(2015-12-24) The Exchange
The Exchange
Summary: Presents!
Date: 12.24.2015
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)

233 1st Street

Of the houses in the town this one is a bit of an anomaly. Not there aren't any victorian style houses in town, there just aren't that many and all are located in this little neighborhood.

Once through the small foyer with it's stairway going up, the living room immediately greets you with it's more 1980s inspired furnishings, electronics and decor. And so many snowglobes! They are all over.

Beyond the living room is an outdated eat-in kitchen, a few dishes still in the sink, along with a pool of stagnant water causing the stainless steel to rust. More pictures and magnets cover the fridge. Heading to the left past the kitchen is a dining room and more snowglobes and the dining room table is laid out with a forgotten sewing project.

Up the stairs are three bedrooms, one seems to have been the domain of someone who loved handicrafts, the other is a guest room, the third the bedroom, probably of an elderly couple.

After an unusual night's sleep, shared on the sofa in the clubhouse (and warm and peaceful also making it unusual…so unusual in good ways!) at least for Piper…and after the usual morning rigormorole of getting the children feed and under the care of Mama Bea. It was out to scavenge or wander around or what have you. There hasn't been much done down this street, except the bakery. But that isn't the place that Piper heads too, it's to a once vibrantly painted victorian house several doors down, but time has taken its toil and the paint has faded and is chipping and peeling in places. "It's cute." she says of the house as she climbs up the steps and eyes the various archetiecual elements that decorate the covered porch "To bad it wasn't kept up." she would totally want to live in it if it had been.

Quinton slept well as well, the warm Piper against him brought out kind dreams. He lets Piper lead, her gift clumsily wrapped at the bottom of his back pack. "Like…gingerbread house…." He's in a great mood, smiling, just not able to articulate it all that well. He does step up first, peeking through windows to check. Nothing will ruin day faster than finding a dead body.

"Yes." Piper agrees with the comparison after taking a moment to look at the decorative accents that are tastefully decorate the mauve shutters and crème colored column spanners "Only I wouldn't want to eat this house." she offers him a smile before letting Quinton do the check through the window. Her own pack hangs lower than usual, since it isn't as empty as the usually is, but that isn't totally unusual for her. "Anything?" she glances into the window and then up at him.

"No witch." Which is also a good thing. Quin nods softly, "…good…" The front door is jiggled and comes up locked, so he makes his way around the back. It takes him longer than usually, not just a back door open before he can be heard walking through the house. When the front door opens, his hair is messed up, having had to crawl through a window. She gets a grin though, and he flourishes his hand in welcome to her.

Well there is that too, being stuffed in an oven could make for a bad day as well. Piper seems amused by the comment, she gets it and gives a laugh "True…though we don't know who lived here…" she grins though at her jest. As he travels around and through the house patience is had as she continues to check out the architecture. When she hears the locks being thrown though she is at the door, her eyes going to his hair, "Problems?" she asks as she will take the hand and head into the house, through the small foyer, only a few steps really, she stops in the archway of the living room her eyes widening at the sight. "Wow…."

Gah, please don't let it be a cannibal's house! Quin shoots her an amused, but not look before he leaves. Quin has no idea what's wrong with his hair, so he just shakes his head. No problems it seems. Well, none that he couldn't crawl through, anyway. His backpack in on one shoulder though, he probably had to take it off to get through the window. He smiles, her hand gets a soft squeeze as the enter more into the house and he just nods in agreement.

"I've never seen this many snowglobes outside that tourist shop on 42nd street." Piper is probably talking about some place in Manhattan. Lots of tourist shops catering to those coming out of Grand Central "And look," she moves to the curio cabinet "There is a New York one." Statue of Liberty of course. It's a lot better quality than those typically found though. Maybe from a museum gift shop or something. "You want to search up and I'll search around this floor?"

Quinton snorts, amused. He thinks he know sphere Piper's talking about. He steps up, looking at the new York Snow globe, his hand doesn't let go of her’s, in fact it tightens slightly. He misses his old life, even if he likes some of the new even better. "yeah." No movement to let go or start in any direction. Instead he swivels to look down at her. "…happy?"

Piper could understand that whole bittersweetness of before and after and could be feeling a bit of that herself as she studies the snowglobe. This is about the only way she will be able to see that particular monument again. Her thumb brushes against the side of this hand at the slight tensing. At his answer she begins to step away but pauses, the question surprising her "I am." at least today she is, she looks back up at him a tad bit confused as to where this is coming from "Aren't you?" she thought he was, but now she isn't quite sure.

Quinton quirks a grin, bending down to brush his lips against hers. A soft "yes" is answered. "Want….present?….later?"

This time the kiss gets a much better reaction than the first time he tried that. There are no waterworks, no flinching and considering its briefness, no trembling either, it's even softly returned. Her eyes search is face for a moment at his answer and for the moment she believes him "We can do that now." none of the stuff in the house is going anywhere. She goes to move to the way out of date sofa so they can sit.

Quinton seems happy with her reaction. No tears is always good. So he smiles ,a nd then follows almost obediently. The backpack is slung off the one shoulder and set on the ground before he sits, still holding her hand.

Sitting on the edge of the floral sofa Piper angles herself to face him, close enough that knees are most likely touching. "Did you want to go first? Or I can." she slips one of the straps off her shoulder, removing it completely though will have to wait until she gets her hand back, which she is not really in a rush to do yet.

Quinton's jaw works and then he'll pull out a box that's clearly been man wrapped. There's been a badly attempted bow onto. Looking at it Quin smacks himself mentally for not just having Kayla wrap it. He's suddenly nervous as he hands it over. It's oddly weighted, but doesn't feel like it's got loose parts. Her hand is free, but only for a moment as it's replaced with the median sized box. He doesn't say anything, but does offer her a smile, which is laced with nerves.

It only takes a few moments to shrug the rest of the way out of her pack. By the time the wrapped gift is being put in her hands it is on the floor, partially unzipped for ease of access. She can't help but smile at the poor gift wrapping job and she places the gift in her lap and begins to unwrap it, somewhat carefully, but not meticulously so. A glance or to is given to him as she does so, a reassuring smile given one of the times.

Quinton's chewing on his lower lip, although he's willing himself to not show anything beyond that. Which is showing. or maybe Piper just knows him. Eitehr way, his pale eyes are watching her. The gift, when unwrapped is a small jewelry music box, the kind that is wound up to play. a tiny tower on a sting pops up when opened and spins around. It's not fancy, but the music plays fairly smooth and isn't too tinny. There's a folded piece of paper inside, which seems to be the worse of his nerves.

Eyes widen as the box is removed. This isn't at all what she expected…Piper wasn't sure exactly what to expect really, but this clearly wasn't it. As she lifts the lid to peer inside she feels the key on the underside and takes a moment to turn it. As the music starts to play she smiles "Ravel's Bolero." of course she would recognize it. Then she notices the paper and looks from it to Quinton, then back as she picks it up and reads the page.

It's a poem, typed up on plain white paper, centered.

'Lost in the waves, curls crashing in my mind
There is no coming back, lost in the sea of your hair
No Lighthouse to warn of the rock shore
A sailors prayer to guide me
My north star'

As soon as she starts reading, Quin's eyes drop. This was a bad idea.

The page is stared at, dark eyes roving the typed words on the page, several times. Piper finally lifts her eyes, only to find him looking down, worriedly. The page is carefully set back into the jewelry box as she music winds down and she reaches out to take his hands "It's beautiful." a lot better than her poor attempts in that journal she gave him, though the short instrumental song in the book is a lot better than her poetry, and for guitar. There could be a glimmer of tears in her eyes, but not the bad kind…hopefully. She isn't quite sure what to say other wise besides the usual "Thank you." so she takes one hand back to pull out a somewhat better wrapped gift and sets it in his lap, "Your turn."

Quinton's not looked at it, as he promised her he wouldn't. He looks up, watching her. A small nod and he looks down at the better present in his lap before unwrapping it.

Now it's Piper's turn to look a bit nervous. Experience tells her that she is hit and miss when it comes to gift giving, and with this Christmas being a pivotal one, this could make it or break it…or at least crack it a bit. Hopefully she will get bonus points for the fact that the fingerless mittens…armwarmers…whatever they are, they're handmade, either knitted or crocheted inexpertly, but pretty good for a beginner. They clearly go over the hands, there is a thumb hole…or at least it can be assumed that's what that hole is for since it is on both at the same spot. Under those is a thin volume of poetry, a few small bags of chips and a pack of brand new guitar strings.

Quinton immediately touches the knitted whatever that are, feeling the pattern. His head tilts looking up at her slightly confused but then he'll ask, "…you?" Maybe he's more observant than he lets on? Did She make these? His lips quirk at the chips, he's such a junkie, but the hover at the poetry again. Again he'll ask softly, "You?" The guitar strings get another smirk, "Sound better?" Like maybe it'll make him? He'll lean forward and kiss her again, letting the length be up to her.

The armwarmers are supposed to be a herringbone pattern. It's easy to tell on one end than the other as during the process she gradually improved..which also means one is better looking than the other as well "I crocheted them yes." Piper nods, "It'll be awhile before I am ready to tackle a sweater." she'll probably get there, but it won't be right away "No. Robert Frost. The journal though..yes." she'll toss that reminder out there in case he needs it. A grin at his joke, but she is saved from comment by his lips on hers and a hand goes to the side of his neck. It's Christmas Eve, it's a wonderful day…scavenging can wait.

Scavenging Rolls

1 Cardigan Sweater
1 Cans of Fruit
1 Intro to Crochet Kit
1 Matchbox Cars
2 Scented Jar Candles
1 1/2 Bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide
1 Religous Hymnal
2 Skirts
1 Bottles of Red Wine
1 Hurricane Oil Lamps
1 Box of Legos

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