(2015-08-19) Rainy Days
Rainy Days
Summary: Harmony goes to deliver food to Quinton, and finds he's already free of the First Aid building. A walk to the Pavillion ensues so he can eat. They're joined by Kayla.
Date: August 19, 2015
Related: None, really

It was a dark and stormy night… well, not really. The sun is still up, but it is stormy. The skies are dark, and there's a wind that always seems to come with thunderstorms. The rain is coming down and has been, making mud-puddles in the dirt roads many potholes.

There's no real point to covering up; not in this weather. Umbrellas are at a premium, and because it still summer, there's not a huge chance of catching chill. The only drawback, then, is looking very much like something the cat dragged in. Which is exactly what Harmony looks like, even if every other step is something of a dance. She's humming a tune, repeating words heard on television what seems like an eternity ago. "'I'm singing in the rain, just singin' in the rain…'" Skirts are flat and clinging to bare legs, her shawl wrapped about her shoulders is giving her a little modesty in the very wet top she's got on beneath, and her long hair is almost plastered to her head. With a burst of blooms wrapped in the tresses. In hand, she's got a 'covered dish' that she's trying to keep level enough, even with her dancing.

Quinton's leaning against the building, looking out and around the camp. It looks like he's maybe been there a little bit. he's got some shelter from the rain, but his t-shirt is plaster to his torso, showing off the bandage wrapped around him. Bruised ribs indeed. His hair is about as plastered to his head, maybe the cool rain is helping the pain in his head, or he's just needing to stand and think. Or…well, who knows? The sound of singing has his slowly turning though to watch Harmony as she approaches. His head tilst but he doesn't say anything, last time he saw her, he thinks she was mad at him/ It was all very fast, and very muddled.

If she even thought that Quinton could see her now, Harmony would stop. Why? Just… for no other reason than just… not do it. Time in the fields with the scene playing before her eyes over and over. The scream… no, the shriek.

"'I'm singin'… and dancin' in the rain…'"

Thoughts best left for another day. This rain helps her with the here and now, and as she gets closer to the building, rather than dancing and twirling around the puddles, Harmony simply leaps over the larger ones and wades barefooted through the shallower ones. Maybe one or two are stomped in before she continues on.

It's when she gets to the First Aid building itself that she catches the lurker, and she slows to a stop, her lips pressing together in a tight line. Green eyes look him over, and the gleam is still there. Ever hopeful. Approaching slowly now, she holds out her covered basket with a long arm once she stops. A careful distance.

"Brought it for you. I figured that you shouldn't miss dinner. Some rabbit's in there with gingered, glazed carrots." That mix brings a softly breathed chuckle before she continues. "With rice pudding for dessert."

Harmony's playing actually brings a soft smile to the poet's lips. Joy, any joy, is just…nice. The distance gets an eyebrow raise, "Yeah?" When he pushes off the building he does grimace but covers it up with a smile and a stiff step towards her, "I had …oatmeal earlier…" From his tone it wasn't the best. To be fair, he hadn't ate in a day, and his head was pounding then. Nothing was going eb good. "…rice pudding?" That's new! He smiles at the ironic paring of foods.

"Should you be doing that? Walking, I mean." Harmony watches the stiffness, and can easily see the now soaked bandages beneath a soaked shirt. It's hard for her to tear her eyes from that view, but she manages and clears her throat softly as she raises her gaze. She wrinkles her nose in distaste over oatmeal, adding, "Yeah, well… next time, I'll be sure they actually add the blueberries and cream." Closest to an apology about the food in camp that he'll get!

A smile begins to creep up, and Harmony nods. "Leftover rice means rice pudding. Didn't they ever teach you that in Elementary school? You never noticed that trend in lunch? Sheesh." But it is new!

Those gleaming green eyes look Quinton over once more, and her tones lower, "How're you feeling?" There's half a quirked smile and she adds, "No offense, but you look like you were hit by a bus."

Quinton nods, but he has no real authority on the matter. "Started to feel….trapped…" And being that they fell into a trap, it's understand able he'd not want to be there. He gives a half smirk and nods, "Thanks.." He shrugs, but it's slow and forced, "No…I didn't…good." Different food is always good. Her worlds though has him laughs, "Don't…tell..Tara that." A hand raises to wipe his face, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. He's starting to get scruff again. "When we fell, I twisted so she …fell on me…Landed on my …back.." and Piper then landed ontop of him. She may be little, but with the baby weight…she's heavy! His nose wrinkles, "Hit…head…"It's not wrapped up, so that's a good sign, at least. His speak pattern is off, but who knows if that's from the first issues or the bump.

"So much easier to breathe out here," is given wryly. Still, he's up and moving about. Harmony isn't a doctor, but she does have some real concerns about him. They're unspoken, and will remain so. Instead, she takes a deep breath and nods in the direction of campsites. "Probably should find a pavillion so I can watch you eat." She's learned!

The words, the stopping and starting could be a remnant of when he was sick or it could be concussion. He's bruised enough. "I could tell you'd hit it." The nausea was a dead give-away.

Harmony takes a step back, ready to head to the campsites and/or the covered pavillions. "How's Piper?" It's a guarded question.

It is easier to breath! He smiles at her before nodding and laugh quietly, "Watch me eat?" His smile fades though and he just nods, he knows he was bad yesterday. When she moves, he does as we, not minding the rain. He's soaked already, what does it matter getting more wet? "She's…ok. In pain."

"Yes, watch you eat. I want to be sure you're not feeding a dog under the table is all." Harmony says that so matter of factly that it's almost hard to determine if she's joking or for real. A good look at those eyes, though, the window to her soul, would tell anyone she's teasing. And the quirk to her lips, juuust breaking a smile again.

Now, the walk is easy. Harmony does resist the urge to splash in a puddle, but she does gracefully avoid them, even if she is barefoot. And soaked to the core. "We couldn't get any wetter. My mother used to tell me I wouldn't melt. Kind of made me glad I wasn't a Wicked Witch. But I'd rather the food stay kind of dry." Neither of them mind it, then. And it feels good. It washes the soul.

As they walk, Harmony keeps her hands forward now, in front of her, fingers entwined. The skirt sticks to her legs in places, giving her a little bit more of a shape, accentuated by the shawl around her shoulders. "It's the first 24 hours. That's when a person feels it the most. Shock is over by then and everything else sort of comes in." She shakes her head and looks beside her. "She really shouldn't be going on those runs anymore. If I had my way in a perfect world, you shouldn't either. Should be people who are supposed to be able to fight, and if it happens, to be able to kill without too many nightmares."

Quinton decides to just joke back with her, she's being friendly enough, maybe she's not mad anymore, "We got a…dog?" He's walking a touch slower than normal, and will actually run his hand though his hair as he goes. he's not been able to shower today, so it feel nice. "She's on a …2 mile leash. The boat houses…" well, some of them are close enough, if they cut through the woods, "I won't make that mistake with her again." He feels guilty enough, not gonna add to it. As Harmony continues, his eyes wander her form(how can they not?), but then he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow, "I can fight." the killing isn't mentioned.

"Nope, but knowing you, you might find one for just that occasion," she teases. Harmony turns eyes forward again as the pair walk the path. Getting closer to the pavillions, she checks her speed and slows down to more of a stroll. He's speaking better. Fewer pauses which she counts as a victory.

As they walk, Harmony shakes her head, but not enough to unstick her hair from her head. "You can fight, Quinton, I know that. But what about you if you have to pull the trigger on someone? You yourself had said there were children out there." She worries about his spirit. His soul. He's gentle… and kind. A poet. "I know I couldn't kill someone, and if I went out there, I'd put everyone else into danger. I can't even kill an animal."

Quinton actually wouldn't mind a dog, since all the kittens were claimed. He's pretty sure he can't screw up a relationship with a pet…right? The poet studies her, the way her hair clings to her, the light in her eyes. "You'd be…surprised what you can do….to save someone…" He nods though, understanding her not wanting to go out.

"And I would hate myself and them for putting me into a position where I had to do it." Would she pull the trigger and kill someone if they threatened someone she loved? Of course, the question is, does she actually love anyone? How about like someone enough to take another's life? Harmony is alone, very much like everyone else. Her plants, perhaps?

It's far deeper than she wants to go. Grey skies don't mean philosophy and melancholia. She skips forward a little and turns around, walking backwards, all the better to see her companion. "A dog." It all makes sense now. "You need a dog."

Again, Quin understands. He lets the topic drop, not wanting to upset her…or get her to yell at him. When she flips the topic, he not only allows, but chuckles softly. "No….yippy dogs." He doesn't want a purse dog!

Harmony is walking backwards; easy to do, actually, when in bare feet. She shakes her head rapidly again, studying him. "Nope. More like, a lab. A black lab. Something you could have in quiet moments and when you want to laugh. And big enough that you wouldn't step on him." The perfect pet for someone who thinks they're 'broken'. A therapy dog without the title. "Something that would eat what you eat." Yup! This isn't her trying to fix him. This is a young woman that is trying to make a life just a little easier to live.

Quinton doesn't connect the therapy aspect, so he just nods. "That would be nice…to have." His eyes glance behind her, "…careful…" he doesn't want her to trip, he doesn't think he'd be able to move fast enough to catch her.

Harmony is careful. She tries to be, anyway. Spinning around so she's facing front, she pauses in her step to wait for Quinton to catch up before she falls into step once more. "Kayla is neat." How's that for a change of topic again. "Do you have any other brothers or sisters? Goldfish? Cat? Dog? Crazy favorite uncle?" Everyone has a favorite crazy uncle!

Quinton has a typical brother response, "I guess." A aft sig as they step into the shelter, "No…just Kayla and I. …Small family." He then chuckles, "Had an…aloe plant in my apartment…" He's hand raises again to rub the back of his neck, his hair dripping.

"Did you name it?" The laugh in her voice sounds as if she's expecting a particular answer. "Did you at least talk to it?" Harmony never lived alone, never had her own apartment. Never had to. "Aloes are pretty good company. They grow even if you don't talk to them. When they get bigger, they're great for security. Put it right next to the door and they'll stab anyone who tries to get in."

When the pavillion is reached, Harmony pulls the soaked wrap off her shoulders for a moment, revealing the clingy sleeveless shirt. She sets it back into place, however. Her hair is next with a quick shake-out. It's messy but it'll do for the moment. "My mother counted the plants in my room once when I was at school. Violets. Orchids. For a project in biology, I made my own African Violet. It was blue and purple with frills."

Quinton laughs, "Yes…We called it Professor…I used to rehearse…"His voice fades off, thoughts of long past poetry readings to plants. Luckily the image of Harmony in a clingy shirt snaps him out of it, he blinks and then clears his throat. looking away. "that sounds…pretty.."

Harmony laughs, "Professor." She can easily see the practicing of verses to a plant on a planter. Easily. The pavillion has picnic tables, and she takes a couple of steps before she sits down, her back to the table itself. Looking up, brows rise. "Dinner."

There's a moment when she pauses before she looks down and smiles, the expression holding a little sadness. Just a touch. "It was. Couldn't bring it with me, though. It's probably dried up by now. And all my other plants." Lifting her gaze again, her lips set and those green eyes gleam. "It's time for you to tell me if my glazed carrots are any good."

Quinton sits down on one of the benches, grinning, "ok…I'm sure…it's….good.." as the food is uncovered, he'll look up at her, "You ate?"

There. This is exactly what Harmony likes to see. A smile. A ready laugh. A moment when all is right with the world.

"I did. I'm surprised I haven't gained weight, working in the kitchen with all the food. Spinach here, cream and fruit there. Tomatoes. Zucchini. Tomorrow, by the way, I'm making spaghetti squash in a tomato sauce. It's not really spaghetti, and it's not really actual spaghetti squash, but I think you might like it." Meatless, this one. "Or from being out in the fields, picking. A strawberry here, a raspberry there." She laughs, "I'm such a kid. I waited all my life to turn 21, and now that I am, I am just back to being a kid with dirty hands."

Quinton sneaks, Harmony's so little, he couldn't imagine. His eyes widen, "Spaghetti squash…it's good…" He laughs, "Being 21…it's not…any better…raspberries are….nice." Quinton will slowly start picking at the food, mostly just watching her as they talk. taking a small bite her and there between nods.

And another laugh. Things couldn't be better. Harmony is more than willing to fill in the moments of silence. She likes stories, and there are always new ones, even coming out of the kitchen. His eating makes her happy. It's kind of silly if she actually thinks about it, but at this very moment?


"When I turned 21, my parents threw me a party. Figured that if I was legal to drink that it'd be them that would allow it first so nothing could happen to me. I did… and I was so sick. There I was, leaning over the toilet, looking oh so miserable. My mother came in, cold compresses, full of 'Oh you poor baby'." Green eyes don't leave Quin as he eats, as she tells the story. "Just before she was going to bed, she asked me how I felt. I told her between heaves that I didn't feel well. She stood up, looked at me and said, 'Good. I hope you feel like shit.' and left." Harmony chuckles and shakes her head, "Never drank like that again." Nope, 21 simply isn't worth it!

Raspberries… that reminds her! "I'm glad you like raspberries." For the drink, she did make that smoothie…

Quinton groans, "Drinking with parents …" The story gets him to laugh again, around a mouth full of rabbit. "My dad…yeah. Lots of…beer" He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. "I do…What…what's your favorite?" Pale green eyes studio her as he eats, the poet seems honestly interested.

The pair are under a pavilion in the camping area, seated at a picnic table. The rain has changed from thunderstorms to something a little less remarkable. Drizzling, and it's past official 'dinner time' at the Dining Hall. From the looks of it, Harmony has brought some dinner to Quinton and is now 'sitting on him' (not literally) to be sure he eats. Rabbit. Ginger glazed carrots. Rice pudding for dessert and to wash it down, a raspberry smoothie with cream fresh from the cow.

Quinton is actually not only smiling, but laughing as stories are traded. Harmony is drenched; her skirts cling to her legs, her sleeveless shirt is also clinging to her body. Modesty is kept by the shawl that sits upon her shoulders.

"Yes, drinking with my parents. I led a wild life," Harmony offers theatrically dryly, adding a laugh. Leaning on the table, her own gaze is on the poet, and her lips press together as she considers the question. "Strawberries. They're fun to eat. They also go best with chocolate or with cream. Easy to pick, but they're horrible if you want to hide the fact you're snacking on them."

Quinton's head shakes, 'looking down at the plate of food. "I think…our definitions of wild…might be different." His head stays down, but his eyes lift up, "I was in…New York….readings…" Her fav gets a smile, "I'll find you…chocolate…" Always good to know, right? Oh! "Oh…I…" His lips purse, and eh thinks about how to ask, so he just does, "I found a ….a fur coat….might be good to sleep on…if you want?"

She'd woken early to help Harmony with the milking and such, and found time to help around a number of spots around camp, and having even made it in time for dinner - now Kayla makes her way towards her campsite, and tent, hair and shirt soggy.

Harmony smirks, but she simply can't contain a laugh. "So, yours was wilder than mine? A club in New York?" The laugh turns into a grin, and she teases, "Are poets really party animals? I thought it was all black turtlenecks and candles at the table and snapping?" And where's the fun in that? Though… "You'll have to tell me about it later. Around a camp fire."

Chocolate? Oh, see… poetry. Chocolate. "That would," and here she actually giggles and looks down at her hands, "If you could find chocolate, you'd be God's gift to women. I swear." Those hands are looking really interesting right now! She does lift her gaze again, brows rising. "You found… a fur? Like, a coat…" and he's offering it to her? "Aw, Quinton…"

Kayla's approach gains Harmony's attention, and she cranes her neck up to check on who it is. "Oh! Your sister…" Beat. "Kayla?!"

Quinton shakes his head, "No….It was at Christmas…so much beer…" Quin is soaked, the bandage around is torso visible through his wet t-shirt. He's eating rabbit and carrots. "Yes…and berets and cigarettes…" His wet bangs flop as he nots slowly, "Yeah, a coat….sould be soft…" The Aw Quinton gets an eyebrow raise, but thankfully(or not, his sister appears. Quin turns slowly, clearly in pain and offers her a smile, "Hey Kayla."

"Quin…you're up!" Kayla exclaims, lifting her hand to sweep dripping hair out of her face. She then ends the gesture with a wave. "Harmony, hi." She adjusts her path slightly to take her closer to the pair.

"I forgot. Berets and cigarettes. Silly me." Green eyes gleam with mirth as a hand raises, echoing the 'silly me'. Harmony can't help the laugh, and her voice drops, "That's… really sweet." And special. The thoughtfulness is almost enough to make her cry. She won't, though. He's laughing. He's smiling. And he's eating. For the briefest of moments, she lifts a hand to lay it upon his arm, just for that second of contact; and done. "Thank you."

Turning again, Harmony's easy smile is in place. "He is. Found him lurking outside the First Aid building in the rain. Okay, I was in the rain too because I was bringing him dinner. Here's a much better place for the time being." For now. "Hey, Kayla. We've just been talking."

Quinton's a dumb boy, even if he's all sensitive poet. "For what?" but his attention is brought back to his sister, "I wasn't…lurking." Kayla gets a smile, "How's today?"

Nodding as Harmony brings her up to speed on how Quinton was found, and what they're doing. "How's your head, Quin? Has that lump gone down at all?" She motions to an extra seat at the picnic table, silently asking if she can sit down. "And today is okay - busy. I didn't get out to look at those pits."

For what? Harmony could go down the list and still not finish before it was time to turn in for the night into her tent. The question receives a soft chuff of air and another smile; a fond one before she looks to Kayla.

"I hope not. Whomever dug them probably figured out that it was triggered and would be back. If you do get out there, I know I'm pretty much stating the obvious, but don't go out alone. Even I don't go out there." She and Quin had that talk only a little while ago! She smiles sympathetically, however. She knows how the other woman feels. "And it's not easy getting into the routine here. I'm really glad to have your help at the barn. Things are going a whole lot smoother, thank you. And the goats thank you. They told me to tell you that they swear they won't scare you by sticking their heads out from under the stall doors anymore." A bit tongue in cheek? Oh hell yes.. and Harmony is trying really hard not to laugh. The sight of disembodied goat heads peeking under a door is enough to startle anyone!

Quinton frowns, "There's…more than ..one?" He waves off the question about his head, not really sure how to answer that. he looks between the two, unsure what this talk of goats is.

Kayla takes the seat when no one objects, and she chuckles softly at the teasing. "Hey, I only squealed a little bit when the first one popped out!" she protests with a smirk. "And I won't go alone, but…someone needs to. I'll talk to Bob…"

"You can get even with them in the fall when your hands are cold," Harmony grins. "It'll serve 'em right." Cold hands on udders!

Harmony looks to Quinton and back to Kayla. She didn't know there was more either- not that she's in the loop of everything that happens outside the rising walls. Which reminds her… "Sonny is putting up a defensive wall. We might have to stop our scavenging to get it done quickly." Quinton, this means you! "Wood needs to get chopped, put into place." Though she most certainly isn't the one to make a call on whether or not the pits are searched. "Bob?" Did she hear that name before?

Quinton's frown increases. A wall? His mind starts racing in several different directions, probably none of them anything either woman would be happy about. He stops eating as he thinks, placing things in different orders of importance. if a wall is going up, his priorities need to change.

Kayla had thought Quinton was referring tot he goats, not the pits. "Yeah, Bob - the guy who is…used to be a sheriff. And I don't know if there's more than one but if there is we need to make sure no one else falls in. And if there's someone there who's a danger to us…" Kay trails off and sighs. She sees her brother's expression and frowns. "What? What are you thinking, Quin?"

And that, right there, is why Harmony doesn't usually leave the camp. To do so means that one needs to be willing to kill, and she can't do it, and she knows it. If she can't, she puts everyone else in harm's way, so… She doesn't respond, then, instead looking at Quinton. The word is a whisper, "Eat," before she begins to rise from her spot at the table. "I'm going to get some dry logs out to start a fire." She wants a campfire.

Quinton's eyes rise to meet Kayla's and he inhales, before quietly answering, "Things need to….happen…hiding isn't the answer." He doesn't know what is, but it's right there, if he could just grasp it! The quiet order is heard and he nods, although it's onl another bite to satisfy the flower child before he stops and starts contemplating the situation again.

Huffing a heavy sigh, Kayla nods and pushes up from her seat. "Yeah, hiding isn't the right thing. But neither is attacking blindly." She slowly rolls her head from left to right and back. "I'm going to sleep though…morning is early, and those goats are waiting…and I'm going to try and get out tomorrow to talk to Bob." With that, she leans over to lightly kiss the top of her brother's head and head for her tent.

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