(2016-02-23) New Face
New Face
Summary: Monica and Piper meet, Terry bring sandwiches
Date: 2.23.2016
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)

SGA Club House

This large building dominates the center of the complex. It serves several purposes. First and for most it is a gathering spot where the apartment residents can socialize and gather for various reasons. There is a large sitting area, with sofas and chairs surrounding a large marble coffee table. They all sit within a comfortable distance of a large fireplace which has a large flatscreen TV hanging above it. Adjacent to that is a small kitchenette area, separated by a marble topped bar with barstools sitting in front of it.

On the other side of the large gathering area is a small office area, accessed by a windowed door where the manager and apartment staff did there business for the day. There is also another windowed door that leads to a small fitness room with the usual workout machines as well as some nautilus machines and free weights.

It seems the clubhouse has a few new occupants, four young cats. Three calico cats and one gray striped. They are always seeking attention. The gray is named Ramses, the others are Bug, Sweetie and Pickles.

Morning has broken on the small town of Stratford. It's a quiet one, except for the sound of the rooster at the farm crowing every few minutes, and the comings and goings of the complex residences as the pass through the club house to grab a quick breakfast or cup of coffee before they go about their duty for the day.

It is warm outside but there is a small fire going in the fireplace, in which a couple of percolator camp coffee pots hang above. And that is where Piper is, her four month old infant son strapped to her front with a bandeau of fabric. She is pouring herself a cup of coffee, keeping a watchful eye on the one year old that is toddling around, using the furnishings for support. There are seven children all under the care of the petite exotic beauty (and only one is actually hers), but only the two are present at the moment.

Monica opens the door and peeks around the corner. Her nose twitches. Is that… can it be… coffee? She looks at the pack of small children and the woman with them curiously. She ponders a moment, then decides that the kids (and their guardian) will freak out slightly less at her face, bad as it is, than they would an armed bandit of the old west variety. Blame the coffee. It calls to her. "Hi," she says as she finally steps into the room.

"Someone made coffee, I see." Terry notes, as he wanders in from outside. He practically glides over to the coffee pot, pours himself a cup, and settles in at a nearby table. Once he's done imbibing his coffee, he un-slings the rifle bag he's had strapped to his back, unzips it, and unpacks his rifle. Once that's done, he sets the rifle-bag on the floor, fishes a few cleaning supplies out of it, and proceeds to give his trusty weapon a good stem-to-stern cleaning.

The news that there was a new face in camp had reached Piper's ears, but until this morning she had not seen said face. And what a face. She stares for a moment, until Terry's arrival and beeline for the coffee pulls her attention toward him. Clutching her coffee cup she scrambles back from him, the movement making the baby start a bit in surprise at her sudden movement. Watching the ex-Marine warily a moment as he settles himself she then turns back to Monica, giving a wave of her fingers, then taps her mug and points to the bar area where others are set out for people to grab.

Monica watches Piper and Terry curiously. When she notices Piper's stare she smiles a little. "Yeah, I'm still getting used to it. Kind of startling in the mirror, now that I have a mirror again." She tries to keep it light. This is going to be her face quite probably the rest of her life. She follows Terry's example and makes a beeline for coffee. "Whoever made the coffee… whoever found the beans… a blessing on your head.

Terry finishes stripping, cleaning, and otherwise returning his rifle to some semblance of perfection, and packs it away. "The coffee's as good as the stuff I got back when I served. Good stuff.." He pauses. "So, what's on the agenda for today? Hunting, fishing, scavenging..?" He inquires of the two women. "I'm up for anything."

Piper drops her eyes when she is called on the staring. She should know better, she gets the stares too, for the opposite reason, and she doesn't like it anymore than Monica would…probably. The other woman's comments have her making a circling gesture around the room, though who knows what that could mean. Terry's question has her looking back at him, and makes a few more hand gestures, including a tap to the eye and tapping of her back. He's been around to know she means scavenging.

Monica sips her coffee and winces. "Hot…" She looks over at Terry. "I'm game for hunting…" she chuckles a little. "Hey do you know of any houses in this town that aren't on the municipal sewer?

Terry grins. "Nice! Scavenging is always fun. Whenabouts are we heading out?" He inquires, stretching luxuriously. He's an old guy — not 'Bob' old, but.. not a youngster — so he's entitled to be somewhat creaky, even though he's USMC strong. And then Monica speaks. "…So, full day." A beat. "Nice."

There is a shrug from Piper, apparently she isn't much of a talker, though doesn't have any problems communicating what she wants, at least to those that now what all her motions mean. She isn't deaf either. It seems to be a mix of actual sign language and pantomime on her part. A tap of her wrist, and she points to Terry and Monica, perhaps leaving the when up to them. A quizzical look is given to Monica at her question about sewage and septic and another shrug is given. Is there a way to tell that sort of thing just by looking at the houses…she has no idea.

Monica shudders as she finally gets some coffee down, careful to keep it on the good side of her mouth where the heat won't light up her teeth as much. "Oooo…." She glances over at Piper, watching the mixture of gestures and… probably sign. It dawns on her what's going on. "Shit, my parents raised me better than this. I'm sorry. I'm Monica. What's your name? Do you mind if he tells me?" She gestures to Terry. "I'm up for scavenging too. Just gotta go get my Sharps and some tools."

"Alright. Whenever you two are ready to roll, we can head out." Terry nods, doing a quick stretch to loosen up. "Piper's not much of a talker. More the strong, silent type. When she does talk, it's worth listening, though." He gives a (hopefully) reassuring smile to Piper.

When Monica introduces herself Piper gives a waggle of fingers in greeting. She shakes her head, bringing one of her long braids into grabbing reach of the baby who begins to wave it around like a flag, which seems to make him have a fit of giggles. In the hair department he takes after his mother, they both have a lot, lot, lot of it. There is a tap of her nose and point to Terry when he says her name. As for the other infant, the one toddling around, he has started chasing after one of the cats, who has taken refuge under the sofa.

Monica says, "Nice to meet you. Are all these little folks yours?" She ruffles the nearest one's hair as the child goes by. "Hi." She smiles, but her lip trembles and she squeezes her eyes closed a moment. Takes a few breaths and moves away from the kid to focus on her coffee."

Piper shakes her head, a hand caress the afro covered head of the dark skinned infant she carries and she pats her chest "M..m..m..mine." she stammers and gesture is then made to the other infant, "No." he's cleary not hers, she may be racially ambiguous but she isn't at all Asian like the one year old trying to reach under the sofa to get the cat "Buh! Buh! Buh!" he squeals. Her head tilts at the expression that crosses over Monica's face "Okay?"

Monica wipes away tears and shivers again. "Sorry. Sorry… I just… he reminded me of someone who's… gone." She gets out a bandanaand uses it as a handkerchief. "Plague." she explains briefly. She nods to Piper. "I'm more messed up than I thought, I guess. I haven't seen little kids since… then."

Terry returns from an unannounced departure, carrying two plates of PB&J sandwiches. "I figured we could all use something to munch on.." He nods to the kids, indicatively. "Who's hungry?"

The woman ooohs at the response from Monica and nods giving a look of understanding. "Troy." she points to the one still after the cats, and then to the one attached to her "Quinn." Since the others aren't present, she doesn't bother with thier names.

Did someone say PB&J….they may as well have, if there was a superpower that detected peanut butter Piper would have it…maybe she does. Hungry or not she knows that nutty goodness when she sees it or smells it and she makes her way to where Terry is with the plate of sandwiches. It's going to be a really sad day for her when peanut butter is no longer around.

Monica sniffs and looks over at Terry, and the tears start escaping again. "I've been on the road for six months… living on pickled eggs and roadkill, more or less. Oh god, this is like coming home…" She sobs. It doesn't stop her moving toward the sandwiches. "Yes please."

Terry swipes a sandwich for himself, and then backs off, giving the two some space. "Dig in." He says, with a little flourish-y gesture.

Yes, space is something that Piper requires, she certainly stays out of the pairs personal space and reach as she grabs a couple of sandwiches for herself. A nod of thanks is given to Terry. Monica's descent into waterworks has her suddenly looking indecisive, she isn't sure what to do, her first instinct is comfort, but she has a bit of a phobia about new people, so yeah, she isn't sure what to do.

Monica mops at her eyes again and gratefully tucks into a sandwich, slowly, carefully pushing it over to the good side of her mouth. Eating takes time. Poor hunting is not the only reason she's so skinny. She washes the sandwich down with coffee.

Terry smiles as the two dig into the sandwiches, grabs his rifle, and heads off to his post, passing another guard on his way up.

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