(2015-11-24) Stay
Summary: Isabeau's leaving, Terry manages to talk her out of it. Crazy's in the water all around.
Date: 24 Nov 2015
Related: The 5th Wave

Isabeau hadn't been at the trading meet, she hadn't even been in Stratford, technically. The National grasslands were a good place to graze the horses until she figured out the feed situation, and that is where she was for the majority of the day. At least until she returned to a warzone. The saddle bags are arrayed around the small living room. Her vet kit sitting open on the table, along with her guns. She's rolling up a pair of Terry's sweats (the ones she always sleeps in) and starting to stuff them into one of the packs. Her expression is a grim one, brows furrowed, mouth pursed to a thinner line.

There's a knock at the door to apartment A10, followed by the door opening. "Knock knock.." Terry says, walking right on in. He takes a few seconds to process the scene before him. "Is everything alright?" There's a note of genuine concern on his face, and in his voice, readable even through the (putting it lightly) mild road rash. He's self-stitched a few minor wounds, but the rest of the damage will just have to heal on its own. The rest of the medical gear is needed elsewhere.

Moss green eyes widen, at the sound and Isa stops and stares at him. A flicker of various emotions rushes over her expression, to quick to identify. "It's time to go." Her usually rich alto high and thready as she stuffs the pair of pants into the bag anyway, walking over to the counter and checking her ammo. "Isn't safe to stay here, looks like you saw first hand whatever the fuck happened on East Main." It isn't a question though it carries the air of one, expectant.

"Yeah, but we survived.. Don't worry about it. Lean on me. As long as I draw breath, and walk this earth, I will not allow harm to come to you." Terry responds, visibly concerned. "Besides, what about everyone you've met so far? Bob, Piper, Quinton.. You've got people you can rely on right here. If you need help, ask for it. There's no shame in that."

"Survived." Isabeau perches on the counter and starts loading magazines. "Then all of you should leave too. I don't rightly know what happened but if the enemy has already found you here then your fucked." Her hands shake ever so faintly as she slides the bullets into their slots along the ammo belt. "I am done losing people Terry, and I sure as hell don't plan on dying in this town." Pushing another shell into it's spot.

"Outside of Finn, these guys are the only family I have left. I can't leave them… but I don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to you. I.. I like you, Izzy. Like-like. I can't put my finger on it, but… it's there. I will do everything in my power to protect you.. but this is our home. We've got everything here.." Terry continues, trying to think of how best to put his words. "I don't want to lose you."

Oh. Snap. The shell she had been fitting into the belt hits the ground and big green eyes seem all the wider at the last confession. Deer in the headlights. "That's…. nice?" It isn't likely what she meant to say, to the words like, and probably the last thing anybody wants to hear after making a confession but, there it is. "Terry you guys have only been in this place what, a few weeks? You've known me what, a few days?" She's trying to wrap her head around all of it, and failing. "You don't think they'll send drones to gloat on how efficient their handiwork was? Maybe it won't be today, maybe it won't be tomorrow, but fuck if you don't run now, your death will find you."

"I've taken out drones with my gun before. Besides, the more drones we take out, the more power cores we can secure, the longer we can hole up. We can make a stand, kick some E.T. ass, bring the fight to them, and send them packing…" Terry explains. "We just need to dig in, fortify our position, and survive. We can do this."

Isabeau blinks at him. "The more fucking drones you take down the more attention you draw, the more attention you draw the more you paint a fucking target on your head." This isn't like kicking the rat, her voice carries some real heat to it. "We aren't fucking prepared to fight a siege here, look around you, soldier boy. Water has to be pumped from a well or dredged from a lake, your food stores rely totally on whatever you are able to hunt, you don't have a source of transportation that doesn't rely on batteries, I've not seen so much as a smoke hut to preserve meat for the winter, and let's not forget about the fact that a fire sends a great big, 'look here, easy target' message. I mean… the fuck. Do you think that these things happen on fairy dust?!"

"Izzy, please, listen. Give it a few days.. we can get supplies together, and really dig in. Once we're dug in, and the place is defended, we can start going on the offensive. But first.." He holds up a bloodied, debris-studded hand, and points to various parts on his body. "D'you mind helping me out?"

"Terry, there is no offens-" She starts to counter, but as he holds up the hand she exhales the rest of the breath through her teeth, "I suppose your close enough to a puppy." Though the barb lacks any real venom as she walks over to grab a few things from her kit and points for him to sit like a good boy. "What actually happened," She asks, distracted enough for the moment from her plans of leaving. Gesturing for the hand.

Terry offers the hand over for inspection. "So, we'd decided we were going out to trade with the Reyes folks earlier today. It was a bit of a chore getting them to come out.. they've been pretty reclusive, all things considered. Folks gathered up whatever they could think to bring with them, and we headed off. I was all Rambo'd up, figuring I could hang back and keep an eye on things. As we headed up Main Street, two of the more vocal Reyes folks — Anita and Lorenzo, I think? — came running up; Lorenzo was panicked, Anita just had this look of concern. Quinton, Eli and Kayla spoke with the two, and I headed off to take up a perch. I caught bits and pieces of the conversation.. a little girl, don't know where she came from, needed a doctor for her throat. Lorenzo and Anita started to lead us to the girl.. one, two, three blocks.. and then *boom*. An explosion, shockwave, something. Knocked everybody senseless. Windows exploded.." A nod is offered to the hand. "It was bad. Quinton got whiplash, cracked upside the head from his fall. Eli looked like somebody shoved hot fire-pokers into his eardrums. The condos and neighborhood.. were gone. No fire, no smoke.. just a big crater."

Tweezers in hand, she starts picking out the debris, dumping the shrapnel into a tin cup, each making a little dinging sound as it lands. "A little - girl?" Isabeau murmurs in confusion, " There's a slow nod, "I saw, as I was leading the horses back from the grasslands. I thought…" Well, she was packing and didn't seem to think anything of stealing his sweat pants. There might just be a soft touch of relief. She shakes her head then, "And you really think sticking around when they can level entire neighborhoods is the best plan?" There is a frown and a purse of her lips as she tugs another shard free with a steady hand.

"Would you rather we just keep running? I mean, if we just keep running every time they vaporize a place, soon there'll be nowhere else to run.. what then? If we take the fight to them, if we make a stand here and now.." Terry's words are punctuated by periodic twitches as the shards are removed. It's like being stabbed, except in reverse. Just as painful coming out as it was going in.

Isa bites off whatever reply she might have had at that. a slightly strong yank on the next bit. "I don't know," She answers at last, sounding somewhat defeated. Taking the iodine and pouring it over the newly cleaned wounds. disinfecting. "You take the bed tonight." She decides to pull out a bit of clean gauze to bandage with. "I'll talk to Bob in the morning and figure out what the plan is. Now more than ever it's important to figure out a method of transport that doesn't rely on those batteries."

Terry twitches briefly at the sudden yank, and the tingly-burny-not-normal feeling of the iodine cleansing his wounds almost makes him go cross-eyed. He'd probably cross his toes if he could. "Are you sure? I don't mind crashing on the couch." And then a nod. "…Yeah, we should. I guess I'd better get cracking on improving my horsemanship, yeah?"

Isabeau arches a brow at him. "I'm sure. Easier escape route." Is she joking? So deadpan is her delivery. "Yeah, you better. Unless you want to ride bitch on a wagon if I ever find one." Two jokes she's on a roll. "Everyone's mostly whole, though, on our side of things?"

Terry nods. "Aside for some scrapes, bruises, and singed eyebrows, yeah. We'll all live to see another day. We were lucky."

Isabeau nods, lips pursed in thought. "Yeah, I'll see the old sheriff in the morning then, and probably need to figure out this whole… living arrangement situation. while at it." She frowns again, nose wrinkling at the thought. "I - you -" She stops, shakes her head. "Not that you haven't been a perfect gentleman and then some." She shakes her head. Enough said in her opinion since she's sanitizing her tools and tucking them back into the kit, rolling up the kit and tucking it into a saddlebag, and grabbing a large blanket to claim an edge of the couch with a candle and a book. "You should probably get checked over by a human doctor when things settle down a bit."

Another nod. "I'll get checked over once things settle a bit, yeah." Terry agrees. "And whether you choose to remain here, or find your own lodgings, doesn't change that I'll still be cooking meals for two.. or more. I do delivery." He quips, with a laugh.

Isabeau smiles despite herself, "Maybe I'll find an old sheep wagon like the people I traveled with before had." There's a quiet as she decides not to light the candle, curling up on one end of the couch. "Go, sleep, there's work to do in the morning."

Terry nods. "Roger that.. G'night, Izzy." He heads off to rack out. He just kinda climbs into bed and crashes, clothes and all.
(feel free to tag the log with character names of those involved!)

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