(2015-09-11) Six-Shooters and Smokes
Six-Shooters and Smokes
Summary: Terry cleans his weapons, and chats with camp newcomer Sophia.
Date: 09.11.2015
Related: None

Administration Area Camp Hope
Sat Sep 12, 2015 — Sat Sep 12 00:16:32 2015

Following the road around the curve in it leads to a large area cleared of trees. To one side of the clearing is a parking lot, where several dust covered cars sit, one with it's hood standing open, exposing the engine to the weather.

Several building are in this area: Admin building, First-Aid Building, Restroom Facilities, a hand water pump is near the rest room, a few pails stacked nearby, and a large pole barn, which is always guarded by well armed individuals. Beyond those is the first of many campsites that dot the camp as well as a trail that leads to the river.

Across the clearing the road continues and there are several foot paths that lead in various directions.


It is summer. The weather is hot and overcast.

It's coming up on 13:00 hours, the camp is quiet, the sky is a beautiful shade of blue, where it peeks through the clouds. Terry's got a pair of old barrels supporting a long piece of posterboard — a rudimentary workbench or table — in front of a long, empty stretch of unoccupied space next to one of the paths. The hot, overcast weather, in Terry's opinion, is perfect for brushing up on firearms. He managed to swipe a cleaning kit from a gun shop in town a while back, and today seems like as good a day as any to clean up the arsenal. Laid out on the table are a small variety of pistols, rifles, shotguns, and carbines. Terry's currently going over a Colt Paterson, giving the gun a good buffing with a cloth.

Sophia is walking about, learning the lay of the camp. She's still not certain this is her best bet, but she's giving it a shot. The tiny woman is curious, and definitely not shy, so when she sees Terry she walks right up, looking down at what he's doing. "That's an awful lot of firepower…all your's?" She ends the question with a wide, friendly smile.

"Collected over years and years, yes ma'am." Terry responds, nodding. Finishing up with the one weapon, he sets to work on the next, clearing the chamber, checking the sights, giving it a good weigh, and then getting to work on cleaning the weapon. "You can never be too prepared in situations like these."

Sophia chuckles, it's a deep and warm laugh. "Yeah…I guess all the survivalist are proving the rest of us wrong now, eh?"She steps up and casually traces a finger along the barrel of weapon he just cleaned, "I know enough to keep mine clean…but that's just barely.." Her eyes are dark, almost black as she brings them up to regard the man, "I'm Sophia."

"Terry Collins." The man responds. The hot weather's a perfect excuse for him to not wear so much clothing… so he's going with a pair of beige "survivalist" boots, tan shorts, and a black muscle shirt that clings almost sinfully to his torso, and shows off his arms.. including a ring of thorns tattoo wrapped around his right bicep, close to his shoulder, and 'Teufel Hunden 1997-2007' on his back. He continues working on his weapons, noting the touchy-feely Sophia woman. "So, what brings you to Camp Hope?"

Sophia's not shy about eyeing the man up and down, but she then laughs, "Same thing as everyone else…survival. I got ran outta my place by some army twats…" She sighs, shaking her head so her dark locks sway. Finally her finger pulls away from the gun and loops into her back pocket. "What about you?"

"Sonny and I are… old friends, you could say. Met a while back. I helped out with a gig, and bollocksed my exfil. They offered a spot at the camp, I wasn't totally sold (my head was elsewhere), so I initially said 'thanks but no thanks' and bailed.. a while later, I realized I was shooting a gift-horse in the face, so I came back. I've been with these guys since… it'll be a month not this coming Sunday, but the Sunday after that. The twentieth." Terry responds, picking up the buffing cloth and tying it into a blindfold. He then disassembles the rifle he was working on, gives it a good scrubbing, and re-assembles it, after which he takes off the makeshift blindfold and buffs the weapon to a good shine.

Sophia makes an interested face about something he says. and then watches, impressed wight eh blind fold trick. When it's off she'll laugh, "Do you find pure blind folded often?"There's a definite teasing tone in her voice, not too pushy, but it is there.

"Rarely without consent. I mean, there was that one time I woke up blindfolded, cuffed to the headboard of a bed in a seedy motel, years ago…" Terry responds, deadpan serious. And then a grin forms.

Sophia smirks back, "Sounds fun." Her head cocks to the side, and she doesn't quite bat her eyes, but it's close. "The good doctor and I are going to be setting ups poker night…do you play?"

"Naw, I preferred pretty pink ponies and frilly things when I was deployed." Terry says, with a definite air of sarcasm. Not dripping, per se, but enough to be obvious. "Yeah, I play. You?"

Sophia raises a shoulder in a half shrug, "I do okay….it nice to have something to look forward to, anyway." A half step closer to the man, "Virgil says he's gonna make a poker table for us eventually, if this becomes a regular thing."

"Yeah. I ran the whole 'shop' idea by Sonny. Said he'd think on it. I'm thinking, after we get a carpenter's shop, and a blacksmith/foundry, among other things, I can get a gunsmith shop going, and we can really start fighting back. I'd like to see how those creeps like the taste of bangalore." Terry grins, playfully, and makes a little explosion motion with his hands.

Sophia snorts, "That's…great. I was thinning a little more immediate. Like…poker night, or figuring out how we can all sleep in real beds." She's grinning though, glad someone is thinking about fighting back. "Well…I guess I should let you get back to polishing your guns." Yes, she means that as dirty as it sounds, "I'll let you know about the poker night." She'll start to walk away with just enough sass in her step to keep someone's attention…if they were looking.

Terry reaches into his pocket, fishes out a pack of smokes, taps one out, lights up, and puffs away, filling the air with the scent of high-quality smokes. "I'll be there.. Gonna be strip, or what? Either's fine with me." He says, around the cigarette, as he gets back to work on the weapons.

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