(2016-03-29) Not The Best Suggestions
Not The Best Suggestions
Summary: But you have to start somewhere
Date: 3.29.2016
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:
amy..pied-piper..quinton..

SGA Club House

This large building dominates the center of the complex. The rear wall is predominatly windows, but the glass is gone and has been replaced for the moment be screening. 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 surrouding 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 kitchette 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 occupants, four young cats. Two calico cats and one gray striped. They are always seeking attention. The gray is named Ramses, the others are Sweetie and Pickles.


It's sometime in the early morning, most folks have gone out and started doing whatever it is they do for the day. Hopefully it is something productive, but who knows. Piper hasn't gone out yet, and from the looks of it she just got done with a bath. Or at least washing her copious amounts of thick kinky hair. It's out of its braids and barrettes, a rare sight these days, and looking damp. She enters the clubhouse, baby on one hip and what looks like a jewelry box in her hand. Her dark eyes with their always overly large pupils rove the room, clearly looking for someone.

Amy is coming in to eat, before she gets something going for the day. She's not carrying a book, as she does a lot lately, because now she can read in her apartment, which is pretty huge. So she comes in, and seeing Piper doing her thing, she waves and comes over to sit nearby to begin eating cereal.

Well currently her thing is just standing there a slight frown on her face. As Amy comes in Piper's gaze lands on her, not who she was looking for but perhaps the young woman will do. There is some silent watching as cereal is prepared and once Amy gets settled she walks over to her "Braid?" she asks, her frown changing to something bordering on hope, but not quite making it across.

Amy touches her hair, then looks at Piper. "Oh you want me to do yours? Cool." She then takes her traveling bowl and mug, and comes on over to sit behind Piper. Won't be able to eat with her hands full, but ehh, might as well bring it over with her.

Piper nods "Yes." the jewelry/music box (it plays Ravel's Bolero) is handed over, in it is a wide toothed comb, various barrettes and ponytail holders as well as a small jar of what is most likely coconut oil and even a bottle or two of fingernail polish, not that she uses the stuff, even if she keeps her finger and toes otherwise immaculate. "Thanks."

Amy settles in, straddling her seat to face Piper's back. She takes a comb, carefully and starts trying to work it into Piper's hair. Carefully, mind you. Trying to avoid tugging, using her fingers too. "So do you want one or two?" she asks. "That's a nice music box."

Two fingers are held up to indicate the answers. Piper's hair is to thick to be able to handle just one, even two can be a challenge. It seems to have a life of its own at times. Propping baby Quinn in the corner of the sofa she hands him his teething ring, which he gums at with enthusiasm. The contents of the box are spilled on the coffee table to make access to the hair accessories easier and the music box is wound up, it's music fills the air. Clinging to it like a lifeline she starts to nod again, but fingers in her hair make that hard so she is forced to speak. "Yes. Present. Quinton." her fingers trace the engravings that decorate the top.

Amy gets to work then. Making use of comb and fingers she prepares the hair, and divides it in half in back, then again, making two strands to start working on one side. She's slow and careful with the work, not having done someone else's hair in a long time, and not wanting to tug on it. Its easier doing your own since you can tell if it hurts or not. "He's nice. Reminds me I need to give him some news sometime. But every time I run into him it's in front of other people and it's medical news, so, you know."

"He's m..m..m…more." Piper thinks nice would be an understatement. Her fingers clinch on the box but not from any of the tugging that Amy is doing to her hair. That she can handle. "Good?" she seems to recall it was, but she is always worried when it comes to the poet, especially considering how much he has been through injury wise.

Amy nods, as she threads the batches of hair into each other, tightening them as she goes, making braids similar to her own. "Oh yeah, better news than I expected, to be honest. I asked him if I could research his situation. At first I was worried, but the situation is much better than I thought at first. Helped I could talk to a real doctor."

Piper hmmms relaxing as the music from the music box plays as well as the ministrations of her hair being worked on. Someone likes music…and pampering. "Mean…" she lifts a hand, making wiggling finger gestures with her hand to her head, indicating his head issues. She is keeping an eye on the baby so when he looks like he is about to start a game of mommy fetch with the teething ring she gently catches his arm before he can toss the thing "No Quinn." she tries to keep the amusement from her voice, to which the baby waves his arm and blows a raspberry at her.

Amy digs into the box with one hand again, grabbing something nice to clip at teh end of the braid, then shift a bit to start working on the other side. She snickers too at the baby. "Yeah, that’s what I was researching," is the answer to Piper though. "So did you get a chance to read the book I dug up for you?"

There is a sigh of relief, which thankfully keeps her from giggling at the baby too. It's hard not to at baby Quinn, with his full head of curly locks and his chubby cheeks he is adorable. "Good." she has seen how frustrating it can be for the man and it makes her heart ache for him. For all her own issues she is quite empathetic when it comes to others, most notably him "Yes." again the trying for a nod, but that isn't happening. Piper winds the music box again and Bolero starts up once more "Trying."

Amy is slowly folding the hair together again. "Good, good. I hope he is too, but I'll ask him that when I give him his news." Taking her time as she watches the music box get wound. "Listening to music is probably good too."

"Yes." Piper agrees. She isn't sure if it is helping yet, but it is still to early to tell. "Music. Crochet." she is doing both to help with the whole mindfulness thing. "Was mus-ci-cian." so yes, totally the music thing for her.

Amy blinks, and pauses a moment. "You were? What kind of music did you use to make?" she asks softly. Just get her talking. "When I was like in middle school I did some gymnastics and stuff. Never got totally serious about it though."

More winding to the music box. Does she ever get tired of hearing that song? "Class-i-cal." Piper starts, so no, she probably really loves Bolero "O-per-a." so nothing mainstream or heard on the radio, "Flute. Sang." preventing another attempt at mommy fetch she pulls the baby into her lap "Why?"

Amy takes a deep breath, and leans over again to the box once it's done being wound, to grab another clip for the other braided tail. "Just wondering. If we can find a good way for you to make music, that could be a good thing related to the mindfulness stuff. It's all about getting your mind in the now, and like… if you have stuff you're working on, that's a good way to do that. It's why I keep reading. I'm sure like, if I ever stop, and just… sit. Then it won't be healthy."

"Have Flute. Gui-tar." neither of which she plays as much as she used to before hell came to Earth, though to be fair she didn't start playing the guitar until after, when she started getting lessons from Quinton. "Church piano." plenty of instruments around, her issue is most likely a mental one, her mental frame of mind isn't where it should be so playing is harder for her, or it could be just the memories associated with it. Her gaze goes to the gramophone and the small selection of records stored with it.

Amy finishes with the hair, and flicks the tails over her shoulders so Piper can see them. "There you go," she nods. "That sounds great." Pausing, she takes a deep breath before venturing on. "I have a suggestion. You don't have to do it, but it's just an idea."

Oh a braid! Baby Quinn squees in delight. Mommy's hair is his favorite plaything so the teething ring is tossed, the braid grabbed and waved around like a flag. Piper let's him. He doesn't chew on it, just waves it, so she is fine with it. Turning to face Amy, she gives the younger woman a curious look. "Yes?"

Amy comes around to sit to the side of Piper and the baby, both for easier conversation and to watch the baby play. Yes, that's where her eyes go, watching the batting around of the barrette at the tip. "Well, I was thinking, one thing that's good for staying in the moment, is building routines that you can just follow sometimes. It gives you a chance to heal. So if you set like, one afternoon a week, when you play music and let the kids sing with you, it would give structure. For them and for you."

Okay that isn't where Piper thought Amy was going and the relief shows. Her own eyes are on the baby as well, bouncing him a bit on her lap, which is also a delight to him, "Yes." she knows the routine thing, but while the children have one, well sorta, she doesn't so much, not anymore at least. She hmmmms with a nod, it isn't an objectionable idea. "Could teach." the kids music at the time too, two birds kind of thing.

Amy thought about telling her to sing, but naaaaaah. Nowhere near ready for that. She smiles at the reaction. "Great. I don't want you to push yourself, since you don't need any added stress. But like.. yeah. Just… a little bit. If you have one afternoon a week you and the kids are looking forward to, then that'll be nice. The rest of us might look forward to it too, if some of us come to watch."

Yeah stress wouldn't be good for the woman, though who isn't under stress lately. "Want va-ca-tion." Piper is exhausted with all this, but aren't they all. Piper nods "Could do." though at the mention of an audience there is some balking. She isn't sure if she is ready for an audience yet, despite her brave talk last week in the library.

Amy giggles. "Vacation. You know." She pauses, and thinks, her brow furrowing a moment. "I wonder. But yeah. the people wouldn't be there to see you. It'd be for the kids. You know, like a school pageant? You'd be, in the background, no attention to you at all. The kids would get to be the stars and get cheered for."

Eyebrows arch at Amy's unspoken thought "What?" she prods. If it gets her a break she wants to know about it. "Oh! Re-ci-tal." Piper nods, those she is intimately familiar with. "Those…fun." she takes a moment set the squirming Quinn on the floor, freeing her braid in the process. He immediately leans over flopping on his belly, kicking his feet and waving his arms a bit before pushing himself up onto hands and knees. The woman watches him. But are they fun to watch or be in? At one time it would have been both for her, especially the later. Now though… "Maybe." she isn't saying no at least.

Amy leans forward, putting her hand to the baby's, letting him grab a finger if he wants. "Well you know, like. It's up to you. Don't operas have like all kinds of action and adventure in them? Imagine getting them running around until they're tired mimicking that stuff. If you told them they have to be loud, HAVE to be loud, they'd love that."

Besides Amy, Piper and Quinn, the clubhouse is empty of human occupants. The woman sit on the sofa, and the baby is on hands and knees on the floor below them. There is a grab made for the finger but then a cat comes into the baby's line of sight and the finger is forgotten as he squees and begins to scoot forward, not quite crawling, but more like pulling himself forward with his arms while pushing off with his feet…the precursor to crawling.

Once more the music box is wound up and the classical peice starts up again. Its easy to note that Piper seems to communicate better when the music is going then when it isn't "Yes." is the reply to the question and then she lifts a hand and wobbles it. There is a nod and she flipping her freshly braided hair over her shoulder, since there isn't a baby in her lap to wave the thing around. "Loud." they can be very loud.

Amy sits up once the baby's distracted from her finger, still watching though. Suddenly remembering why she originally came, she leans over to grab her cereal and water, and starts to snack on one while sipping the other. "Well like, if there's anything I can do to help you set up the recital, let me know. I don't know very much about opera though. Just Bugs Buggy, you know?"

Quinton steps inside, having already emptied most of his back back from his earlier scavenging. The man is soaked, having gotten caught and not quite made it to shelter in time. There's still a few things to deliver to the storage room though, so there's some weight to bios bag. Both women get a smile, while cold he seems in a good mood, "Hey…morning." Pale eyes take in the new braids, which makes him happy and he heads towards the kitchen.

"Figaro, Seville or Die Walküre?" Piper has no issue getting the names of the more popular of the Bugs Bunny opera renditions out. There were more than those three, but those are the more familiar ones. The arrival and greeting from Quinton has her looking over her shoulder at him "Morn-ing." she greets back speaking loud enough to be heard over Ravel's Bolero coming from the music box. Not that it's loud, she just talks softly. The baby continues his scooting across the floor after the cat.

Amy giggles. "The one with the horned helmet, with Elmer Fudd." Sitting back, she takes some time to eat, giving the new arrival a wave. She then stands up and looks over to Quinton. "Hi Quinton, you have a minute to talk?"

Quinton's pulling out a few canned food and a ramen packet, listening to the two chatter about…opera? He pauses, a mug with World's Greatest Dad printed on it in his hand when Amy addresses him directly. Pale eyes come up to look at the standing girl, "…sure?"

Piper gives a nod "Die Walküre." she seems to be familiar with the opera. And yes opera, though it isn't such much a conversation about that as it is the kids putting one on. When Amy gets up to addresses Quinton with the question, she gets up as well. Her target though is her son, whom she scoops off the floor and moves to where the gramophone and albums are. She busies herself with looking through those to give the pair the semblance of privacy, since she knows that Amy was wanting to talk personal health stuff with him.

Amy nods, and gestures for Quinton to follow, where she can speak quietly. "I studied your case," she says with a deep breath, speaking quietly so Piper can't listen in. "I talked with an actual doctor too. The best evidence is that the fever did hurt you, but… most of your problem is PTSD, and is totally treatable. That's why I gave you the book the other day. That's where you can start. You can get better." She then gives him a weak smile.

Quinton's gaze darts from Piper to Amy, slightly confused. He'll follow, but then stops when Amy starts talking. He frowns and he shakes his head, "no…that's not right." PTSD? from what? He didn't have anything worse than anyone else. Less , actually. He glances to Piper, who he's pretty sure is suffering from that. "Maybe….help other people first?" Maybe he's right? or maybe he's just being stubborn. His stubbornness is almost legendary in camp.

Piper is just across the room, showing the baby on her hip the colorful pictures that grace the covers of the small album collection she has there. Of course there are occasional curious glances in their direction, but she stays where she is for the moment.

Amy puts a small hand on Quinton's shoulder, and smiles. "I am. But I wanted to help you too. Follow what's in the book. Maybe join Piper in working the process." She gestures with her head toward Piper, but continues to be softly voiced about it. "She needs it more, yes. And I'm offering her more. But I feel like she needs your help, so if you work on this together, she'll benefit." The girl then gives him a quick little hug, and starts walking back toward her food.

Quinton's jaw tightens, he's not liking this at all. H34 stands there, letting her give the hug then walk away from him.

She's still watching them and when the conversation seems to turn to her, the looks at her and the gesture, her brow furrows a bit. Yeah she isn't liking it either, but mostly because she doesn't know what /it/ is. Piper bites her bottom lip worriedly though reading the body language of the poet as he is hugged and Amy walks away..she thought this was supposed to be good news.

Amy gives a little wave, and shrugs at the concerned Piper. "There, I got to tell him finally. Up to you if he tells you, technically I have to be all confidential about it. I mean, it's not like I'm ever going to get a job as a therapist, but you know. IT's the principle of the thing."

Quinton stands there a moment more before he turns back to the kitchen. He doesn't look up, the possibilities swarming in his head. he busies himself emptying out the rest of his backpack before shrugging it back on.

Piper doesn't know what just happened there just that the previously cheerful Quinton is not anymore and that Amy just sounded very unprofessional, but given her age at least that is to be expected. Confused Piper is confused, and considering the situation this isn't good for her mental state. At this point she isn't sure what to do, so she does what she does best, disappears. She's good at that. Maybe she escaped to the patio.

Amy happened to be looking away to start eating again. When she looks up, Piper's gone? Huh. She shrugs, and looks over to Quinton. "You matter you know. You helped me so much with the trader. You're important, and you're worth my time to help."

The man's jaw tightens again. Stubborn is as stubborn does. He opens his mouth, either to argue or change the subject but the room is suddenly empty two people. Quin looks over to Amy, his voice slightly strained, "I wasn't….like this before getting sick." he's not going to argue his value, he knows he can be replaced, very easily. "I did what anyone would do." With the trader, that is. The strap of his backpack is adjusted, he's clearly getting ready to leave again. Maybe to scavenge more.

Amy shakes her head. "I think you did more than other people would do. I remember when the lights went out. Some people got… mean." She closes her eyes a moment, and sighs. "Alright. Well, I'll be working with Piper on having the kids to a music recital. I hope you do the mindfulness exercises."

Quinton's own head shakes, "Can't do that now….we have to all help each other." His nose twitches, although it's hard to say if he thinks a musical recital is a good or bad thing. "Talk to Kayla." She teaches the kids as much, if not more than Piper. He doesn't respond about the exercises. Instead he just nods and heads for the door.

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