(2015-11-04) Of Goldfish Crackers and Guerrilla Warfare
Of Goldfish Crackers and Guerrilla Warfare
Summary: Goldfish crackers are found, Dixie shares her views on the current situation with Quinton, and lets slip that she's considering striking out towards Alabama.
Date: 11.04.2015
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://mushname.wikidot.com/logtitle)
Players:
dixie..quinton..

It's early morning when Quin headed out. After Bob's (In Quin's mind) slightly paranoid speech, everyone is trying to roam with a partner. So here Quin is with Dixie. He's not been very talkative, but that could be the time of day. No coffee will do that. He had steered them into the church for some reason and here they are, scavenging.

Dixie didn't need encouragement to go with Quin. She knows that he's a good scavenger, and keeps his head down. They been out before on scavenging runs. She seems a little apphrensive about searching through a church, but she does so any way. After all, the Lord Looks after those who look after themselves, so hey, perhaps the Lord will provide his blessing?

And so he is. Piper was right, there's a food bank that the other inhabitants of the town have some how missed. It's the first place Quinton checks, his backpack already shrugged off an unzipped. "Good…this is…good." Even if they find nothing else today, the food here will help a lot. Quin's voice is softer than usual, like he's tired or upset. Hard to tell with him.

Dixie's own search finds water, some sauce and pens. "Oh bother, who uses red pen?" she asks herself as she starts to sort through them. "Everyone knows black is more official, and blue is kind of half way." She pauses for a moment. "Hey, Porkchop, your sister would use red pens later, right?" The clothing is also collected. It's a strange thing to hear from Dixie, but there's also an excited cry, that only last for a few moments until she covers it up. "Hey… Hey Quinton. I… I found two boxes of Goldfish crackers. Oh! Uh, do you want to split a box? I haven't had these in so long!"

Thankfully Quin's got his back turned so whatever expression he has is hidden. Although the tightening of his shoulder may be noticed. "…yes. Kayla might…" Kayla's is the only name he gets right consistently. And Baby Quinn's. At her cry, even though it's excited, the poet turns quickly, hand going for the gun in the holster. It takes him a moment to register she used his real name, and then what she says. "…Sure? If…you don't mind….sh.." He stops, frowning at himself, "…Yes. Please." He misses saltily stuff, more than anything, really. And Sodas. And everything. The tall man stands up, his back cracking once before heading over to where ever she's found the snacks.

Dixie rattles the box as she stands up. "Hey, we're both out here, so it's good! Sure, we might get thirsty later, but I've got water!" she smiles brightly. She leans up against one of the pews nearby and opens the box and slips a few fingers inside. She takes a handful and slips them into her mouth, and shakes the box, offering the box towards Quin. She chews, looking more than happy, complete with a smile on her lips.

Quinton leans against the pew as well, taking the box when offered. Dixie is studied as he chews. Two smiles in two days? Weird. "Doing…ok?"

"I'm still alive," Dixie admits to Quinton. "I… It's strange, after a bad situation these days, I kind of smile." She takes a deep breath. "When you stayed here, I thought you would have been killed. Well, you ain't me, but you've surived this long, so you've either got luck or skill on your side. I shouldn't be worried, Porkchop.." She offers a shrug of her shoulders. "I miss Sonny, though." She frowns again. "I wish that old man was with us still. He'd know what to do."

Quinton frowns slightly, "No…he wouldn't.." The poet shifts, turning to face Dixie and lean his hip against the pew, "No one…knows. This is…no amount of preparing for…aliens…" He sighs, taking another handful of crackers, but he lets his pale eyes roam the church. "My words…mixed, jumbled…. not broken." His head shakes softly, "I'm not…useless." ouch. In the end times, there's nothing worse to be.

Dixie regards Quinton for a few moments, and she shakes her head. "Well, he'd have more of an idea of what to do," she admits. She takes another handful herself, and starts to chew on them thoughtfully. "Well, let us consider them aliens professionals. After all, in a fire fight, those who ain't got an idea what they're doing can trump the experts. I was close earlier to day, to suggesting we take a foot forward by hitting them in guerilla warfare style attacks." She offers a shrug. "I ain't special forces. I'm still infantry to the core." She shakes her head. "Porkchop, if you were useless, I promise you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You got eyes for things most of the folk around don't. You know when to back off, when to run. You've got tactics on your side. It's a skill that some of us ain't got."

That's…not really helpful. The poet (let's not kid anyone, he's a poet at heart) keeps his eyes on the surrounding church and will mumble softly, "You should have…need to strike back….won't know anything until.." He's been saying that for months, but no one has listened. Anything helpful is negated but the nickname and Quin just sighs, chewing the crackers.

"We need a place to strike out from," Dixie remarks, as she regards the Poet. "We need several places that ain't linked to where we live." She slowly shakes her head. "Even if it was listened to, I think they'd have Terrance doing it, and in my books, he gets people killed. Look at that rescue mission. I would have had the lead a group a few days before, and deployed the opposite side of the bridge firing in to create a cross-fire to create confusion. Sure, he might have been a Sargent in the Marines. I'm only a Corporal. His word will get listened to more than mine." She takes a deep breath, and takes another handful of crackers. "We're here in Texas. I sometimes think I should strike out to Bamy. Head up into the mountains, see if my folks are still alive."

Quinton understands that. He's not military mined enough to be able to plan all that. His nose wrinkles at the mention of Terry. "..Yeah." He'll shift the topic just a little, "I think…drones…start with." Better to focus on that, then past mistakes(unless they're going to actually learn from them). His stomach turns every time he thinks of that rescue mission anyway. He's not bona argue, or point out that odds are against that. Hell, Kayla beat the odds, maybe e her folks did as well. "Wait till…warmer weather.."

Dixie shakes her head. "If we can avoid it, I think we should let the drones be if they fly over head," she remarks. "To shoot down a drone over head, it's kind of like pooping in your own bed. Not a good idea, and you make a mess at home. If one goes missing, they'll look over it's flight path, I'll bet. Then investigate it, too." She seems to have lost her interest in the Goldfish crackers, and she offers the rest of the box to Quinton. "We'd be best to shoot them down over somewhere that ain't over head." She then offers a nod. "That's the plan so far. Wait till it gets warmer, and if we're still here, I'm gone."

Quinton shakes his head, "Not…over he3ad…but hunt…" Hell, it's the only reachable targets they have that he knows of. The box is taken back and he nods about her leaving. Nothing to be said besides, "Come back?"

Dixie offers a nod of her head. "Hunt where it's not expected," she offers with a nod. "Tell them not over head. It's simply not worth it." At the question about coming back, her brow furrows. "I don't rightly know. If I find family alive, I might bring them this way. My brothers would really bolster up defences and food stocks. They're pretty good at hunting. I guess I was the lazy trapper in the family. If Pa was alive, he was better than me at everything."

Quinton's agreeing. He'd been trying to convince Sonny of that for months. That's in the past now. People may listen to Dixie. If she can manage too not insult them, that is. Another nod, "Dad…guns. Not me so much." Well, now he is, open carry even!

Dixie isn't a telepath, so she doesn't have much of an idea of Quinton agreeing apart from his body language. "It was my pa who taught me how to shoot," she admits. "I simply honed it working as range staff." She takes a deep breath and moves away. She pauses for a moment, and something seems to have caught her attention. "Porkchop, I think I'm going to slip outside for a few moments. I think there might be something moving around. Maybe fresh meat."

Quinton looks in the direction Dix is looking and then nods softly, "Ok…I'll finish in here…"He gets all the food stuffs and then some of the religious stuffs as well. It Patrick came with them, he might want it.

Dixie moves slowly and quietly towards the exit. It seems that she's on the hunt. Who knows how long she'll be out there, but she'll bring back some meat. Including a turkey. It must of been someone's pet or something.

(feel free to tag the log with character names of those involved!)

Scavenging Rolls

2 Jars of Jam / Preserves
2 Boxes Baby Cereal
2 Bibles
1 Handful of Pens
1 Choir Robes
2 Packs Communion Wafers
4 Religious Piano Music
1 Bottles of Sauce / Ketchup
2 Bags of Pasta
3 Cans of Beans
3 Religious Piano Music
2 Boxes Goldfish Crackers
1 12 Packs bottled water
2 Priest Vestments
2 Spaghetti Sauce
1 Handful of Pens
1 Bags Chips

Hunting Rolls

1 Boar
1 Turkey

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