(2015-09-02) Brothers And New Faces
Brothers and New Faces
Summary: Terry reunites with his brother. Willy is met.
Date: 9.2.2015
Related: None


Street Name: Main Street

Direction: North/South

The first thing that hits you when you reach the outskirts is the smell. The town was abandoned months ago and with no one to maintain the sewers or anything else for that matter, the whole system has backed up. On days with heavy rain, the whole drainage system backs up as well and the low lying streets are ankle deep under not so pleasant water.

The outskirts is a mix of trees and a house or two.

Mid-morning finds the outskirts of Fremont relatively quiet, which is normal. It's further into the town where things get noisy and dangerous, with bandits on the loose an all. The intel the bandit defectors provided, added to what the recon mission found out they have a pretty good picture of who the bandit enemy is and how to deal with it. The mystery now is the sniper that is taking them out, one by one. Que Piper…don't be mistaken she wasn't told to come or asked in any way, shape or form. In fact she has been expressly forbid to go anywhere near the town or wander more than two miles from camp, but when you are a ghost who can stop you. She moves though the trees between the few houses in the area, her barefeet making no noise, she is just another shadow amoung many. She is on her on mission, to determine if this sniper is a Silencer a Kamo Kid or just another helpful human.

Another ghost is wending its way through the outskirts, coming out of the junkyard, flitting from shadow to shadow, then pausing extensively to survey before moving to the next. The eclectic style of dress that should not be camoflage turns out to work in urban environments; the darker colours blending in well with the kinds of colours you find on weathered houses.

Flit. Pause. Flit. Pause. The cycle repeats as the ghost clears the gate and stops to survey the street.

Then, after ascertaining that everything's clear, Willy flits out once more, completely missing the low iron bar and falling flatly, loudly, face-first into the thick, "mud" that coats the road.

Terry knew the risks wandering around the area. He'd been briefed back at camp. Still, he'd been getting a feeling in his gut. His scavenging luck had taken a turn for the worse.. but today seemed different. Perhaps today he'd score a decent haul. The former scout sniper wanders the grounds, doing his best to keep up on his sound and light discipline, and thus remain as close to a ghost's shadow as possible during his excursion.. Terry's search turns up an interesting set of items, including a mannequin's foot, a flower (might give it to Harmony), and a bumper sticker.

And then there's the sudden appearance of Willy. Terry ducks into cover, unsure of whether the unfamiliar face is friend or foe, and he's not about to just walk up and say "Hi" quite yet.

From somewhere not too far away comes the unmistakable sounds of someone not-so-stealthy moving at a fast pace: a twig snaps, brush rustles, mud slucks lightly underfoot. Finn continues moving along the edges of the trees, oblivious to others in the area or their immaculate alertness.

One moment Terry is hanging out by his lonesome under the cover of some foliage, the next moment there is Piper, rifle in hand and staring at the spectactle that is the form of Willy face down in the mud. For a woman as pregnant as she is, she really moves quietly. It's almost creepy. She of course says nothing, when does she ever talk. She does gesture though, tapping an eye, holding up two fingers and pointing out where the second person is, though the second person is quite obvious. May as well be an elephant truding through the neighborhood.

"Shitshitshitshitshit…" The voice is low, but carries through the quiet street as Willy quickly scrambles up and desperately searches for the nearest cover. "Fuckin' smooth move!" is muttered quietly as the "mud"-soaked figure spots a good source of cover and makes a beeline for it, desperately casting about for any sign of trouble.

Suddenly, Willy stops. Stands dead-still in the middle of the street. Slowly raises both arms.

"I'm not a threat." The voice that comes from the pathetic, muddy figure quavers in obvious dread, almost squeaking as vocal control fails. Eyes look straight at Terry, staring into the very cover that was earlier the planned destination. "Please don't shoot me? Your friends neither?"

The scout sniper glances to Piper, and then to Willy. "If I was going to ventilate you, we wouldn't be having this conversation. That should say something." Terry nods. "Your tactical movement needs some work." Beat. "What's your name, and where're you from?" The sound of a twig snapping catches his ear, but he ignores it for now, focusing instead on Willy.

Once Willy starts talking, it's quite clear to Finn that he's not alone. More than one of them, too. He stops his elphantesque rush through the foliage and hunkers down. Stay low, don't make any noise is the plan. He grips the piece of 2x4 he's carrying in case things go south.

Once Willy starts talking, it's quite clear to Finn that he's not alone. More than one of them, too. He stops his elphantesque rush through the foliage and hunkers down. Stay low, don't make any noise is the plan. He grips the piece of 2x4 he's carrying in case things go south. (re)

At a petite 5'1" and with a quite obvious baby belly, Piper hardly looks a threat, stunning looks of course add to her harmless appearance, the rifle in hand definitely looks out of place. It's aimed at the ground at the moment. Dark eyes, the pupils a bit to large for the level of daylight, move between the muddy figure of Willy and the bushes where the other unknown person is hiding.

Willy carefully drops one arm, keeping the other hoisted where it can be clearly seen. "I'm not reaching for a weapon! I've got some stuff for trade. I'm just passing through. I'm Willy. And I'm from …" A short pause. "… It's complicated. Let's just say I'm from San Francisco and leave it at that."

The accent is not San Franciscan. It's not even American. It's faint, but it's there.

Slowly, carefully, with no sudden movements, Willy unslings the jarring pink backpack. "I've got brake fluid. You guys need brake fluid? I'll trade it for … uh … well … not dying would be a good start." A smile attempts to make itself visible. It fails as the terror keeps control of the battlefield. "And if you could maybe see your way to a bit of … I don't know … squirrel or rat or something like that? I'm a bit hungry."

Spotting Piper's glance over at the trampling oaf's stopping point, Willy's eyes widen. "Not one of yours?" This is mouthed, not spoken, but with words still very clear to anybody who can see.

The sniper eyeballs the pink pack. "Brake fluid, eh? … We might be able to use that.. and not dying, I can agree to that." The sniper relaxes, visibly. "Though I don't have squirrel, or rat, or anything like that on me at the moment, we've got some decent rations back at camp."

Finn edges himself backward from the immediate scene and prepares to exit while the two most obvious threats (the men) are completely absorbed in each other. He raises a bit and sets off as quietly as possible in a direction away from town.

Piper makes an eww face at the mention of rats. She has never been hungry enough to go for eating rats. The rifle is handed off to Terry for a moment as she shrugs out of her backpack. What she needs is right at the top so within a few moments an energy bar is being tossed through the air at Willy. Much better than rat, that's for sure. Once the pack is back on she will take her rifle back. Her eyes flick to the bushes at the movement there, but as long as there isn't any hostile moves in their direction she does little about it.

Quinton went out alone today. After the fiasco of yesterday, he needed to clear his head and not be in charge of anyone. Luck seems to be not in his favor for that though as he hears voices. The poet is dressed in his typical jeans and t-shirt, a pair of sunglasses is onto of his shaggy blonde hair. He's finally getting used to the holsted wrapped around him, hopefully he won't need to have to pull his gun. A mostly empty backpack weights nothing so he can move fairly fast. the retreating Finn gets his attention though. The man is eyes, first to see if there's any weapons, next to see if he's injured at all. Quin is making no attempt at being hidden from Finn and his hands are out showing he has no weapons.

Willy tries to catch the energy bar and succeeds after fumbling with it and nearly dropping it.

"Oh, wow," after a low whistle of appreciation. "You guys can afford this kind of stuff?" Black eyes rake over the pair, paired with a calculating look. "I've got brake pads too. Think we can…"

Quinton's arrival to the scene interrupts the bargaining session. "Jeez, it's like a street market here! Can we go somewhere more private for this?" A certain note of peevishness has entered the voice.

Terry is in a bit of a state of heightened awareness, so when Finn moves to exfiltrate, Terry notices *someone*, perhaps not immediately exactly whom it is. He bolts after the figure, almost bumping into Quin on the way, leaving the others behind. As he closes in, he gets this feeling in his gut.. That one unmistakable feeling of closing in on flesh and blood. Or perhaps he's been without kin for so long that he's finally snapped. In any case, he makes like a gazelle, unleashes his inner Usain Bolt, and so on.

Finn is on a retreat and someone is right behind him. Who it is doesn't really matter, because out here if you're being hunted, you're dead. He grips the shortened 2x4 in his hand, turns around and bring it down on the assailant. It didn't hit with the full effect, however, and both men are thrown to the ground in the resulting tackle. The 2x4 drops a few feet away from them.

The answer to Willy is a hand wobble, whatever that means. Piper then shakes her head and waves off the offer. In a world where only the bad guys have working vehicles who has need of car parts…okay so they do have one working vehicle, but they still don't need those just yet, and probably have some stashed somewhere. As Terry makes like a football player to go tackle the unknown person in the bushes her brow furrows as her gaze follows him, noticing Quinton in the process. She's in trouble.

"Look I'll tell you what," Willy says hastily. "You're in that camp down the way there, right? I'll drop by later with the brake fluid … you can trust me, I'm not a thief … and you guys can handle whatever it is you guys are handling right now with the traffic here. I'm really not into the whole fighting and dying thing. I'll drop by and talk to whoever survived."

With that Willy snags the pack and makes a sprint for the woods, not bothering to try and hide just yet, just to get distance from the combat.

Quinton blinks, taking a step backward now. There's suddenly swinging and tackling and..he should have just kept walking apparently. His gun comes out though, "Hey…Stop!" He's not pointing it at the tumble pair, just ready incase one of them gets too violent. Pale eyes dart over and when they land on Piper he frowns. Another emotion crosses his face and he looks to Willy as he leaves and then back to the pair. The immediate tussle is more important.

Terry has his man, straddling the would-be evader. A struggle ensues, the two exchange blows.. or, at least, try to. They're both evenly matched in their abilities, so it looks more like a slap-fight than a beatdown at this point. He's not even really trying to *hurt* the guy, maybe just restrain him so he can be properly questioned. In any case, yes, slap-fight.

Finn is on his back, being pressed into the ground and flailing his arms to get the assailant to not hit him in the face. When one of the other voices yells to stop, he relents… a bit. He also realizes these aren't the people he thought he was running from. Then he realizes something else and the look of confusion on his face is apparently. "Terry?" The confusion is short-lived. "Damn it. Get off me." He shoves the elder Collins in the chest.

The leaving of Willy gets little response except a brief nod from Piper, she is busy watching the scuffle between the two men. As they fight she wanders closer, studying the two men as the altercation comes down to girlish slapping at each other. A smirk comes to her face, they are so lucky she doesn't talk (to a majority of people), otherwise they would never live this down…the still might not. The outburst from Quinton has her giving him a brief look and a shrug. Then it seems the younger one recognizes Terry, which elicits some confusion on her part.

Quinton just ignores Piper. He'll be mad at her later. Or maybe not. It doesn't seem to matter, why should he bother? It seems like the two men aren't going to actually hurt each other, so Quin takes another step back, eyeing them before sighing and slipping the gun back into the holster.

Very few things render a Marine speechless. Realizing you've just had a slap-fight with your once-long-lost brother is one thing. Terry's hands drop to his sides, and he just.. sits there, staring down at the younger Collins with a look of absolute shock.. like somebody had set a bomb off in his mind. Suddenly, he's on his feet, helping Finn up, and then squeezing him in a borderline-chiropractic bear-hug. "Finn!" He's not gonna cry. Not gonna cry. Marines don't cry. Those aren't tears, he's just sweaty from the wrassling.

Finn picks himself up as well, caught in the bear hug before he can pick up the small pack he dropped or the 2x4. After letting him have his moment, he whispers, "Can't breathe. And I think your friends are watching us…" his eyes move to woman-who-is-more-hair-than-person and then to the man, as though assessing both of them.

Dark eyes flit from one man to the other. Fighting and now all bearhuggy…Piper's broken brain isn't sure how to process the sudden change. She backs up even further, flanking the poet so he is sorta between her and the two men. No risk of her freaking out or anything, just her usual stranger nerves. She just watches, that's her thing.

Another soft sigh, this time not at the two men, nor even the woman be hid him now. Instead Quin looks around the area, making sure that beyond the retreated Willy, there's no one else watching or near. Perhaps he can slip away too? Instead of that tempting idea, "You two…ok?"

"Yeah," Terry says with absolute certainty. "We're good. Nothin' cures ailments like a bro-hug…" The death-grip is released just as quickly as it began. "Guys.. this is my little brother. It's been a while since I've seen his ugly mug." Beat. "And yes, before any of you ask, I was sweating. Those were not tears. And if you're thinking of spreading rumors to the contrary, know this… I have no qualms doing unspeakably insidious things to keep my 'Badass Club' membership." Obviously not a real threat.

Finn looks more nervous than relieved to see Terry, to be honest. He keeps glancing between Terry and the others and then toward the city. "This is all really good, Terr, but maybe we could save this for after we put some distance between us and Fremont." The look in his eyes say there's more to this than he's not saying, but he's certainly not going to entertain a long story out here in the open.

The reminder of their location has Piper looking around, Piper really shouldn't have let herself get distracted. Not with both bandits and an unknown sniper around. She makes a winding gesture with a hand and then points west, over the river in the general direction of camp. Which probably means she is in agreement with the new guy.

Quinton eyes them all, especially Terry's weird outburst, and then just nods, "ok…see you back at camp." He didn't come with the group. His backpack is adjusted and a brief look at Piper that's unreadable and he'll turn and head into town. Scavenging isn't going to do itself.

Terry nods to Quin. "I'll catch up with you later." He then directs his attention to little bro. "You and I have some catching up to do. You're going to *love* the camp.."

Finn takes a quick moment and picks up his pack and the 2x4. "Camp?" he asks, incredulously. "You want to /stay/ in /Nebraska/?" Clearly, only the beginning of a long conversation where Finn is going to insist on staying only a few days.

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