(2015-11-20) Unclear communication
Unclear Communication
Summary: Isabeau encounters Piper, and the two attempt to communicate with moderate sucess.
Date: Nov 20 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:
isabeau..pied-piper..

Afternoon has peaked and despite the overcast skies it is warm enough were coats are needed. The panhandle of Texas is weird that way, warm in the day and quite cold in the night. Guess it's that grasslands meets sorta desert kind of thing.

Leaving the apartment complex where one of the Stratford groups resides is the quiet and always barefoot Piper. She carries the little newborn in his snugging, peacefully sleeping, while she pulls a wagon with a collection of candles and other small jars of some white stuff in it. Perhaps a salve or ointment of some kind.

It's a rare thing to see Isa without a horse in tow, but today seems to. She watches warily from underneath the wide brim of her hat, moss green eyes ever alert and wary. There's a rucksack over one shoulder and her rifel over the other. A holstered pistol on her hip. As the path winds her in the general direction of the Strathford apartments she notices the woman who was introduced as Phoenix the other day, and there is a nudge to the brim of her hat in greeting.

Isabeau isn't the only wary one. When Piper notices the woman heading toward the apartments and basically toward her she pauses, her eyes darting around as if looking for escape routes. She's fine with strangers when others are around, but not so much on a one-to-one basis. At the nod from Isa a tentative wave is given though her expression remains wary.

The wave is treated with a wary smile, and a polite, "It's Phoenix right?" Trying to be polite at least, both hands go into her pockets, to ward off the cold. "Was poking around trying to figure out if joining you folks would be a good idea or not." Explaining her presence near the apartments perhaps. The wagon is noted and there's a lift of one shoulder, "Looks like you found some stuff that was useful at least." It's an attempt at friendly conversation.

The woman makes a face and gives a shake of her head. "Piper." she replies putting a hand on her chest above where the baby is "Piper." yes she speaks, just infrequently, her tone is silvery, gentle, but doesn't really have a discernible accent, so she could be from anywhere. A nod of her head and she reaches for one of if small jars with the salve in it and hands it over, "…make it." she jiggles the jar a bit to make it clear she is talking about the stuff inside it.

There is a quiet and pensive study of Piper, the baby and the jars. Isa touches her throat first, and then her ear. "Does it hurt for you to speak? Or is it hard to hear?" Careful but not the least bit patronizing in her tone and enunciation. For the jars, there is a smile, "What is it, exactly?"

Piper shifts uncomfortably at the questions, but she shakes her head "No." and she doesn't give any further explanation to her speech issues. How does one explain tramua induced selective mutism without using multi-syllable words. The contents of the jar is easy though. She removes the cap, rubs her fingers into the surface of the ointment and then massages it into her bicep. A liniment for muscle aches perhaps.

The fact that there is nothing wrong with the woman's hearing seems to be enough, since the pace of Isa's speech slips back to normal, no longer worried about lip reading being the way information is passed on. Whatever other puzzles are inherent, seem to remain that for the moment, puzzles. "Ah, Medicine then." Those moss green eyes, still peering about and studying the surrounding area.

The jar is recapped and held out once more. Piper must have she same opinion as the man she was with the other day, that survivors have to help each other. As for it being medicine she hand wobbles, "You…" she gestures to the apartment complex her expression conveying she is asking a question.

"I don't have anything to trade," Isa notes a little flustered by the sudden gesture of kindness, and even more so by the question. "Have to figure out the horses first. They can't exactly live in an apartment building." Still, the way her glance might linger could suggest that more and more she's considering it. "You aren't afraid I'll go crazy or bring trouble to your door step?"

Piper shrugs about not having anything to trade, "You…" her brows furrow as she tries to get a sentence out but ends up just shaking her head and making shooting motions with pistol fingers. "We have…." she sighs and sets down the jar to pull her memo pad and stubby pencil "We have horses and other animals." she begins to write in a neat print "We keep them nearby." she holds out the crinkly pad to be read. Well, she writes her thoughts better than she speaks them, so she isn't simpleminded at least.

The shooting motions might possibly draw some confusion, "I've got another shotgun, but I'd rather not part with my weapons if I can help it." There is an obvious relief when the woman writes out her thoughts. Isa takes it and reads it a few times before handing it back. "Where? Do you mind if I take a look?" There's also a look given Piper, a mental note of sorts perhaps.

The woman tilts her head at Isabeau, confused as well by her comment before she realizes the misunderstanding and then shakes her head to indicated that isn't what she meant but who knows if that will be understood. "There." Piper points to Pine Street just a block up the road. Pine only goes one direction so she doesn't bother pointing out that. There is only one place fit to hold animals on Pine, and that's the petting zoo.

Isabeau nods, finally accepting the jar if that's what the woman intended. This whole non-verbal thing takes some practice. Dark green eyes focus in the direction the young woman indicates, and gives a nod, with a tip of her hat. "Thank you, Piper." She offers before heading off, presumably to explore in that direction.

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