Participants:
| Scene Title | Kit Carson |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Finn and Kara intercept an unexpected visitor to Providence. |
| Date | March 5, 2019 |
Outside of Providence
The late morning air is brisk today, the skies clear. Were it raining, it might be a bit warmer, but the lack of cloud coverage makes it a bit colder. Probably why the lone figure that wanders closer to Providence is bundled up tightly in a warm coat, with the addition of a fur cloak; the cloak isn’t necessary, but will go over well in a trade with someone.
Using a few belts looped through the handle and around their waist, the figure tows a repurposed garden wagon that holds a large cooler and a few piles of furs and other assorted things intended for trade. She even has a single gallon of fuel that she purchased, because who doesn’t need fuel in this day and age? It’s almost impossible to notice the trio of creatures that are currently curled up in the rabbit and squirrel furs — a skunk, a mink, and a weasel all blend in quite nicely.
Clara Winters knows she might not receive a warm welcome for showing up unannounced like this, so a mile out of town, she made it a point to stash her gun and visible knives in the wagon; the only weapon on her person is the knife in her boot that she never goes without. Better yet, to ensure she doesn’t get shot, she has her hands up, only lowering them to push her scarf back up over her nose or to adjust her hood.
Hopefully that will be enough to ensure that whoever greets her won’t immediately kill her.
Kara hadn't known what to think or expect when one of the locals' boys came for her and told her what was coming down the road to Providence. A short, fur-covered traveler toting a wagon was not the sort of unexpected she'd been planning for today. She'd dropped her hammer with a sigh, scooped up her thermos, and had headed to the road to see what was coming.
It's there she stands, coffee in her offhand, light jacket worn against the chill while she squints at the young figure that comes into sight. No alarm has been raised, exactly, life going on behind her in the quiet settlement she stands at a distance from. It certainly doesn't mean she's not alert. Not tense.
Even though she looks unconcerned as she takes a drink, after letting her arm drop down by her side her voice is clear and sharp as she calls out, "Hello there. You lost?""
You know. Politely.
Somewhere off to the side of the road, the low hum of a vehicle can be heard. Eventually, through the closely-packed trees that give the Pine Barrens their name, a small Mule can be seen, driving much too fast, but somehow making its way through the clusters of pines without incident (unless one looks quickly at the little jeep-like, golf-cart-esque vehicle, which is scratched on all sides from too many close calls with too many branches and trunks). The thing bounces along until it pulls up onto the road next to Kara, and the driver gives a grin to his fellow Providence resident and Horsewoman (no apocalypse here, though).
Finn then turns to regard the wagon-toting young woman. “Well, if it isn’t Kit Carson,” he says amiably enough.
People! Clara’s first instinct is to scoot off and hide, but she’s in civilization now, and that probably wouldn’t look too good to the residents. She makes her way closer to Kara, close enough to not have to shout to talk, before reaching up and pulling her hood and scarf down to reveal a rosy face that has been in the cold for two days straight. Weasel smiles, raising a mittened hand toward the woman — and then to the man who joins her.
“If this is Providence, I’m definitely not lost,” she replies in a slightly tired tone, reaching down and undoing the belt that keeps the wagon tied to her for hands-free travel. “I know you guys probably don’t get many intentional traders out here,” she says, setting the handle to rest up against the wagon itself, “but I came to see if anyone might wanna conduct some business.” She emphasizes this by gesturing to the contents of the wagon.
She’s also intensely curious about this place and, if allowed, will likely explore as much as she can in the week she has planned out here, but that’s certainly a secondary priority. With a smile on her face, she studies the welcoming committee; her gaze lingers a bit on Finn.
At Finn's appearance, Kara lifts her thermos in the lackluster approximation of a jovial greeting before looking back to the young woman that reveals herself. Her relaxed nature starts to lax when the name of the settlement is brought up directly — people didn't just come looking for Providence. Not like this. Here was country for people who were pleased enough to be living apart from the rest of civilization, for one reason or another, and most were people who liked it that way.
The munitions chaplain shifts her weight as she takes better stock of the wagon the girl tugs behind her. "You know, it's that way for a reason." she states blithely, head beginning to shake as she looks over the stacks of furs. Even if it was getting closer to spring, they could help with keeping warm until then.
"Where are you coming from, who are you, and what sort of business do you mean to conduct?" The questions are delivered directly, no special considerations in tone afforded due to her youth.
“Unless you shoot lasers out of your eyes or something equally badass, not the smartest trek to be making out this way on your lonesome,” Finn says, glancing at the wagon and appraising the size of the girl, and looking a little doubtful about her ability to keep herself safe.
“Besides us, and we’re not exactly monks out this way,” he adds, then glances at Kara, his eyes widening as he takes a tangent. “Can you imagine me as a monk? I could shave my head, wear a robe all day and sandals… wait. For that last part I might be thinking of The Big Lebowski.”
He turns back to Weasel. “Besides us, there’s some big bad baddies between here and wherever you came from, kid. Not the safest journey to make alone.”
Weasel straightens a bit as Kara asks her questions, meant to imply that she respects the woman and her inquiries. “Coming from the Safe Zone, name’s Clara Winters, and I have a wagon full of stuff, and a few odd jobs that I am particularly suited to to offer the folks who live out here.” She gestures to the wagon. “I have rabbit meat, fish, and a huge pile of rabbit and squirrel pelts, and a little bit of gasoline,” she explains.
Finn’s line of questioning prompts a small smile. “I’m one of those feral Canadians, eh.” She then glances back toward the cart, eyebrows raising expectantly. One of the furs proves to not be a fur, as Pepe Le Pew raises his nose and sniffs a few times, that white and black tail raising up from the blanket of furs he has been enjoying up until now. “This is Pepe Le Pew, he’s my bodyguard. He doesn’t spray unless I ask him to.”
She turns back to Finn. “Jokes aside, I’ve spent a good half of my life roughing it out in the wilderness. I have lots of friends out there. Raccoons and skunks, mostly, but anything that falls into that stinky group of animals tends to be friendly with me.” A shrug shakes the fur cloak out a bit. “And I was raised to be able to defend myself.”
Kara hmphs in amusement at Finn's quips, even as she keeps her attention fully on Clara. The girl's determination is evident immediately, in that she walked from the Safe Zone with that gear on her.
The why behind it is the real question, as far as Kara's concerned. But seeing as the girl hasn't come asking after things of a questionable nature or bearing weapons, there's little room to doubt her reasoning.
Scratch that. She's not bearing traditional weapons.
Kara's brow climbs as she sees the skunk's head pop out, her weight shifting while she stares in its direction. "See, she's got a bodyguard, Finn." she asides blandly, a little too surprised to do much else. Sure, she's heard of animal telepaths. They live with one. But skunks? That was new. And even Kara is prone to surprise.
"So you mean to just trade, not stay?" she asks. The clarification is necessary. "The Safe Zone is a long trip aways, that gas could get you a ride back from us, next time we head out that way." Kara drinks again from her thermos after making the suggestion.
“Oh, Jesus,” says Finn, when the pile of furs suddenly moves and the skunk rears its head. If he were standing and not sitting in the Mule, he probably would have taken two large steps back to put more distance between himself and the stinky critter.
“So I see,” he asides to Kara. “That thing isn’t coming into town proper.” If you can call the settlement a town — it might be a little generous in terminology.
He lets Kara do the questioning, reaching into the Mule’s little glovebox to pull out a flask of something that’s most likely not water, taking a sip before stowing it again.
“Just trade. Maybe stay a few days to recover from the journey — possibly see if I can set up any lines for people who want furs, or if I can help out with anything, whether it’s with my ability or anything else.” She smiles to Kara, leaning against the cart and idly scratching the skunk atop the head.
She nods toward Finn at his mention of the skunk not coming into town, and turns to the little creature. A moment seems to pass between the two, and then she scratches the little creatures under the chin, kisses him on top of the head, and helps him down to the ground. Pepe lets out a sad-sounding squeak, peering at the other two — and then, he quickly scurries off. “He might leave some kits this spring — please don’t kill them.” She smiles after the skunk.
Then, she turns toward the welcoming committee. “I do have a mink and a small weasel with me, as well — I have to insist that they join me. The mink is still recovering from her rescue from a fur farm, and the weasel is still a juvenile.” Reaching into the pile of furs, two more creatures come out — one, what appears to be an enormous brown ferret, shimmies up her arm and drapes over her neck,while the other slips into the pocket of her coat.
Kara’s suggestion draws a nod from the girl; “I might just take you up on that one — as much as I like sightseeing and camping, it would be nice to not be on the road for two days.” She grins widely.
Kara lets out a long exhale, gripping her thermos like she wishes it were the little flask Finn's sipped from. She nods her consent to the trade and nothing else for the time being. "In the future, you work this out with us when we're in town. We're not set up to handle travelers, so don't expect a repeat of this will work in the future." Her hand with the thermos comes out from her side, fingers lifting off it as she makes the gesture. "That's as much as I'll allow. Unless someone invites you back, in which case, you'll be their welcomed guest." She looks back at Finn for his appraisal of the situation, to see if it differs any.
She's started to take a step forward toward the wagon to inspect it for anything unexpected when the other two animals make their appearance. With a frown, she pauses for only a moment before resuming her pace forward. "We hear any complaints about them or you, and you're out without the ride back." Kara advises, giving a skeptical onceover at the additional animals. Probably the first time she's seen a living mink draped around someone's neck.
"You tell me now if there's anything extra I should expect to see in this little carriage of yours, Kit." She heard Clara introduce herself just fine, but there's something to be said for Finn's nickname for the self-described feral Canadian.
The skunk following orders seems to impress Finn, as his brows lift and his gaze follows the black-and-white creature’s path into the wilderness.
“Sorry. We got a few black and white cats around, and you know, can’t have Pepe making trouble. We don’t stand for that sort of thing,” he jokes. When more creatures are unveiled from the pile of furs, he watches for signs of more to come. “Regular menagerie you got there.”
As Kara lays out the parameters for the visitor’s stay, Finn nods in agreement, adding, “There’s a reason we’re here in the backside of nothing in BFE,” he says to Weasel. He keeps his eyes on the wagon, one hand moving to his holster, ready to draw, if anything suddenly jumps out to attack his fellow Providencian.
“You won’t hear anything about these three,” she gestures after Pepe, then to the creatures that have taken up residence on her. “They’re bonded to me.” She lets it go unspoken that they’re better friends to her than most people are.
Finn’s joke actually gets her, and Clara can’t help but chuckle, shaking her head for a moment. He gets it.
“A loaded handgun and a few knives. Nothing else that should surprise you, no more creatures or anything,” she assures Kara, nodding toward the wagon; she’s welcome to search it if she likes. She nods in the general direction of Providence, or what she assumes is the direction the small civilization is located. “If you have any raccoon problems, I can get rid of them for you.” She nods. “As a bonus, Minerva and Ron here can help get rid of rats, as well as rabbits.” It’s easy to assume that they do so as directed by her.
She doesn’t seem to mind the nickname. Who knows, maybe she’ll adopt a new one — Weasel is a bit juvenile, but she’s definitely not a Clara.
And a good thing the weapons were mentioned, as they're found right away. Kara looks down at the handgun, sliding the clip out and emptying the chamber when that's done before handing the weapon back over to its owner. "This stays with us until you go," she holds up the clip indicatively before slipping it into the pocket of her jacket. The rest of the contents are patted down, the cooler opened and shut before Kara comes back to her feet, sweeping up her thermos again.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get out of this cold." she announces casually. When she turns back toward the Mule, Kara nods once at Finn. All clear. "Let's figure out where we're sticking you while you're here."