(2016-02-09) Lost, Found and Fight
Lost, Found and Fight
Summary: A locked footlocker liberated from the Camo Kids is relocated. Bob confronts Kayla about killing a raider. They never did find out what was in that chest.
Date: 2.9.2016
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:
bob..kayla..quinton..

Upstairs - Bldg A

Besides the ones that face the street, all the apartments on the second floor is used to store stuff. Anything that is brought in that isn't used immediately is brought here to be stored. Food, clothes, housewares, cleaning…etc. Some of the stuff here was brought from the previous camp but most of it has been found since moving to Stratford.


It's clear there was some organization at first in the areas that were designated for storage. It seems that at some point though the method of put it where it fits though has become the norm. This means that nothing is easy to find or get too. Since it is has been rainy all day a few people have taken it upon themselves to correct that problem. It's later in the afternoon and after being at it most of the day it's nearly a complete task. With a few exceptions. There are is a crate of ammo that got stored her instead of with the weapons, as well as some misc. firearms and there is a mystery heavy duty Pelican case, footlocker size, securely padlocked. Stenciled across the top, Property of U.S.Army. It might be recognizable to those who were part of the group that stole the truck from the Camo Kids. It was one of the things in the back of the truck.

Quinton decided it would be better to help out than get soaked again. An afternoon of dry would be nice. Not that he's 100 percent for lifting stuff yet, so he's doing a lot more note taking than lifting, but he's helping. And he's lifting if needed. "Call off…" The pencil wiggles in his hand briefly as he waits to write things down.

Kayla has spent the afternoon helping, and her hair is a mess and clothes dusty from the work…but that's not too much an unusual thing. As things wind down, she takes a seat on the footlocker sized case, and wipes her brow.

Items are called off as they are found and sorted so Quin can take an accurate inventory of everything. Canned foods are put with canned foods, housewares with that stuff…etc and each given a separate room so things can be found easier. "I think we are about done." one of the worker's says "The only we need to do is get the weapons and ammo to there area and figure out what's in this thing." the gives the case Kayla sits on a nudge with his foot.

Quinton nods, jotting everything down. His stomach has been tender lately, so his one free hand is pressed against it. Pale eyes flitter from the ammo and weapons to his sister, "Kayla…maybe find…another seat…" Just in case.

"If it's bad, and it goes off, being here or on a chair won't matter." Kayla points out with a smirk as she pats the box beneath her. But she stands anyways.

Bob was one of the few who wasn't inside, despite the rains. He was out on patrol, with a rain slicker on over his standard fare clothing. When his relief came, Bob was quick to get inside and move off towards where the rest of the work is being done today: The storage areas. He approaches the apartment with his rain slicker still on, dripping water behind him. His boots squish with each step as he soaked through. Still, he seems to be in good enough spirits. Maybe he finds the rain invigorating, or he's just happy to be out of it now.

The comments from the Wells siblings have the guy looking between the pair "I doubt it's anything like. Probably just more ammo or guns best case, worst case MRE's, though why those would be locked up…" he gives a shrug.

Quinton doesn't really care what it is, just that it's not underneath his sister's ass. Although…the poet turns back to look at the box, "Can….we open it?" Maybe it's a blow up the space ship gun. Wouldn't that be nice?

Kayla turns back to the box now that she's standing, and moves to kneel in front of it so she can study the lock. "Maybe…i dunno. I'm not a locksmith, but…" Nibbling her lower lip, she considers the challenge.

"How about we not touch the locked crate that might be booby trapped until we get someone who knows a bit about explosives to take a look, eh?" Bob interjects as he stops into the apartment. Always spoiling everyone's fun, that's what he does. The camp's leader moves further into the room and takes a look about to assess the state of organization and gives an appraising nod.

"Who in the group knows about that sort of thing?" random NPC who we will call Clark asks. He's pretty sure the others are being a bit paranoid about the thing being all explodey.

Quinton just shrugs, he's got no skills in that.

Kayla isn't too worried, and actually pouts a bit as she turns to look at Bob. "He is probably right, its just MREs or something.' she points out lightly. "Let's at least see if we can pick the lock…"

"No." Bob states firmly. He eyes Kayla. There's a bit more anger there than is necessary for this particular issue. He's probably still annoyed that she shot that raider when he wasn't actually attacking them. Bob frowns on killing for no reason, even in these dark times, it's the cop in him. "Because if you're wrong, you might blow us all up. I ain't riskin' that on your say so."

"You want me to go see if anyone knows any of that stuff?" Clark asks warily after Bob's bit of temper "One of the miliary guys?

Quinton hasn't been filled in about the excessive killing, thankfully. "Need to….do something, Ryan."

Kayla narrows her eyes slightly but nods after a moment and pushes to her feet. She moves towards he brother as Bob glares at her - sure, she'd shot the raider…but he had shot first, even if it wasn't that day. There was a reason…a damn good reason."Who in the group knows about that sort of thing?" random NPC who we will call Clark asks. He's pretty sure the others are being a bit paranoid about the thing being all explodey.

Bob isn't the kind to back down, so he'll stand there till Kayla moves. He eyes her for a few moments and then moves to the crate, looking it over. "Yeah. Get Terry. Or one of the other military folks. I'll give it a once over." He may not know about explosives, but he knows how to look for signs of danger.

Kayla can tell her brother is confused, and she leans in and murmurs quietly to her brother, "He's pissed at me because I shot one of the raiders that shot you." She isn't hiding her words, but she is whispering them.

"On it." Clark runs down the stairs and out in search of Terry or anyone else that could help with the case.

Quinton's eyes narrow, glancing between Bob and Kayla, trying to figure out what's up. Kayla clears it up some and he asks, "In the …shoot out…" Why is that an issue? He doesn't keep his voice down. His eyes stay on the box though, curiosity peaked.

Kayla nods her head once to her brothers inquiry, but remains silent. Bob is in charge, and she's just a lowly Wells sibling.

Bob's been in more interviews than most. He knows how to read a conversation. He may not have heard what Kayla said, but he heard Quinton. "Shoot out?" He intones as he checks out the box. "Let's get somethin real clear. A silencer was killin some folk. We killed it. Then Kayla shot one of the survivors down dead without even a moment to wonder if he was an enemy or not. We wasn't even close enough to tell who the fuck they were." He stands now, contended with the crate. "There was a time, that'd be called murder." And now his gaze falls on Kayla, "Now maybe they were the raiders that shot Quinton, and maybe not. But they sure as shit weren't shootin at us."

"Sure let's make sure things are crystal clear," Kayla snaps, and her chin lifts as she looks sharply to Bob. "I wasn't the only one shooting at them…maybe my shot went wide of the Silencer, but you assumed I was aiming at the Bandit, so that -has- to be what happened because YOU decided that's what happened. And they might not have been shooting at us -yet- but they'd already shot Quinton, so why would I think they weren't going to do the same to us then?" She steps forward, shoulders tensing. "We were close enough to see everything. We were close enough that you could walk to them in seconds. Don't try an pull some holier than thou shit Bob…you might have been a cop in the past, but you sure as -hell- didn't hesitate in shooting that silencer in the head AFTER he was already down and out, did you? Just for fun, was it? For all we knew, that Silencer was one of the good ones and the bandits were the ones that attacked him and HE was just defending himself. But you didn't bother to find out, did you? YOU shot first, NOT me." By the time she's finished, she is shaking almost uncontrollably, her face flushed red, fists clenched at her sides and eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Quinton blinks, confused, looking between the two as they argue. His brow wrinkles as frown forms, "No….in the fight, not…" His hand waves, this is getting confusing. The poet then reaches for his sister, "Kayla…calm down, no one is…it's ok…"

Fists clench and Bob returns his cold glare to Kayla, "Wide? The Silencer was on the ground with three bullets in him. If you are that bad of a shot, then you ain't gettin a gun ever again." He keeps his tone level, not raising his voice. "I shot the silencer because I've seen the ones that don't mean us any harm. That wasn't one of em. They don't kill like that. That thing was slaughterin' them, and they didn't stand a chance." A beat pause, and he glances to Quinton, the back to Kayla, "And no. I didn't hesitate to shoot it in the head twice. I've seen those bastards get shot a dozen times and live. We don't take chances with Silencers like that one. Killin' people is different than killin' Silencers, and if you don't get that difference, then we got bigger problems than I thought."

Once more he looks back to Quinton, still calm, still keeping his voice level, "Now would be a good time for you two to go cool off. The cop in me thinks Kayla needs to be in a cell right next to those bandits, and this argument ain't helpin."

Kayla sends a look over her shoulder at Quinton, and shakes her head. "Calm down? Sure, no problem. Bob thinks he's a fucking hero, the only one that can EVER be right, that -his- opinions and ideas are the only ones that matter..yeah, I'll calm down." Then Bob's words wash over her, and her head snaps back around. "So throw me in there. See just how many of the people in this camp will think shooting a bandit who shot my brother is a bad thing." She steps forward, and extends her hands. "Be the hero you are so fucking desperate to be, make everyone bow to the rules you decide on." A brief pause and she adds, "You used to be a good guy, Bob…I used to trust you. Then you decided you were leader and now you're…you're…" She trails off, and just shakes her head and then her wrists in his direction. Will he do it?

Oh….hell no. Quin moves and places himself between Kay and Bob, "Stop." He's not got words today to particularly help this situation, but he knows this isn't the way. He'll try again to get ahold of Kay's hand, but looks at Bob, "No…cell…defense….not murder…."

Bob eyes Kayla at her words, frowning now for the first time. "A hero…" he mutters quietly. "I'm no hero, Kayla. I never wanted this. Sunny died and someone needed to stand up. I gave you all a chance to say your peace then. I didn't hear shit comin' from you." And then he eyes Quinton as he gets in the way, "Gotta get attacked for it to be defense. That guy she killed didn't even know she was there when she gunned him down."

He sighs and turns away from them both, moving towards the door. "I'll make this real easy though, Kayla. You think this job is so easy? You do it. I'm tired of a bunch of ungrateful little fucks thinkin' they know what it's like havin' everyone's lives in their hands. Thinkin' they know what that weight feels like."

Kayla didn't say anything because she wasn't around when Sunny died…but back then, she would have thought Bob would have been a different kind of leader, if she HAD had a say. "I never said the job was easy; I -did- say you don't have to be such a 'my way or the highway' jerk about it!" Kayla retorts, though some of the steam has left her voice after her brother stepped between him and her. "Maybe try a bit softer a touch, less of the 'I'm the law in this town', and you won't find it so hard. Try asking for -help-. You are not in this alone, despite what you clearly think - but when was the last time you asked any of us for help with something other than a menial task?" He may be walking away, but apparently the younger wells sibling isn't done. "I can't remember when you last asked me for help…and when I do something, it's either ignored or you bitch about it. This isn't a one way street."

Bob's words take a moment to sink in and he blinks, turning slightly to look at his sister. He tenses though, being called an ungrateful little fuck does that, and he tightens his hold on his sister's hand, holding her back for the moment so she doesn't follow bob. He waits till Bob is out of the room before turning back to look at Kayla, questioningly and a bit confused. "Talk….later." When his head can process things better.

Bob doesn't turn around or engage with Kayla as she continues to speak. He's out the door and off down the hall at a brisk walk. There's the sound of a fist hitting a wall. And then the sound of the door to the complex opening and slamming shut.

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