hands at th guards who trouble but open up the gate. There's some blinking at Q tries to recall how long, "3…..3 months." About that, anyway. He nods softly, "Safe as …anywhere." Holden and his bike are eyed but he nods again, "We're each others…shields."

Holden stops walking. "You use each other as shields?" His eyes widen a bit. "Maybe… I um… Should find somewhere else?"

Quinton blinks, tilting his head and shakes his head, "No…we…" He sighs, the words aren't coming out right, "We protect…" He's frustrated, but keeps walking, his hand moving up to adjust the strap of his backpack.

Holden lifts his brow a hair and he sighs. He mutters, "I got a bad feeling about this…" and then begins pushing the bike once more. "I had a cousin who was autistic," he says to Quinton, quite casually.

The corner of Quin's lips tug up at the quote but it quickly drops as the man completely stops and looks at Holden with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. There's no right exclamation that could possible fit the mortification he feels, so he simple asks, "Seriously?!?"

Holden pauses as well. "Um…" His brow furrow slowly in confusion, "Yeah…" He tilts his head a bit, "I um… I don't think he made it. I mean, I don't know. But yeah." His brow slowly lifts again, in innocent confusion.

Quinton's usually a rather passive guy, but there's a underlying tone that this isn't a topic he's going to stay unemotional about. "Most didn't…no one…I'm the last of my family…"He looks away towards one of the dirt roads. A muscle in his jaw tightens briefly before he looks back. "Wait…I'll go get them." One of the guards is trailing behind them, just keeping an eye till Sonny or Bea give the ok.

Holden sighs again, watching the other young man walk away. He takes a minute to put the kickstand down and lean the bike, and then he shoves his hands in his pocket. He looks at the guards again, smirking at one of them, "Hi," and then looks away nervously when the guard doesn't really respond. He then just waits.

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