(2015-11-23) Cleaning Up
Cleaning Up
Summary: Quinton is cleaning out the petting zoo, Piper stop and helps
Date: 11.23.2015
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)

At least it's not a cold rain. At least, that's what Quin keeps telling himself as he pokes about the petting zoo. He's mostly just trying to get a feel of the place, to determine what to start on first, andf where's the beast place for disposal of the bodies he's surely going to find. Today he's to on one of his sweater vests and the fedora he found. It's a rather…hipster look, even if he's not trying for it. Esepcailly with the beard. He's humming something underneath his breath, not having been around anyone today to be able to really tell if he's having a talkative day or not.

Piper has been pretty scarce herself today. Mostly because this morning her and Kayla went out to do some scavenging. At some point the two women separated, because she is wandering past the petting zoo alone, her pack full of the mornings efforts, a good counterweight to the baby on her front, who once more seems to be having a happy day as he burbles and waves the braid clutched tightly in his hand. Seeing Quinton wandering the zoo gives her a bit of a shock. Him being there is unexpected, so she watches him a few moments before heading in his direction.

Quinton's has his holster on, but his signature backpack has been left in one of the cleaner rooms. Currently he's dragging out a small wheel barrel that was most likely used for food that will be the temporary herse for some of the dead critters that starved to death. At least they will be light? He stops a moment to stitch his back, a hand going to the base of it. It's never full recovered from that fall, but he tries to not complain too much. What good will it do?

The woman notes the motion to his back. Piper is familiar with that one, she did it a lot during the last few months of her pregnancy. She'll have to remember to get him more of the muscle salva later today. "Hey." she greets offering a hint of a smile to him "What's with…" she gestures around the area and the wheelbarrow.

As soon as any voice is heard his hand drops. No need to worry any one. He smiles over at her as he turns, " New girl…vet. Thought….for …" Ouch, well, that answers the question of if he's having a good talking day. He motions to the stalls and then himself, "Clear out.." He knows that dead bodies, even critters, isn't most peoples ideas of a nice day. So he volunteered.

Well it's enough to piece together what he is doing here, but not why Quinton got stuck with such an arduous task alone. "Short straw?" Piper's brows lift quizzically, "Want help?" she might not be able to do any heavy lifting with the baby but she can push a broom or rake easily enough…or just stick around for moral support.

Quinton snorts, an amused noise, "No…offered." He's not making detract eye contact, but she knows him well enough to pick up on the undertone of guilt he gets some times. His nose wrinkles and he looks off towards one of the stalls that has-had ponies. "No…touching… with…Quinn." That's all he'd need, to be the cause Quinn gets sick.

No surprise there. The tone does have Piper curious as to what needless thing he is feeling bad about this time, "Big job." she tells him, not questioning the quilt since he isn't speaking well today, "Got it." she nods to him "No touchies." at least not of dead things or heavy things. She heads toward the rack that holds yard tools to grab a rake. Plenty of dried, dead leaves to take care of on the walking paths and corrals. "You may want…" she holds a hand over her nose and mouth, probably suggesting he cover them before he really gets into the hard work.

There's a nod, "Yeah…needs to be done…" He grabs the wheel barrel again and starts to pouch it. It's not pushing straight, so this will be a struggle. He looks back to see what she's suggesting and nods again, stopping to pull out a faded handkerchief. He'll add that last. It makes him feel like he's being smothered, so he stalls. "Any good?" He'll point briefly at her backpack.

The rake is removed and leaned against the wall so Piper can shrug out of her pack. She glances back at him when he questions and can't help but laugh at his hipster, meets Indiana Jones, meets western bandit look. A hand comes up to cover her mouth. There is a nod then and she hangs the pack on the hook the rake was on and she begins to dig through it, "Candles, rice, chips, some socks, water," she pulls the two bottles out and sets them aside. They will probably need them after a bit of work "and…" a folded bundle comes out, she doesn't unfold it, but from its bulk and texture it looks like a sweater. It's been awhile since she found one that was worth keeping and she holds the folded article of clothing for him to see before tucking it at the top of her bag, "Yours." she says as if that was actually ever in question. So yes a decent haul today.

Quinton freezes, unsure why she's laughing, but glad she's doing it. His eyes widen when he sees the knitted gold and he takes a small step forward. But then she's putting it away and he frowns briefly before nodding, "…thanks…"

Of course she isn't going to give him the sweater now it will just get dirty, "Don't want it all gross." Piper tells him when she sees him step forward. As it is he might have to burn the sweater he is wearing after all this is done. The woman isn't a cleaning mircle worker, and can't save them all. "Course." not that she needs or wants thanks. She's still smiling, though her laughter is under control. She looks like she is about to say something else, but then shakes her head and looks around with rake in hand trying to decide where to start.

Like the crack head of sweaters he is, he looks like he may argue but then nods, he's shoulders slumping in defeat. Starting back towards the wheel barrel he looks over his shoulder at the happy Piper, "What's….you're…" He flashes a small smile, not able to get the rest out.

Piper decides to just start at the entrance of the barn, though she is going to have to decide where to pile all the leaves up eventually. There is an understanding look given and his dejected expression but she stands firm on this one. She takes a moment to pry her braid out of the baby's hand and flips it over her shoulder. She tilts her head at the question. It takes her a few moments to figure out what he is asking "The laughing?" she questions but answers him as if that is it, "Hipster Bandit Jones." she gestures to him.

Quinton frowns, but any seriousness is lost when he glances up at his hat. He looks like a cartoon. A sigh can be heard and he just shakes his head, turning back to move towards the deceased ponies. At least the place is aired out mostly, no gagging.

"It's fine." she says to him, it was amusing, she laughed. There are no fashion police ready to spring out of the woodwork, so nothing to worry about. When he turns to deal with the carcasses Piper gets to raking the path, picking up the tune he was humming when she walked up on him.

Quinton's quiet for some time. He attempts, although it's a poor one, to block the view as he's moving what's left of the ponies outside to the fire pit. The light rain is making it difficult to burn the bodies, but it's at least in a palace to burn when it gets dryer. Once that and a few more stalls are done he stops to take a break. Somehow in the moving he's ended up with a chicken feather stuck on the shoulder of his sweater. poor sweater.

He doesn't want her to see the dead ponies just as much as she doesn't want to see them, so betwen his poor efforts and her focusing on her raking everytime he passes, mission accomplished. She does notice that he is ready for a break and she leans the rake against a fence and goes to join him, grabbing the waters with a wince as she does. Her musician hands probably blistered from the rake handle.

Quinton's hat is taken off and he wipes his forehead with his forearm. The water is taken with a grateful nod and he unscrews it and drinks deeply. The wall ends up supporting him as he leans and closes his eyes briefly before opening them and asking, "..ok?"

Taking a long pull from the water as well, but not so tired she has to lean, Piper nods at him. He's was just dusty work but not strenous, "Never raked." she holds out a hand to show him the small blisters. The one at the base of her thumb the worst of them "You have a clean cloth?"

Quinton inhales, frowning, "Shit…Nellie…." He's already moving towards his backpack where the towels are. "No…more.." Is that an order or is he pleading? Again that weird underlying tone of guilt is there.

That was a bad one, didn't even get the first letter write this time. She chalks it up to exhaustion and having to deal with the pony remains. That's enough to make anyone discombobulated "Raking?" she's not sure what he is meaning in this case, though the tone is clear to her "What is it?"

The towel is brought back and he examines her hand again with a frown, "No…raking." At least, not when he's around. His hands are gentle though, and if she allows he'll pour a little of the water onto the towel and then her hands. He just shakes his head again, upset, but doesn't clarify.

Tucking her own water into the snuggie she lets Quinton deal with her hands. The cool water feels good at least. "Can get gloves." Piper glances around, there is bound to be a pair around here somewhere. Since he has clammed up and she knows that getting anything was pretty much a crapshoot even before she asked, she does the only thing she can "Not your fault." she is sure that's the case and she tries to make eye contact as she says it. In her mind he is always taking blame where he shouldn't..or more than he should in other cases.

Quinton doesn't make eye contact, in fact the poet darts his eyes away when she tries, "Yes." So there. He takes a deep breath and brings his eyes back to her hands, where he's patting them lightly, trying to sooth them some, "You…stopped…me…here." Huh? Even he knows that's scattered.

Strangely she is more confused by the yes, than anything that comes after it. Piper isn't sure whether he is agreeing with her or saying it is his fault. A windmill she will have to tilt at later "I saw you, I stopped, yes. Problem?" she cants her head at him.

Quinton huffs, frowning at her hands. Like that is somehow explaining what he means. "…hurt…now." His hands stay gentle though, an off juxtapose with the frowny face. "Need….not.."

"Just blisters, fine tomorrow." Piper grins up at him "Blame the rake." or her even, she volunteered to do the raking, "Stupid rake." levity, she gives it a try, if only to get him to stop frowning like that. "We should get to work." she can find something else to do, that won't get her blisters or hurt anymore.

Quinton's pale eyes flicker up, and his frown lessens but doesn't disappear. He can't stop her from helping, but does find the least harmful things she can do. His lack of talking isn't helping his frustration today. He huffs a lot, but at least in his frustration he's able to clear out the dead bodies from the zoo.

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