(2015-12-17) Not An Enemy
Not An Enemy
Summary: A case of jumping to conclusions
Date: 12.17.2015
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)

Post Office

The post office of Stratford is far from impressive. It's more loading dock and back room, sorting area than it is anything else. There is a small area inside for customer service and post offices boxes, but it isn't all that big. Ironically some snarky postal employee decorated the windows with kitchy alien window clings, and space ships that look a lot like the old school Space Invaders ones. The front entrance is locked tight, vertical blinds partially closed do offer a view inside though.

Why decide to scavenge in the post office? Well why not? There is bound to be something useful within its walls.

Standing in front of the doors of the building is Piper, rifle over her shoulder, pistol on hip and strangely a pair of nun-chuks tucked in her belt. She must have been on guard duty on the perimeter this morning and has recently been relieved. The doors rattle as she gives them a shake, and then cups her hands to the door to block the glare as she peers in.

There's movement inside. At the rattle a form can be seen ducking against a counter, something in its hand that's an awful lot like some kind of weapon. Or maybe a stapler. It's fast.

Movement is one thing…furtive movement that's another beast entirely. Spotting the shadowy figure and what she imagines is a gun, Piper ducks down near the door, below the brick window casement out of sight of the person inside. This is totally unexpected and she didn't see enough of the figure to know if it is someone from camp or another like her come to try to kill them all. The rifle is slipped off a plan forming in her head.

Perhaps if Quin has having a better mind day,, but he immediately jumps to bad conclusions. He came in through the back, one of the bay doors was unlocked. He might be able to make it back. The stapler is set down quietly and he pulls his pistol out slowly. He's crouched down at a funny angle, he'll need to readjust before he make any kind of dash to get out. He certainly not going to die in a post office of all places. Outside will be better, if he has to choose. He's suddenly wishing he had one of those walkie talkies that Holden had fixed.

Using the butt of the rifle Piper slams it against the bullet resistant glass of the door. It doesn't shatter or anything, but it does leave a nice crack in the glass. Staying low and below the window, this is one of those time where shortness is an advantage, she begins to make her way to the back of the building. There is someone in there and the front doors were locked, she is smart enough to realize that whoever is in there found a back way in, so she is going to go in that way as well, and try to sneak up behind them.

Shit. Quinton assumes they're trying to break down the door. Why the fuck does everyone try to break down doors? He stays as low to the ground as he can making his way backwards towards the back. Maybe he can get out and get around before the break in. Some of what Dixie taught him sticks, and he tries to keep his breathing regulated.

Once the windows are cleared Piper stands and moves a bit more quickly toward the back, slowing as she approaches the loading area and the bay door that is open there. Hearing the motion inside and the fact that whoever is causing it is coming out the way they supposedly went in she tightens her grip on the rifle in her hand and uses the wall as cover. With her back against it, she waits for the potentially hostile to run past so she can KO them with her weapon. They have to be hostile right? A friendly would have announced themselves…of course she didn't do that either.

ok, well…the sudden quiet is almost worse. He's well aware they could be coming around the back too. But at this point it's a gamble. 50/50. So he he moving, lower than he normally stands as he quickly moves to the back bay door. he left it open right? Suddenly he's not recalling. A swallow and quick glancing around the room, whatever hidden treasure will have to be left. No new magazines for Kayla today. With the gun at the ready, out the door he goes.

Time seems to go into slow motion for the broken Silencer, she knows she is supposed to be good at this sort of thing, but so many other things are broken with her, which she is grateful for, and she really has never had the chance to test to see if her hand-to-hand skills are equally broken. As the footsteps get ever closer she waits, what seems like forever, and then they are right there and she steps out driving the muzzle of the rifle into the supposed enemies solar plexus then spinning the rifle in her hands and bringing it to slam it against their head. Thankfully she is having a great brain day and can stop the rifle just inches from making contact "Oh my god, Quinton!" she is now horrified and the gun falls from her hand, clattering to the ground.

No, Piper's melee isn't broken, although Quin is. The muzzle slams into him, knocking every bit of air out of the poet. Not that he was using it or anything. He stumbles backwards, unable to defend himself beyond raising his hands in front of himself. There's no way he's be able to aim. The slow motion doesn't start for him till he hears his name. and the gun slowly tumbles to the ground. His mouth opens, but he's unable to draw any air into his lungs to speak. Even if his brain would let him.

"I'm so sorry." Piper is at his side an arm around his waist to keep him upright "I didn't…I thought…" she certainly sounds apologetic and still horrified by her actions "I'd never intentionally…" she is upset enough that she is unable to even finish a sentence. Shutting up a moment she helps him over to the loading dock so he can sit down and catch his breath.

oh no…he's not walking. Instead Quinton slinks down to the floor, trying to find a center to focus on. It's almost a full minute before he's able to get in enough air to resemble a breath. A shaky hand reaches out for her's, but he has his eyes closed, so it's kinda just searching in the general direction she is.

Well if walking is out she will at least make that descent to the ground a controlled one and takes a piece of the ground to sit on as well. Piper situates herself so that he can lean against her, the arm still around his waist. His intake of air has her other hand going to his face a moment "Good. Breathing is good." noticing his searching hand she will drop her hand to take it instead.

It's not deep, but it's there, the breathing. His head slowly nods in agreement before his tongue darts out to lick his lips, "…yeah…" Ouch, even that sounded painful. He doesn't hold her hand tight, he's not got the energy for that. But he does hold it. "…s-sorry…"

"No." she shakes her head thinking he really has nothing to be sorry about, "Do you need anything? Water?" he's breathing and kinda talking, so Piper knows that he will be fine once he catches his breath and the pain recedes, though he may be sporting a bruise for a few days. "I'm the sorry one."

Quinton finally blinks his eyes open. Yeah…he's totally going to have a bruise. Pain mixed with embarrassment crosses his features. Why is it little Piper can completely over power him? Is he that much a wuss? "No…no water." He'll force himself to sit up, the hand not in hers moving up to gingerly touch his stomach. His head shakes again , "No…good …reflexes…" Better she's able to defend herself, right?

As he moves so does she, turning a bit so she is kneeling in front of him, worry still etched on her features and furrowing her brow. Her free hand once more goes to cup his scruffy cheek, hoping to draw his gaze to her, if it isn't already, "I surprised you. That's all." it's her story, she's sticking to it. "I'm sure ten years from now when we are telling Quinn about this it will be funny." she tries a smile, it's not funny yet of course. She's hoping the words are enough to get his mind off the injury, even if ten years is really to far off the actually contemplate, considering they are only surviving day-to-day at the moment.

Quinton's pale eyes do focus on her finally, his free hand still lightly on his stomach. He blinks, uncertain. He knew someone could be there, it really wasn't a surprise so much as he just sucks. His head shakes, causing the scruff on his cheek to rub against her hand, "…10 years.." They're not going to last ten years. Well, he's not. Not at this rate, anyway. His breathing is steady, if a bit shallow.

Piper takes the heading shaking as disagreement of him being surprised and she doesn't debate it. The evidence is pretty clear to her eyes. "You want to try and get up?" she asks instead, ready to give him an assist if he decides he is going to try.

Quinton attempts a few deeper breaths and winces, but then nods. He should move. "..yes…" It's a slow process, but they can get him standing. "This was….not best…." At least he's not swaying. And at least it's not his head!

"This was awful." Piper agrees readily, pretty much sticking to his side and acting like a little human crutch under his arm. She's there to support in getting up and staying up should it be needed "I'm really sorry." she says again contrite in both tone an expression, if not a little distressed. She looks up at him, searching his face.

There's embarrassment and pain, but no anger in his face. He uses her hand to stand up, but doesn't seem to need it once he's on both feet. Although he's not tried walking just yet. "It's ok…didn't mean it…" Well, didn't mean it to be him. He gets that. He'll force a tiny smile at her.

If there is a good side to this at least it has shown Piper has grown past her shoot first ideology. Otherwise it would be bullet wound Quinton and not out of breath Quinton. Neither coming to stores near you. "I didn't." she nods adamantly "There would have been a different welcome instead of a rifle to the stomach." she's going to feel bad for days for this one.

Quinton's smile turns into a soft smirk, "…never…piss you off…" He attempts a deeper breath, feeling the need for more oxygen. He winces again, but gets it. "I…sit down…think." He'll start to slowly make his way towards a bench. He's going to just hide this from Kayla, she's been pissy enough with him about going out without her.

She will nod, sitting is good, adrenaline will only get you so far and when it crashes, well it can leave you a bit ughish "Did you leave your pack inside?" she has to assume so, she rarely ever sees him out and about without it. "I'll get it." once he is settled on bench, her fingers move gently across the back of his neck in that familiar caress before she runs back to the post office to get his pack and their dropped weapons.

When she leans he'll lean back against the wall, wincing and rubbing the already forming bruise. He's surprised she didn't crack any of his ribs too. They're definitely sore. He'll stay that way, trying to calm down everything while she's gone.

It takes a few minutes for her to find the backpack, and hey look a couple of packages sit near it so she grabs those too. On her way out his pistol and her rifle are grabbed and she brings it all back to where he sits. The pistol is handed over, grip first and the pack is set at is feet "Grabbed these. They were near your stuff." she didn't do any searching or anything. She hands him the bigger of the boxes. Bigger is better? And the next few minutes are spent discovering what surprise waits inside.

Scavenging Rolls

1 Package - Book - Biography
1 Package - Scented Jar Candles (3)

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License