2237-06-25 - Scavenging Scouts

Fox Force Four scout the way ahead, and scavenge through an already badly picked over megastore for supplies.

Date: 2237-06-25

Location: Suburbia -- Arborfield

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1162

Jump to End

Everyone is either rested or nearing the end of their assigned rest 'cycle,' so it's almost time to move out. With the injured Picon rebel, however, they'll be a bit slowed down and limited in their movements. That means having to scout out routes in advance to make sure he'll be able to navigate them and that they're free of Cylon presence. If they encounter a patrol, they're -- in a word -- frakked. So it's up to Kyle, Lyn, and Charlie to ensure that the way is clear when the other three are ready to follow.

The sky is overcast, but the clouds directly overhead don't hang heavy. There are some in the distance, however, that do; threatening to release their collected weight at any time. The air is thick with humidity, though no sense of any actual storm. No, this region is wet, but little by way of the crackle of storms. Just the oppressive weight of wet. The dry of the ship will surely be a welcome respite after this excursion for Fox Force Four upon their return. The sun is barely visible behind the clouds, blanketing everything in a sort of greenish haze to go along with the green of the trees, of the grass, and of the moss and molds that blanket absolutely everything. Enjoy breathing mold? Because surely they all have been for the past few days.

The mold is probably going to come back on them once they get back to the Vanguard. Hopefully, Doc Cadmus has something to deal with it. They crawled through enough of the stuff the first night of the insertion for their lungs to be a mold nursery. Fortunately, it hasn't made them cough yet, that would be bad. Lyn crouches behind the remains of what might have been a nice little garden shed before the uprising. Now it's a blackened husk of burnt wood, barely upright any longer, but in better shape than the house it belonged to. That is a foundational crater in the earth, with no above ground structure remaining. She motions the others forward in this game of survival leapfrog.

Within the suburban streets, they have plenty of cover from houses, fences, cars, and childrens' playhouses. However, the streets themselves are wide and full of intersections. There is cover, but there is also a lot of risk of patrols simply storming through or spotting them from a distance. It's truly a game of cat and mouse; as the codename for the overall Picon operation suggests. Charlie has been marking off the path on her map with a wax pencil. From this corner to this house to this small park. She's not far behind Lyn, listening to the sounds of a truck rumble by of a patrol they'd just marked as passing a few streets up.

"You'd think the frakkers would grow bored of patrolling empty streets," the woman mutters under her breath. Beat. "...but that'd require they be programmed with boredom. And now I'm imagining toasters playing cards." Wagner rolls her eyes, leaning up and pulling out her monocular, trying to catch a glimpse of the passing patrol as she scurries past towards the next house up- which requires crossing a street.

Mold is just as bad as days without a bath. Soap is a necessity in polite culture and wondrous at saving off disease, but while running from Cylons, there aren't a lot of convenient showers in a bombed out wasteland. These thoughts, and more, crossed Kyle's mind for her four hours of sleep. Hot showers. A warm bed. A pillow. Luxuries, each and every one, and they're the finish line to this bounce down onto Picon.

"I wonder if they have an orientation process, or if they just...clone." Kyle whispers as she leapfrogs into her position, shouldering the side of a woodshed within earshot of the two. Rifle low, she peeks around a corner and watches the street all of the way down to the bend it makes two blocks down.

Lyn is looking down at her watch with a frown. She's timing the patrols, frequency, size, locations. She scrawls the data into her own notebook, before she tucks it away and moves forward again. Some of the yards are clear enough for Trevor to be helped through and still provide a little cover, but it will be slower going than the wide open streets.

The Ghost dips through a wide hole in a backyard fence and sticks her back to the wide trunk of a large tree. She looks up, at a children's treehouse still perched in the branches, with the roof burned off, and grimaces.

"Is it like copy and pasting a file? What if they copy and paste the one that likes showtunes?" Charlie adjusts her own rifle on its sling, leaning back against the shed alongside Kyle; using the structure to relieve some of the weight on her shoulders. The MREs they've eaten took up so little as it was that it hasn't really helped the overall load. She tucks her monocular away now that they're past the patrol, taking out the map to orient herself. Another mark is made. "I think that's the same patrol we heard earlier," she notes quietly, glancing to Lyn. "So we should be safe. They seem to be keeping to the main roads... So long as we stick to staggering avoiding the cross-streets when they pass..." She lifts the map so the other two can see- or at least Kyle, next to her, chewing at her lip. They're nearing the shopping centers. And the need to start debating where to head next.

"Cylons couldn't like showtunes; they have no souls. Just machines with faulty logic." Kyle replies grimly, the thought suddenly coming to mind as she lifts her head towards the map and gives it a once-over. Frowning to it, she nods at the location of the shopping center and looks up in that direction. "No offense to your home planet, but I'm ready to get the frak out of here." Kyle mutters to Charlie and follows up to Lyn's position at the hole in the fence. Stopping on the other side, Kyle leans and looks through, looking up to the treehouse. Lips flatten and a sigh escapes the woman. "...fuck this place this week."

"Cylons couldn't like showtunes; they have no souls. Just machines with faulty logic." Kyle replies grimly, the thought suddenly coming to mind as she lifts her head towards the map and gives it a once-over. Frowning to it, she nods at the location of the shopping center and looks up in that direction. "No offense to your home planet, but I'm ready to get the frak out of here." Kyle mutters to Charlie and follows up to Lyn's position at the hole in the fence. Stopping on the other side, Kyle leans and looks through, looking up to the treehouse. Lips flatten and a sigh escapes the woman. "...frak this place this week."

Lyn beckons the other women forward, then she climbs the rungs of the tree house nailed into the tree proper. She gets up into the structure, with the floor still intact, and uses the height to peer over the rest of the yards, at the shopping centers. She looks through for any movement, any signs of life, Cylon or human. She also looks for the names on the stores, trying to figure out what might be available to scavenge, that might make moving Trevor easier. Materials to make a stretcher or a sled, or even proper crutches, could greatly increase their speed overland.

"You'd change your mind if we were in Queenstown, on the beach, sipping fruity drinks in the sun... without being shot at," Charlie counters to Kyle. She tucks the map away, moving to follow Lyn to the treehouse and up into it... after deciding it'll actually hold the three of them. "Spot any good routes?" This, of Lyn; rather than crowding the other woman. She hunches down in a corner; trying to take up as little space as possible.

There's one of those 'mega stores' down below, which would probably have a fair bit of looting options... except it looks like it was already thoroughly looted. And bombed. However, out front, Lyn does spot one of those wheelchair shopping carts, with basket attached. They could probably break the basket off. It might be a pain in the woods, but they could at least lift-and-carry Trevor over things. The store, inside, may have crutches as well.

"The being shot at part kinda kills the mystique. Right on that." Kyle mutters to Charlie in passing, letting the other woman through the hole in the fence first, and up into the treehouse, as well. Kyle follows after, letting her rifle hang from its sling for the climb into the treehouse. She falls silent, resting back against the wall of the treehouse to look in the opposite direction, keeping watch for the others while a plan is prepped.

"The routes are all equally a hot mess with Trevor unable to walk," Lyn murmurs. She hands her binoculars to Charlie and points in the direction of the megastore. "But we might be able to use some parts of that wheelchair basket, and there might be crutches or things we can use to make some, or even a stretcher, inside. Those materials aren't the sort of things looters look twice at," she explains. "It might be worth checking out."

"At least once we get back to Scorpia," assuming they do and that's where they go on leave next, "we can all hang on the beach. I am going to get Libran coed-wasted, I swear." Wagner reaches for the binoculars, moving up to swap spots with Lyn. "If we weren't going into the woods, we could use the chair itself," Charlie murmurs, considering the location indicated by the other woman. "Or, we could go for both. If we find crutches or materials and they're not too heavy. Use the chair to get him out of town, then move him to the crutches... We'd move faster, at least... It'd help us skate by the patrols-" She leans back to pass the binoculars to Kyle, sidling out of the way. "What do you think?"

Kyle snags the binoculars and climbs over to the other side of the treehouse to take a look. She creeps her head over, eyes to the lenses, scanning around the storefronts. "I think the three of us can handle Mercer's pack, and Mercer's got a strong back. Toys leave tracks and Trev will fit just fine spooned in a carry." Kyle whispers in retort, tongue lashing the front of her teeth and swallowing back the saliva that comes from a smoothie shop that's been long out of commission. "That or just make a stretcher. It's going to be a bitch, no matter what we do."

"I worry the chair might be noisy," Lyn admits. She's an outdoorswoman, she tends to go for a simpler solution if there is one, as they tend to break down less in the middle of bad things happening. "A stretcher is probably our best bet. Quiet, splits the load so we can move faster." She takes back the binoculars and begins skittering back down the tree. "Let's see what we can find. We really just need poles of some sort. We can use a blanket from a bedroll for the stretcher body."

"The concern I have with a stretcher," Charlie points out, reaching into a pocket for a piece of jerky to gnaw on, "is that it ties up two peoples' hands, if we do run into trouble. Rather than just one." She gnaws on her lower lip, considering. "I vote for crutches or Gunny carrying him, personally." Jerky in mouth, she pushes up from the crumbling wall of the treehouse and follows Lyn once the other woman is on the ground, landing lightly and clearing the way to watch Kyle's descent. "Either way, we'll see what we can find and keep an eye out for anything... worthwhile for Chilly." The trash panda and her... habits. "Don't wanna weigh ourselves down too much, after all."

At the bottom of the treehouse, Kyle hands the binoculars back to Lyn. The aura of silence surrounding Kyle on the issue is a vague space, a withheld opinion on the matter; a mild state of perturbed that isn't being shared. "We just need to be three times careful." Kyle whispers to them, taking up her rifle once more, giving each a hard look. "We won't make it back to the LZ running for our lives, not with Trevor. So..." Kyle flattens her lips, face pained, asking without asking, trailing her thought process off into her turn away.

"Stretcher can be dropped fast if needed, and get the guy to cover quick. If he isn't used to crutches, he'll be loud and slow as hades on them," Lyn adds. "So let's get whatever we can, and let Mercer work it out. He's the Gunny." And she is so over being in charge. She puts the binoculars away and begins heading through the remaining yards towards the megastore.

"Yeh, best let the Gunny handle it." Charlie tongues at the jerky as she responds, moving up to the fence... or what remains of it at the far corner of the yard. It's one of the final houses before they exit the subdivision. Then a crumbled highway and the shopping centers beyond. What once must have been a noisy, loud intersection and now lies with abandoned vehicles, craters, and nature trying to reclaim what once belonged to her. Moss everywhere. And a decided... quiet. It's uneasy. No animals. No birds. Sounds way off in the distance of buildings settling in uneasy ways or the far-off sounds of Cylon movement. Trucks in the far distance. None near enough to be a concern, thankfully. They've plotted well.

With rifle to her shoulder, just in case, Charlie waves the other two forward.

The butt of Kyle's rifle points to the sky. She holds the weapon at the grip and foregrip, pointed to two feet ahead of her own. The short crep to the edge of the yard is spent looking to the two other women, that veneer of withheld words hanging in the air before she looks away. "Wait." Kyle whispers at the starting point, whipping her head back around to the two women. "If Gunny's carrying your guy and making the calls, why are we even risking this?" Kyle drops the question, lowering to one knee. "We've got kits. MREs. Tools." Kyle points towards the shopping center. "Let's just find some water, circle back, and maybe we can shower down before tail-out."

Lyn moves from cover to cover, her ears perked for any sounds of a manmade bent. The one real benefit to all this. Cylons suck at being sneaky with all those metal parts and servos and hydraulics. A small advantage, and one of the few the organics have. She arches a brow at Kyle. "Because Gunny isn't carrying Trevor. I've been. What if he says no to being the pack mule? He needs to be able to assess situations without also having a full grown man on his shoulder." She moves for the parking lot of the store, from deserted car to deserted car. She keeps low, her rifle held close.

"We also need to have the whole path to the forest's edge mapped," Charlie points out, withdrawing her map again. She squints at it, then up and towards Mega Store. "I think-" the wax pencil is taken out and another mark made. "If we cross here and... this path-" she marks another intersection, "is clear, there's a park that leads to the woods. If it's not, we'll have to go around another way. I say we track ahead to it, check it out... If it's good, we'll grab supplies to bathe on the way back." She looks up to the other two women and tries what she hopes is an encouraging smile. "Sound good?"

The bug in Kyle's is ass is having a hard time meshing with the thorn in her side. "Whatevs. Fine." Oh. Fine. Martial FINE. Kyle drops it and lets it go, returning to her cone of silence with a flat-lipped look to the two women. Emotions swallowed down, the Caprican gets over it and returns to her bounding crouch-walk from car to car, approaching the Mega Store and letting the others take the front as to remain on overwatch. It's a place, apparently, Kyle seems to enjoy.

Lyn nods at Charlie's plan. "Sounds good, let's go. We're burning daylight."

The Mega Store has been thoroughly looted. It'd be the obvious place for the Citizens of Suburbia to hit when the Cylons invaded, as well as anyone passing through. It'd have just about everything one could need. Food. Clothes. Medical supplies. Entertainment. Condoms. There's still likely to be a few things, however, and still worth at least a look-see provided they have time. Thus, the trio moves on and thankfully, the intersection and park are clear; the map is marked off and they loop back. The water options in the store are limited, but they find things like soap, cans of dry shampoo, and baking soda. All feasible 'a least let me feel a little fresh' options for days in such a damp environment.

After a return to basecamp and a chance to use said items, they've left Gunny and Trevor to slowly catch up to them with a map marked with the safe route to avoid patrols and Fox Force Four now has a run of Mega Mart and the surrounding environs...

Charlie's currently the one sitting watch, perched on one of those 'mobile carts' just inside the entrance. Long since run out of power, but a good place to chill and chow down on some mostly-stale sugary cereal she found. Happy to just hang out while the other three do their thing.

It takes an hour for Kyle Costello to stop feeding her aura of dark clouds over the situation as a whole. Something about free shopping in a Mega Store, perhaps, but the guillotine of bitch, I have a problem with some stuff has downgraded to near nothingness by the time they're in the store. Now, Kyle is simply happy to have a few minutes with a loosened tie on her helmet and the wide area of the Mega Store to stretch her legs in. She keeps her pack on, carrying everything with her as she go, pointing her rifle down the aisles as she circles the clothing section like a vulture.

Many people like looting, but few take such organic pleasure in it as Erin. She seems hell-bent on sifting through the merchandise on the shelves and on the floor. With no one around, she also takes liberties with things she might otherwise respect. Like cash registers.

Erin calmly uses the butt of her carbine to bash open cash register after cash register, pocketing whatever money she can find within. If there are none such, then she heads to the back warehouse area. All good warehouses have a back area, after all! Full of sundries, and, if Fallout 4 holds correct, suits of power armor! And nuclear material or fuel.

Lyn is on her own personal mission, trying to find the materials to make a stretcher they can carry Trevor on, so they can move faster and go through terrain with more cover, instead of weighing one of them down with carrying the injured resistance fighter and moving at half pace, having to use more open and dangerous terrain. She heads for the side of the store with home improvement, camping, and exercise gear. The likeliest places to find something to serve as poles for a stretcher. Broom or rake handles, large dowels, patio umbrella stands. She's also on the hunt for lightweight but sturdy material, like a nylon tent, or well made bedsheet, and things to secure such to poles.

Once she's had her fill of stale-and-oversweet cereal and dead-quiet streets, Charlie sets the cereal box aside and pulls out her canteen. The first sip is just to clear her mouth out. She spits off to the side and makes a bit of a face. She ate too much. Blech. The second is to wash it all down. Maybe they found liquor in there. That'd be nice. Putting the canteen away, she leans to look back over her shoulder. "Should've asked them to at least look for socks... Ah well, it'll be my turn soon enough." Because clothes? Yeah, she's definitely gonna clothes shop. She's not had much chance for that since the war began and clothes shopping through a catalog? Sucks. And Wagner always manages to get distracted and forget during leave.

Looking this way and that, Kyle disappears behind a rack of clothing and opens her pack. A few items are picked up, turned over for size, and shoved in. Sneaking it in, Kyle does her best to make it look like she's not actually taking a few liberties on her winding path back towards where Lyn headed, where more useful things may be found in housewares. Give or take a stop by a few other display stands. "You know." Kyle speaks lowly, unsure if she's within earshot of Lyn Arda. "I'm looking at all of these display stands. Desks. There's gotta be something here we can hammer together." A peace offering, Kyle throws it out, a laurel wreath of a ring toss.

Erin'll be the first to come back to Charlie and take over the front. She looks vaguely disgusted. "Can you believe it? Can't find a frakkin' bottle of alcohol anywhere in there! And they totally raided the registers. Like, who does that, right?" Except for her, of course, but she's the exception. All looters are the exception to their own rules on the sanctity of property. As in, their property is sacred, and everyone else's is meant to be taken.

The pickings are slim, but Lyn finds a couple of employee use push brooms in the garden center, and she unscrews the handles from them. They'll do as the poles for a stretcher. She also finds a tarp back there that had been used to cover some of the fertilizer bags at night, when those things were still here and not looted to make bombs. The next spot she hits is the automotive section, where she grabs handful after handful of little bungee tiedowns that were typically used to secure things to car roof racks. She grunts at Kyle and shows her the broom handles. "Garden center was a bonanza." As long as you weren't looking for food plants or seeds or fertilizer. "I think I can make due with this, and some of that duct tape I think Hayes has."

"Score." Kyle replies to Lyn with an attempt at a smile, which makes her look all the more like a child that just got caught playing in the mud. Turning on her heel, she follow Lyn around, frowning at the mostly empty racks, like Lyn's personal shoplifting posse. "These displays probably have all kinds of screws in them, if we could find an actual screwdriver, or maybe crack open the employee lockers? I don't know. Let's just not go by automotive. I might cry." Sigh. Kyle shakes her head and reaches out, offering to carry some of the load. "Need a hand?"

"Week one looters usually go for the money, hoping things will recover and they'll be rich bastards," Charlie notes to Erin, with a sidelong grin. "But the alcohol... That's a damn shame. There was a store near the park, but I bet it's bone dry, too. I was hoping for a stiff drink tonight." She leverages herself out of the mobility cart, stretching before picking up her pack and putting it on. "Time to find some clothes. Or at least dry socks. You need any?" Because she's assuming the Aquarian wasn't quite so practically minded.

"Pff." Erin doesn't seem to care about dry socks at the moment. Either that, or she has plenty of them and hasn't really told anyone. Because then, they'd want her socks. And they are her socks.

"Who thinks that way when toasters are on top of them? Seriously?" Scoff. "Picons are silly." Whatever. The diminutive scout hops atop of the perch that Charlie had been at. "Look, if you want to scrounge, you go for it. I'll keep watch. If you find anything warm and fuzzy back there, lemme know. Oh! Like, a scarf would be nice. If you find one."

Lyn passes over the tarp as the bungees get shoved into her pack. "Should probably hit clothing one more time. We probably all need some dry socks and skivvies at this point. If there's any left, that is." She heads that way, looking at the detritus in the aisles and on the shelves for anything useful that won't weight them down. It's pretty much bereft of those things in there. She does grab a pair of slightly water damaged western novels out of the book aisle though, for the Chaplain.

Kyle wraps up the tarp in her hands as she walks, trying to square it down to the tiniest package possible. "There's still some stuff all over the place but I didn't get a good look at the sizes. I don't know. I got a whad of something at a C-Bucs thing, let's not tell Mercer about it, okay?" Kyle slows her walk at the novels Lyn finds, glancing over a few too damaged to care about, but snags a package of hair ties out from under a display stand. "You think Mercer would give a shit about this? I know people know that Erin does this stuff, but we're not gonna get our bags checked coming back in, are we?"

"Bet it's the same on other planets, too," Charlie points out to Erin. "People are silly. Especially masses of them in a panic." She grins, shouldering the pack as she heads in. "Scarf, copy that." The woman meanders her way through the racks, prodding at the jewelry section and the stuff that has gone to rust in the humidity. The clothes leftover are mostly those for babies... which is its own kind of depressing. She begins meandering through, picking over racks, holding things up to her fatigues.

"Not on Aquaria. Place is a burned out crater, mostly." Erin shoulders her carbine, and puts her eyes to the horizon. "Don't take too long. We may want to move soon, some point." And, so, she sets herself out to overwatch.

"I don't think so. We came here with the intention to build something to help someone. Who's to say any of this stuff isn't helpful for that particular task?" Lyn quips with a small smile. Besides, it's an already completely looted store in Cylon territory. They aren't hurting residents. She grimaces as the unpackaged clothes on racks. Those are likely mold and/or spider infested by now. But the lingerie department often has skivvies and socks in plastic sealed packaging. "Hey Wagner, see any socks or undies that are in plastic?" she asks when she spots Charlie.

"If you two are looking for the panties they keep in plastic, that's my time to run away." Kyle laughs, waving the tarp towards Lyn and Charlie, veering off towards the front with her tiny little haul of goods. "I'll keep these up front, but the transition into regulation underwear hasn't been kind to me." Tap. Kyle bats Charlie's shoulder with the tarp and then scoots out towards Erin, approaching the woman from behind.

"Hey." Kyle whispers. "I'll trade you a dust-covered tee shirt with only three holes in it for one of those porn movies...."

"Gunny and Trevor will catch up soon. We'll head out then." Hopefully. Charlie gives Erin a hopeful smile. The clothes can at least be washed. Or attempted. Charlie's willing to try. She's only grabbing a few items- particularly a pair of jeans that she thinks will fit. The woman has very few non-issue clothes, really. She's stuffing a couple into her pack as Lyn wanders up. There's a shake of her head at the question. "Not that I found yet. Sadly." Woe betide them and their damp socks. She shoulders her pack. "Any luck on the other stuff?" There's a snort after Kyle and a roll of her eyes. "Some of us haven't had a chance, this war, to get the fancy shit!" She rolls her eyes and asides to Lyn: "Like I'm risking it ordering panties from a catalog. Saw someone do that once. They sent her the wrong size. Some six-ex-el shit. We ran it up the flagpole on base."

Lyn nods to Charlie. "I think I have everything we need to make a stretcher." She snorts about the fancy stuff. "All my delicates are still rotting on Aquaria. They weren't exactly considered necessities in the evac." She shoves some of the shelves this way and that, to see if maybe there are some unopened packages under them.

Erin takes a moment to look over her shoulder to Kyle, to whom she makes a face. "You serious?" She snorts. "You want me to trade porn for a t-shirt?" Chuckle. "You serious?" Smirk. "Krima, I have clothes back on the ship I can wear. Or not wear. Everyone does. But these vids? Not so much." She turns her attention -- mostly -- back to keeping watch. "Now, if you've got some nice, warm clothes -- you know, a coat or something? -- that's different. That's something I can work with."

"Was worth a shot." Kyle replies, grinning to herself and waving over her shoulder to Charlie. The tarp is set down on a counter near the entrance, where Kyle slides her body down against the wall to glaze over the package of hair ties. "I mean it's a nice tee shirt that can keep you warm at night, Hayes." Kyle teases and dares past the mud on her face to chew on her lip. "I brought a hoodie with me, back at bunk. That's about the warmest thing I've got. Really, I didn't pack much personal shit for this hop. My ass has been whipped around from the moment I got recalled. My care package is waiting for a letter hope to ship out."

"I was out on a mission when the final bombs dropped on Triton," Charlie explains to Lyn in a quiet voice. "So I feel you. And the shops on the Scorpia Shipyards are sorta... sparse in offerings. Then I get to Argentum Bay and just end up drunk." She nudges at the racks and tilts her head towards the outerwear. "C'mon, Chilly asked about a scarf. And there might be folks in want of hats, too. Let's see if they've got anything before we head out."

"I didn't have a reason to by fancy underthings when we were on Scorpia on leave," Lyn admits with a shrug. She follows Charlie to look for outerwear, stomping on a spider that skitters out from under a rack. "Hate those things."

"Costello." Erin draws her attention away from her watch again. "If you want something, just ask, all right?" She lifts an eyebrow. "We've all been there. You know, being new." She shifts a little, and then puts on a smile. "Let's work a bigger trade. I'll take that shirt off you and that hoodie, and I'll split the scotch I've got, and three porn vids." Beat. "I'll show you how to get a few extra rations and fruits from the cafeteria. And, you and me? We can set up our own barter-exchange in the berthings."

"Frak yeah it's hard being the new girl. I'm still feeling first week of school around you guys," Kyle replies with a drawing up of her knee and a flash of teeth towards Erin. "Counter offer." Sitting up, Kyle draws her hands onto her sideways-bent leg and looks up at Erin, two fingers are held up. "Hoodie and shirt for half the scotch and two porn vids that aren't dudes-a-plenti, be my mentor on figuring out this ship life, and then when I write home to my dad and brothers and tell them to sell the package, for the trouble, you get one ask for space in the box." Kyle lifts her brows. "That ain't gonna get me arrested."

"Part of why I prefer southern Picon," Charlie admits to Lyn. "...though it has its own deadly things. But there's just so... many... tiny... spiders everywhere up here." They get to outerwear and it's also fairly picked over, but there are scarves. Most Piconese have plenty of outerwear of their own, after all. At least those living in this region. Charlie starts grabbing a few in different varieties. Including some hats. Like one with earflaps. She sort of grins as she grabs it, holding it up for Lyn to see: "Erin would be adorable in this."

Lyn grabs one made to look like it has racoon ears and eyes on it. "This might be more her style." The little cords have pompoms on the ends. "Come on, I can get that stretcher made before Mercer gets here with Trevor." She heads back to the front, throwing the raccoon hat at the trash panda.

"I'm an awful person to help you get used to life on the boat," says Erin quietly. "Until about a month ago? I didn't fit in anywhere." Shrug. "Still don't, I guess." Her eyelid twitches, and the corner of her mouth pulls up before falling stiffly. "I mean, I learned -- I just watched Wagner. Ingvar. Arda. And I got lucky, I guess, finding someone who -- " She shrugs, smiles for a moment, and then grips her carbine tightly.

"But, it's a deal. If you want. Two vids that aren't full of dudes, half my scotch, for your hoodie and shirt, and -- " Another beat. "Wait, what do you mean by 'space in the box'? That has a lot of meanings, Kriminy."

Kyle narrows one eye to Erin, observing. That's what Recon do. The upward lift of her chin adds a tug of lip to one side. The shrug that follows is bratty, at best, for when the others arrive, Kyle turns her fingers into the universal hand-code for a telephone and waves it around her ear. Call me.

"What'd you guys find?" Kyle keeps her voice low as she stands up, pack and all, and moves over to the counter where the tarp has been set down. "Does that hat have ears on it? D'awww." Kyle juts her lower lip out, leaning to get a better look at it. "How did a year of looting pass that hat up?"

"Maybe. Guess we'll hafta see." Charlie stuffs the spare scarves into her pack quickly, keeping one that mostly-matches the earflap hat out. She follows Lyn back towards the front of the store, rounding out the Fox Force Four grouping once more. The pair of outdoor wear items are held out towards Erin. "Ladies," she greets, upon arrival. "I think our next outing should be for steaks and fine wine, what about you? I have shopped until I dropped." A brief upward quirk of her lips. She's trying to be upbeat, but the weariness is beginning to show. She's likely praying -- as are they all -- for a full day off once they're back on Vanguard.

"It was under an endcap display," Lyn explains. She sits down and sets the poles out, and gets the tarp back from Kyle. She borrows some of Erin's duct tape, and puts it in spots on the edges of the tarp, then pokes holes through it with her combat knife. The tape keeps the holes from getting bigger, and she's able to thread the bungees through them, and around the poles, making a simple stretcher. It takes her a bit, and she's very focused on it, so ignore her.


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