(2015-09-10) Female Solidarity?
Female Solidarity?
Summary: Is there such a thing anymore? Maybe a little
Date: 9.10.2015
Related: None

The early evening, much like the rest of the day has been pleasantly warm. The camp has been busy. Lots of work is going on to help secure the place against threats and in preparation for the winter to come.

All the hard work shows in comradery and appetite. The latter of which was quite abundant at the evening meal. There were barely any left overs, which is just as well, they are hard to save with no refrigeration.

With the evening meal recently over, clean up has begun. The large dining hall is empty save Piper and the littlest of the flock, Troy. Piper is hard at work, folding the chairs and putting them on the racks so she can do a thorough sweep on the floor. The infant sits in his stroller, a wooded spoon in each hand, one he uses to teeth on. The recently scavenged gramophone fills the room with the classic Neil Diamond tunes to which the pregnant woman hums along to as she works. It doesn't drown out the noise of cleaning and chatter from the kitchen, but it does make it less noticeable.

Piper is looking quite different than usual. The usual being her face obscured with hair. Her long, wild hair is pulled back into two French braids that fall down her back. The tails of the braids are joined with silver wire and the braids decorated with small turquoise beads. Her hair being back and in control exposes her exotic face for all to see.

Kayla was late getting back to the camp tonight – her scavenging was less productive than usual, but she hadn’t come back empty handed. She appears with her ever present backpack hanging off of one shoulder and a half eaten granola bar in one hand. It’s not much of a meal, being old and hard and dry, but it’s something and she hadn’t expected the kitchen to be occupied, nor that there would be any leftovers (there hadn’t been all week, with the appetites of those living in the Camp).

Kay’s steps slow as she sees the unfamiliar person stacking chairs, and it takes her a moment to recognize Piper with her hair back. When she does, her face brightens and she grins. “Hey, Piper,” she calls, lifting her hand to offer a wave to the other woman.

A couple of more chairs go on the rack, and so many more to go. The woman is unbothered by the work. It is something useful to do at least. The wooden spoon drops to the floor as the infant lets out a giggle, and Piper patiently moves to retrieve it and give it back to the child.

Kayla's entrance and greeting has her attention pulled from babe to newcomer and a tentative smile is given along with a wave in greeting. Fingers go the lips, a sign for eat perhaps and a gesture to the kitchen. Perhaps telling the woman she could probably still get food if she asked in there. It might be cold but it is better than a stale granola bar.

Kayla waves off the offer, though she looks at the bar with a grimace. “it’s open now, might as well finish it!” Besides, she’s sure there are others (like the children) who need more food than she does!
“Want a hand?” she wonders as she shrugs out of her backpack and drops it next to the wall halfway down the room. She moves to collect one of the nearby chairs, folding it, before she receives a response.
There is something about that, that Piper finds amusing, or so the chuckle would leave one to believe. A nod is given though, she can't force the other woman to eat, nor does she want to even try. She'll save that for the other Wells sibling.

A glance is given at all the chairs that have to be put back. It seems like more has to be put in place and then put away everyday. The fact that the camp is growing is good, but the added work! Another nod and a thankful smile. Two people will get it done so much faster.

Before she grabs another pair of chairs she gives Kayla a questioning look, points to her and makes the ok sign? Asking if she is okay.

Kayla reaches for a second chair as she catches sight of the sigh. She shrugs, and then nods. “As well as can be expected. My brother’s mad at me because I didn’t let him play hero on the lion hunt when he jumped into me to knck me out of the way. I grabbed him and rolled, instead, so he’s mad.” Kayla’s face wrinkles and she huffs a heavy sigh. “I don’t know when he gained this hero’s complex, but…it terrifies me!”

She shuts the chair harder than necessary, and hauls them over to the stack.

This is something Piper can understand. The Quinton getting mad when you try to exert some independence. Fetching the spoon of the floor to give back to the infant and then her whiteboard. She can't sign everything so tries to be prepared.

"He got mad at me the other day when I insisted going to the radio station with him." she writes and moves to Kayla to show her. There was an argument and she ended up not going. So it isn't just Kayla he acts overprotective with. He doesn't want the pregnant woman to even leave the camp. Yes, Piper finds this a bit stifling and annoying.

“Well…I hate to say it Piper but…you have to be even more careful than me.” Kayla isn’t quite as overprotective as her brother, but she can understand it with Piper at least. “Especially as you get closer to being due. Still…I think he just wishes we didn’t have to deal with all this crap.” She waves a hand absently towards the window, indicating the outside world in general.

Switching subjects, she goes back to collect other chairs. “How’re the kids about their lessons? I know they will likely tell you more than me…”

The expression she gives at Kayla's words suggests none of them want to deal with this crap. Piper sighs though. So much for female solidarity. She was hopeful, but not surprised at the response.

The subject change sends her back the work. She grabs the broom though and begins to sweep, after she gives a hand wobble in answer. Not a surprising answer. She makes fists and puts them on top of her head to signify the littlest girl, Becca, and then paints a smile on. Becca enjoys the lessons at least.

Catching the sigh, Kayla promptly sticks her tongue out. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t do STUFF, just maybe not the most dangerous stuff where –running- a long distance might be required. That said…want to go scavenging with me tomorrow?” There, maybe that will sooth the clearly ruffled feathers of the other woman.

Clunk. Clunk. Two more chairs are folded up and stacked. “I’m not focusing on the more complicated stuff – but things that they’ll find helpful, I hope. History, reading, writing, basic math…” She shrugs and then grins. “Yeah, Becca seems to like the lesson on coniferous versus deciduous trees.”

The tongue gesture gets another chuckle, and it is returned. The invitation has her face lighting up and nodding adamantly. She would love to get out of camp, even if it is just for a walk, but scavenging is a bonus.
She continues to sweep, mostly under the tables where people have sat down to eat. There is a head tilt when Kayla lists the lessons and a laugh at what Becca the three year old enjoyed. The whiteboard is picked up again, wiped quickly and writing is done. "She likes to draw them." Becca likes to draw and color just about anything really. "They aren't to much trouble?" is asked on the board. All the kids, that is.

“Of course not…it’s wonderful getting the chance to teach. I never thought I’d get to!” Kayla insists as another pair of chairs are located, collapsed, collected and deposited on a pile. “It’s almost life as normal, when that WAS normal.” And she sounds like she means it.

“Yeah, Becca liked picking up leaves, needles and pinecones and sorting them into the ‘summer’ or ‘all year’ piles.”
Piper glances at Kayla as she sweeps, to show that she listening to what the woman is telling her. She makes. A hmming noise and gives a nod. That makes sense, considering the circumstances. Sweeping the debris into a pile near where her whiteboard sits, she once more writes a message. "Being able to do now what you did before is nice. It makes things more bearable?" Once the message is shown, she leans the broom against the table and starts on chairs again. So many chairs..if 40-something could be considered many.

Reading the message, Kayla nods. “Yeah. It makes it feel less like the end of everything.” She pauses and moves towards the last group of chairs. “What did you do before all this?” She has her guesses, but she’s also fairly sure that none of them are even close to correct. One thing she’s learned is that you can’t tell much about people from ‘before’ by what they are now.

As the rest of the chairs are put away Piper finishes the sweeping. Continuing to glance at Kayla as she speaks. She moves to put the broom away, the question causing her to start to look a bit twitchy. She clearly hasn't come to terms with all she has lost just yet. She does answer though, but not in writing. She moves to where the gramaphone sits with its small collection of records. The music is stopped and then she pulls an old record from the stand. Staring at it a moment she walks over and hands it to the other woman. It's an album from the late 19th century, a recording of an Italian opera. She taps the album, her chest and mimes singing. She quickly turns to gather her things before emotion can overwhelm her, she is then out the door. Not much use for an opera singer in the apocalypse.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License