(2015-09-03) Silencer v. Silencer
Silencer v. Silencer
Summary: A meeting by the water leaves both women shaken
Date: 9.3.2015
Related: None

The sun is making its way to the western horizon, signaling that soon the light will end and the night will begin. As has been the case for quite a few months now, the lake house area is as quiet as ever, the only noises being the ducks, geese and other wildlife that make the lake home. The woman, bow in hand, arrow nocked and ready to fly makes less noise than the flock of geese she is stalking from the cattails. How a woman as pregnant as she is can move so silently is a mystery. Though an even bigger one for others of her kind is how is she even pregnant in the first place.

<FS3> Jules rolls Alertness: Good Success.

It's been a full day since she's arrived in camp, though Jules hasn't been that talkative or together with most of the groups. Still strangely on the outside, watching, trying to find any old, familiar faces from Fremont…any of the faces she swore to protect. None yet. So she walks, trapped in her own thoughts, gun still heavy on her hip but undrawn for the moment. She's not bothering with her suit jacket, not in this weather. Instead, it's that slim pair of suit pants and a camisole that was once white but is now old and stained, some blood, some sweat. Her arms, free of scars or injury, are bare and sculpted. Her midnight silk hair cascades free, for the moment. This is as relaxed as she has looked in a long time. Silently, her booted feet carry her towards the water, but she is listening.. watching. Part of her feels not alone.

An arrow whizzes and there is a strangled squawk of a goose followed by the beat of wings as the flock the one that meet the grim reaper is spooked into flight. Nope not alone, a petite woman, who seems all wild hair, splashes through the water toward where the dead water fowl floats, arrow sticking out of its chest. Thankful for her the water is shallow there, only up to her knees so wading through it isn't to difficult. She is focused on her prey though so the other woman goes unnoticed until she turns to the shore to wade out and stops dead in her tracks, staring a moment before dropping the bird and quickly nocking an arrow on the only weapon she has at the moment her bow. She lifts and aims but doesn't fire. She may regret it, but she can't help but picture pale green eyes looking at her in disdain when she thinks about just removing the assumed threat the woman poses immediately. She's gone soft. Damn the man.

The moment Jules realizes she's not alone — and then realizes *she's not alone* — her hand goes to that gun on her hip and the weapon is raised as smooth and fast as breathing. Instinctively, she's dropping down to her knees, get low to the ground in any fire fight because the person across from her should hopefully be shooting where her chest or head WAS, not IS. She's trained. She's fast, and she's now got a gun trained on that very pregnant figure across from her. However, much like her opposite, she does not shoot. She just stares quietly, shallow breath coming through her nose. Finally, her voice states flatly, "I…can do a lot more damage with this than you can with that. I… suggest you put down your weapon."

A stalemate, she's been in this position before, and last time it was with the Others as well, but not one like her, not one of the Enders. This isn't going to be easy, even on her good days she can only talk to one or two people, one or two syllables at a time. A complete stranger, that's going to be impossible. A finger loosens from the grip on the bow, flexes outward to point to Jules and then points to herself. She is trying to communicate something, she does it a few more times and slowly nods her head. Perhaps suggesting they lower at the same time?

Ice blue eyes, almost inhuman in their striking nature alone, stare hard at the woman across from her. Jules does not respond at first, including not lowering her weapon. She just stares, hardly breathing. Hardly moving. Her gun does not waver as she pieces through it. The camp is right there. They are, technically, in camp. The woman was using nothing more than a bow. She was pregnant. She was as close to non-com as one gets without having no weapons what so ever. And she'd not slaughtered the lot of them already. Still, Jules' weapon remains lofted. "What are you doing here? Are you going to hurt them?"

<FS3> Pied-Piper rolls Mind: Success.

Piper's eyes begin to water, from not blinking, as she stares right back. She already knows that the other woman is going to win this one. She is already feeling her arm start to tremble from holding the string pulled back. The question though, especially the second is unexpected and so horrifying to her that the bow is lowered so quickly that the arrow fires down into the water "No!" she exclaims shaking her head, a hand going up to tangle in her hair at the horrific images the single question brings up. She seems to know who them are at least and must have something to do with them to elicit such an emotional response.

<FS3> Jules rolls Empathy: Good Success.

The cop waits, her gun still lofted, not wavering but also not shooting. The safety is off. She's ready to shoot if she must, but the trigger isn't being pressed. That sudden outburst makes a single dark brow arch, believing the woman surprisingly. This is a strange conundrum. Still, weapon pointed, she asks smoothly, "Why?" The training of her gun and her entire demeanor says that the woman better had be convincing, because there is no fear of killing in her. Just no joy in it either.

A hand wipes at her eyes, dashing the tears that formed as she held them open to long. Piper takes a few deep breathes, calming herself. The question clearly touched a nerve in the emotionally fragile…or quite possibly hormonal woman. This question is easier to answer and her free hand goes to her belly, "Fami…" beat "Fam…" too many syllables she sighs in frustration "Home." she settles on.

<FS3> Jules rolls Empathy: Success.

Even for all the strangeness of who she is — what she is — she knew how to read them. Humans, at least. Was reading her own kind any different? It should be easier, in truth. Jules draws in a slow breath as she hears that response and then looks down to the woman's belly. "…Whose is it? One of their's?" She asks coldly, a bit disbelieving about that, but she's not done with her interrogation yet and another intruder is not getting the good-cop treatment from her, pregnant or not.

Piper has no lies for the woman, but plenty for the people she shares her daily life with. It's actually a relief to be honest for once. A head shake, no not one of theirs. Her dark eyes, drop from Jules equally beautiful face to the gun in her hand "Shoot." she says as she taps her chest, left of center. As if the situation couldn't get any odder she is asking for death.

Other or not, a good cop is built on instincts. Jules has always been a *good cop*. Her finger weighs a bit, wanting to press, to get it over with easy and done, but she cannot breathe out the way she needs to finish the shot. Her heart isn't there. Her instincts are screaming and she doesn't understand why. "…One of theirs?" She nods towards the sky, not entirely able to hide the hate from her voice as she speaks about those above.

Her eyes lift upward in the direction indicated by the other woman, eyes locking on the great big mother ship that hovers in the distant. She has little voice for hatred to find its way into, but she has eyes and if looks could blow it out of the sky, it would be crashing down to earth now. Shaking her head her eyes return to Jules "Broken." she's broken. She would have to be otherwise her condition would be impossible.

It's the hate that does it. Hate, Julia knows. Hate for everything, hate for the confusion, hate for split loyalties, hate for the screaming in the back of her head, hate for the thing in the sky… "Not broken." She motions to the woman before pointing up to the sky, "Broken. F*cked. Awful. Not you." She stares hard at the woman's eyes, looking for some sort of confirmation of these thoughts, that she wasn't alone. Maybe she wasn't alone.

There is confusion at the denial and eyes lift again when the sky is pointed at, the words click in her brain. They are F*cked. They are awful. But she is still broken, though doesn't argue that she isn't. Instead she nods in agreement at them all, confirmation enough. Not alone. Not in that thinking at least. She makes a lowering gesture to the gun still being pointed at her. She figures if she woman was really going to kill her she would have shoot when she was asked too and not wasted breath asking questions.

Slowly, the woman across from her lowers her gun. She stares hard at the 'broken one'. "…Don't tell anyone. Or I will shoot." Jules might mean it… She probably hasn't decided yet. But with those words, she begins to back out of the area, away from the woman…

That would probably be doing the woman a favor. The thing is who would believe her. She would have to out herself to prove it and that is probably the last thing the pregnant woman wants. Piper watches the woman leave, staying in place until she is out of sight before grabbing her dead goose and running all the all back to camp.

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