Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

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Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Fri Apr 03, 2015 9:37 pm

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“Oh come on!” Juniper exclaimed as she jumped down from a plump boulder. Her feet stuck to the ground with a soft thud and a mist of dust twirled up around her knees. In front of her was, well, nothing. But just a moment before was a fat prairie dog popping his head out of his tunnel, teasing at the poor huntress. Juniper had never been very good with a bow. A gun she could do, and she could do it well, but not this flimsy cord and a pointed stick. She rolled her eyes in frustration after seeing her nubby arrow sticking into the ground. Juniper had been trying to get some kind of meat for over a week now. Juniper was getting sluggish without a proper balance of nutrients and she needed to have a sharp mind and quick body out here. She had always been told that the outside was dangerous, but she had never understood that until now.

There were lonely travelers who would do anything for a warm body and men who broke down the doors of helpless families to steal whatever they could find. The young blonde hadn’t had any encounters with those sorts of people, but she had seen them from afar. It wouldn’t be too long until someone would find her too. After all, she was staying in an upright cabin in the middle nowhere. No fence, no dogs, no nothing. All she had done was set up a juvenile booby-trap at the front entrance of her place and dug a couple holes that were stuffed with tumbleweeds. Her trap was a bucket of sand, which would really do nothing more than temporary blind the intruder and perhaps make them angry. As for the holes, they might break an ankle or two. Her current abode was far from the safest place to live, but she didn’t want to test her luck with finding a new shelter. Juniper had a hard enough surviving thus far.

Her boots stomped right up to the prairie dog’s tunnel, she grabbed the arrow that was stuck in the dirt and muttered “stupid rodent.” She tucked the arrow back into her makeshift quiver and looked up at the sky. It was clear day and surprising cool for late August, but this day was finding its end. Juniper let out a shallow sighed, she was at least a couple miles off from her cabin. Better start making the hike now.




Juniper could see her cabin in the horizon as dusk arrived. While looking for any signs of entry or stupidity she finally made it inside the front door. Nothing seemed to have changed, and everything that she stored in the secret compartment under a loose floorboard was intact.

Doing anything this late always put Juniper on edge. Sure, during the day someone could see her chimney smoke, but at night they could see her light. And seeing a light off in the distance was much more reliable than seeing a cluster of grey smoke. Begrudgingly, Juniper lit a dim candle as she chowed on some canned beans. Lazily she sat on her bed and grabbed her journal from under the mattress. Her pencil scribbled furiously as she wrote about her unsuccessful hunting, the inevitable loneliness she felt, and expressed her gratitude for this little cabin she lived in.

When Juni was first brought to this cabin there was already a pipe stove, a crooked wooden chair and a dusty old bed that creaked. There was an old carpet that she found a couple miles east in the center of the tiny place, a collection of kitchen supplies, a chest under her bed that held someone’s lost clothing and a variety of fabrics and blankets. All she did for herself was set up a water collecting and filtration system, something that she learned in school, and added her personal items to the mix.

Her backpack hung on a hook next to the door and a loose floorboard near the stove held a collection of her valuable items. Inside was her gun with a round of bullets, a rare Polaroid that Juniper and Luke had managed to snap together, another picture of her parents, some medical supplies, and an emergency stash of canned goods and drinking water.




Juniper had fallen asleep. The candle burned low and an impression of her journal had made the side of her face numb. She woke to the sound of people. Instantly she blew out the candle, not that it was giving off much light. “Shit.” She said, moving quickly to the floorboard. The voices grew louder, boisterous and full of sarcasm. Juni listened to them. It sounded like a group of men. They were scavengers. “Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered frantically while having a hard time lifting the floorboard up. Juniper needed a game plan. She couldn’t afford to just give them everything, but if she fought back they would probably hurt her, or worse.

“Your turn,” she heard one of them say. Before she had time to get her gun, let alone load the blasted thing, the door handle turned. Instinctually she grabbed the closest thing to her that might pass for a weapon. With a large wooden spoon in her hand and a face of sheer terror she watched as a man opened the door.

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Sun May 17, 2015 6:03 pm

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Everything had become a blur to him in the past few months. Kansas. Wagon trouble. Fights breaking out. Family to protect.

There was nothing wished more than to shut off and do absolutely nothing but drink, smoke and forget about the stretches of abandoned wasteland—wasteland that used to be towns and cities bustling and filled with life—before them. There was nothing to be had other than the more rogue scavengers hiding out in the deepest corners of the city, ready to prowl on the next unsuspecting person innocently—naïvely—passing through. Everywhere they went, the remnants of the triages and quarantine zones remained. Others had taken to using the metal frames of tents and draping them with whatever material they could find just to call it home. Some scavenged materials and made flimsy houses. Some gathered all these houses and made settlements of their own, assuming they could come to some agreement without killing each other. Before the settlement they had briefly decided to live in, aptly named 'Temp' (short for 'Temporary'), they had stayed in four or five other such settlements, and in not one of them did he find the stability that he knew the other two main members of his party—his sister and his brother-in-law—needed, but then it wasn't entirely surprising. There was no President of the United States. There was no United States. There was only every man for himself.

They fashioned a tent for themselves by the outskirts of Temp, not having much choice with the very little space near the town centre to reside in. Ginny, for a time, was without work until an opportunity for her to advertise her repair services was made known, and bided the time they had left before the dump fell into complete hell mending clothes and shoes for the general populace. Payment made was in kind. Owen, on the other hand, sometimes accompanied him on the safer haunts outside the town hunting animals. Occasionally, he saved the odd person he assessed wasn't a threat to them. Usually they were of no consequence to him and he simply took on his brother’s workload and allowed him to attend to them like the good Samaritan he was, but one interesting incident a few weeks prior served as a grand exception.

A young woman was passed out in the middle of nowhere when Owen quickly spotted her and rushed over. He had taken the liberty of bringing back supplies to help her and moved her to an abandoned shack in order to recuperate. It took them a few returns to the shack taking care of the delirious and very clearly dehydrated woman. With their move to the town of Temp necessitating a change in path, they never quite had the time to check on how she was doing. Deciding it was unimportant for now, Rob set the thoughts of her aside.

“Oh, fucking finally.” Rob held up the cigarette between his fingertips. He smiled, placing the freshly-rolled cigarette between his lips.

“Yeah. Got this all the way from Colombia. Passed hands quite a number of times but we managed to get some right here.” One of his associates, a tall yet stocky Hispanic man reached over and lit it for him, smirking at the sight of him relaxing for the first time since they began their haunt through the neighbouring towns. “Haven’t had one in a while, huh?”

He shook his head and took another puff, blowing smoke rings into the sultry air. “Not since the trouble with the pharms. Old Paris was a fuckin’ disaster, I tell you. One of the boys got a little too handsy with one of the locals. Sik here gave him the beating of a lifetime, ain’t that right?” His eyebrows waggled at a severe-looking man in his thirties focused on the road ahead of them. “Sik’is.”

“You don’t treat women like that,” Sik’is grunted through his teeth. “Not in civilized society.”

“Hate to break it to you but we don’t exactly count as civilized society.” Sik’is merely shook his head at him and carried on walking with them.

Rob had been engrossed with the cigarette and catching up with his associates that he failed to notice that he was leading them through the path he and Owen had previously went on. Somehow, unconsciously he managed to trail his way back to it so that when he caught sight of the familiar abandoned house, his eyebrows raised. His associates caught sight of this and raised their own eyebrows in turn. “Caught sight of something, friend?”

“There’s a house there.”

“So?”

“Go to the house, then! It’s your turn to do sweeps.”

Rob shot them a look but quickly let it drop the moment he turned away. He walked into the shack and closed the door after him quickly, sawed-off shotgun at the ready, half-expecting her still there and half-expecting her to be well. What he didn’t expect to see were the contents of a bucket of sand being unloaded on top of his head.

He stiffened and closed his eyes as quickly as he realised it was sand, and when it was over, he merely laughed in amusement at the failed distraction and, once his vision cleared up, the sight of the woman in defensive position.

“What? A spoon?” he managed to cough out, dusting himself off.

“Hey! Rob, you find anything?”

“Still lookin’! Hold your ponies!” He looked her over and smirked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Last edited by wednesdaysun on Mon May 18, 2015 5:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Mon May 18, 2015 9:56 am

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There was no comfort in the fact that her booby-trap worked. Mostly because she had never actually planned what she was going to do after the waterfall of sand hit the victim. It wasn't like the sand was poisonous or sharp, it was just an annoying decoy. Juniper was white knuckled and the anticipation had sucked the air out of her. She was out of her league in the desert, sure she was tough in Dust but nothing could have prepared her for the wasteland that the rest of the world was.

It was like puff of black smoke, the way that the sand rolled off of the predator, bursting into large swirls. Once the majority of the cloud had quickly vanished she saw a mischievous look on a familiar face. Juniper couldn't quite place where she had seen or met this man but she remembered those freckles, even if they were plastered with dust. Perhaps it had all been a dream. Then he laughed, and because she felt so foolish Juniper couldn't help but chuckle herself. Their light hearted moment was interrupted by the shout of another man outside. This voice reminded her of the actual danger she faced.

"I- I have a gun," Juniper said urgently. While keeping her eyes on him she took a stumbled couple of steps back toward where her gun was tucked away. If he made some kind of advance she would surely have enough to at least hit him across the head with the spoon and grab her gun.

“Still lookin’! Hold your ponies!” He looked her over and smirked. Juniper stopped, her hand now resting on the hidden pistol, and took a moment to stare at him as he did nothing. Why was he doing this? Or rather, why wasn't he doing anything at all? It didn't make sense.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Juniper was lost for words; she literally had no idea what to say to this man. Was he just going to leave her be? Or was he going to come back to try and enjoy her without his friends? The second thought made her stomach drop. Was the world outside of Dust so corrupted that men just had whoever they wanted? There were too many questions that Juniper didn't know how to answer, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

In their silence Juniper slowly shook her head, her big eyes widening as she spoke. "I won't tell," she said in a breathless voice. Her mind was scattered, but her smarter instincts kicked in. Suddenly she stood up and started opening the drawers of a little dresser, making some noise. She then went over to the chest under the bed and opened it, rummage through it, and then closed it. And stepped on the creaky floor board as she went to her secret stash of canned goods. With two cans of beets in her hands she tossed them to the man.

"Don't want your friends to think you just stood there staring at a pretty girl," Juniper whispered, her eyes sparkling with cleverness. She didn't trust this man yet, but she needed some way to make him trust her.
Last edited by supertoastgirl on Fri May 22, 2015 7:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Tue May 19, 2015 8:47 am

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"Don't want your friends to think you just stood there staring at a pretty girl."

Interesting. Pretty Girl had a mouth on her. That was liveable.

However, she still appeared quite vulnerable, if her clutching onto the wooden spoon like her life depended on it was any indication. The physical weakness he saw in her as Owen nursed her back to health was mostly gone but, of course, she looked like she could do with a bit more water in her and didn't appear to be in any state to defend herself—and certainly not with a weak mêlée weapon. While she did have a gun, and she was moving towards it increasingly, he was confident about the chance of her not actually being brave enough to shoot but if she did, he knew precisely how to get to her.

For now, the best way to help with this situation was to avoid getting shot. The last thing he needed right now was to be riddled with bullets and, should he survive, to incur the wrath of his brother-in-law by indirectly causing Pretty Girl's death. His other associate Carlos, unfortunately, was not adverse to attacking and killing women if he perceived them as a potential threat to him and his associates. Her death would be on his hands and the last thing he needed was for someone to lose their trust for him over it.

While her muttering her agreement with his short terms was to be expected considering her fear and the fact that she wanted to scramble away as far as she probably could, considering him a threat, she caught him off guard by pretending to search the premises. He could only imagine how his associates would react to the noises while they waited outside. He caught the two cans of beets and after some thought as he stared at the somewhat faded label on them, he decided to set one aside. He bent down, eyes on her all the while as he set the can on the wooden floor and away from the view of the door and quickly got back up.

"Ain't no use having you die out here. Pretty girls need to eat," he winked before he made his exit, shutting the door behind him with a slam.

He was greeted with expectant glances.

"Well?"

"Beets." Rob tossed the can Carlos's way, the latter catching it as gracelessly as he usually did with the can landing in the dust. "You gonna pick it up?"

"Hey, cabrón, don't think you've got the right to be cocky just because you got a Colombian coffin nail."

The two simply sniggered at the half-fuming man as they stalked away from the shack. He didn't dare spare another glance at it, not while he had company.

____________________________________________


Moths took to the small lamp flame in their makeshift home. Inside, Ginny sat by the stopgap firelight, working her way through a small pile of clothes to be mended. The two men were sitting outside, their only defense against the cold the steady fire they sat next to.

Robin decided to break the companionable silence. "I saw her."

"Saw who?"

"The girl." He frowned at Owen's confusion. "Blondie."

It took Owen a moment to remember before he smiled, though that quickly dropped. "In what state?"

"Alive. Definitely alive. Threatened to attack me with a wooden spoon." Robin laughed to himself, shaking his head at the memory of how ridiculous she looked cowering near the back of the shack. "She's quite clever, if you get to know her better."

"Just how long did you get to know her?"

"All of five minutes." Both men laughed, Owen shaking his head at his brother-in-law.

The older man waggled his eyebrows at him. "Want to get to know her more, do you?"

____________________________________________


The next day saw his return with a knapsack full of supplies and water.

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Tue May 19, 2015 6:57 pm

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Juniper watched with curious eyes as the man with freckles looked the can of beets over. The label had the color sucked out of it by the sun years ago; what used to be a deep purple image was now a pasty pink color. Juni kept her attention on him, slightly more trusting as her hand drew itself away from the gun she was crouched over. Was he dissatisfied with her poor selection in food? Maybe. Beets weren't exactly the most pleasant canned goods. Her blue orbs stayed in contact with his green eyes as he bent down and set the can away from the door. Again Juni stayed silent, unsure if she should thank him or not.

"Ain't no use having you die out here. Pretty girls need to eat," with that comment he gave her a wink and took his exit. Ready to argue with him she bounced forward, but before she could anything out of her dry mouth he was gone. For the next moment Juniper was as still as statue, perched over her prized possessions. She didn’t dare move, not until what noises of the ragtag men were completely gone. Juniper let out a huff of air once the silence eclipsed her. The blonde spent the rest of the evening tucked in bed, pistol close at hand, and her ears open wide.



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A smirk colored Juniper’s dirty face when she saw that aluminum can of beets in the middle of the floor the next day. She didn’t want to move the can from its peculiar spot, it reminded her of something. What exactly it reminded her of, she wasn’t quite sure.

Waking up early from a tireless night made Juniper wiry and unfocused. What could have been a successful hunting trip turned into a frustrated pity party. Part way through her unfruitful adventure Juniper decided to just go home. She had managed to set a couple of half-assed traps, but was completely futile with her bow and arrow. Partly from poor construction and with less than adequate training, Juniper had only managed to scratch a small snake a couple miles back.

Her mess of blonde locks were tangled with the mixture of dust and sweat and her face was just as bad. Her crystal blue irises were the only part of her delicate face that looked healthy. Underneath them laid large dark circles from exhaustion, and a couple of careless bruises and scratches played with her generally clear complexion. Juniper looked like a sore version of her former Dust self. In town she had a semi-proper shower, soap, and just general goods.

A long hike home made Juniper believe that she was seeing things when she made out a figure marching toward her doorstep. “Goddamn it,” she mumbled under her breath and she picked up her speed and jogged toward her place. Juniper was more prepared than last time, having set up her booby-trap with rocks. And push came to shove, her bow and arrow at least looked intimidating when drawn. Getting closer she recognized the man; it was Freckles. A little taken aback but mostly pissed off Juniper drew her bow, making it look more powerful and threatening than it actually was.

“Hey!” She called, coming up from behind. “What do you think you’re doing?” Juniper spied the knapsack. Yes, of course, Freckles only kept her alive so that he could keep tabs on her. That way he’d be able to rob her while she wasn’t looking. When she finally got a good look at him Juniper cocked her head, she knew him. Those freckles were somewhere in her head, but she didn’t know how or why. Juniper remembered the man who brought her back to life; he was brunette and scruffy, nothing like this gingery man in front of her.

Juniper took an inappropriate moment to look Freckles over. He was rigid and tough looking, but not without those quirky spots. His nose was generally straight, but with a crooked plump part at the end. His cheeks were sunken in and that mop of auburn hair atop his head was just as messy as his attitude. Her hand relaxed as her stomach tumbled and her senses realizing that he was an attractive man, very attractive indeed. Juni cleared her throat and shook her head.

“Pretty girls don’t like thieves.”
Last edited by supertoastgirl on Fri May 22, 2015 7:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Tue May 19, 2015 8:13 pm

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Rob had to ensure that he wasn't followed throughout the walk there but today he caught a lucky break. Both Sik'is and Carlos were in two different hunting parties and wouldn't be back until late at night, and his other associates were, thankfully, two neighboring settlements away. If they did come, at least he had a some semblance of a reputation in the southwestern area to keep anyone else at bay.

The crunch of rocks behind him alerted him to her presence. He might have jumped at the sight of the bow but the arrow he was sure she was going to use on him was nowhere in sight. Rob merely sighed and, heedless of the possibility that she could draw one at any time, shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation and turned around to face her properly. The whole thing was made even stranger by the fact she gave a delayed threat. He raised an eyebrow at the thought of her possibly giving him that sort of a once-over.

“Pretty girls don’t like thieves.”

"Momma taught me not to steal," he smirked, shrugged off his knapsack and tossed it towards her. "Go on. Look inside."

____________________________________________


Ginny rushed about, gathering some of the surplus food items they had lying around their premises with a smile. She placed them in Robin's old knapsack, occasionally stopping to think what else she should have him bring.

"All right, so there's some of the extra corn pone from yesterday in there—"

"You said you'd set some aside!" Rob gave her a look of mock displeasure and earned a smack on the arm.

"It's in the bread box." She carried on taking mental note of the contents of the bag. "Some canned goods, and a few bags of water. That should be good enough."

____________________________________________


"Nothin' but food and water, Pretty Girl."

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Tue May 19, 2015 9:31 pm

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Freckles' sigh had Juniper narrowing her eyes. He thought this was totally ridiculous, she could see that much. There wasn't an ounce in his body that was taking her seriously right then and that made Juniper mad. Sure, she was new at this whole wilderness survival thing but she wasn't a joke. Juniper had always had a knack for the survival classes in school and she was quick thinking, or at least those were the things that she attributed to why she should be successful in the wilderness. Though the fact that he seemed more amused by her than annoyed was hopeful. If Freckles had thought her completely stupid then he would be there for all the wrong reasons.

When he finally spoke and plopped the sack onto the dry ground Juniper stepped forward. Cautiously she lowered the bow and poked the arrow that she had inside the sack. He was right, nothing but goods. Juniper looked at the plentiful food and freshwater. Just the idea of water made Juniper thirsty. She had put together a poor water filter and collector, but its profits were not enough for her daily intake. Her eyes flicked up to his face, then back down again for a split second. A final time Juniper returned his gaze and took another trusted step forward.

"I'm sorry," she finally spoke, "I only accept fruit baskets for apologies." Her face was stoic for about two seconds before it blossomed into a grin. Accompanied by a soft laugh, thinking herself funny, Juniper relaxed into the situation. Truth was she had never actually seen a fruit basket or known anyone to receive one, it was one of those old world luxuries.

Juniper was just stubborn enough that she didn't really feel like accepting his favors. She felt confident that eventually she would kill something to eat. It wouldn't be long before she would be feeding herself well. She just needed a little more practice. Juniper wasn't sure if Freckles felt bad or her, but she didn't need his pity food! However... If it was just a friendly offering she probably wouldn't refuse.

Enough trust had been acquired that Juniper decided to be civil with Freckles, if not friendly. Her feet picked themselves up and she opened the door into the little shack. Half inside and still keeping an eye on him she hung up her bow and arrow on a lopsided nail.

Stepping into the doorway and leaning against its wobbly edge Juniper crossed her arms. Trying to look less like the fool she had already proved to be she spoke again,

"So you got a name, or what?"
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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Wed May 20, 2015 8:08 am

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He picked up the knapsack as she passed by and made what seemed to be an old reference to something. Fruit was, unfortunately, a rare treat in a place like that. If they wanted more of it, they would head into the woods, and travelling all the way back to wooded areas where some of the smugglers resided was not something he was willing to do. He peered inside at the corn pone, slightly tempted to steal even just a bite of it, when Pretty Girl asked for his name.

"A name?" Rob slipped the bag over his shoulder and shrugged. "Rob." She'd called him a thief earlier, too.

"Now, I know your momma didn't name you Pretty Girl. Otherwise, I'd feel real sorry for ya. A name for a name."

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Wed May 20, 2015 8:50 am

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Freckles had a real name and that didn't sit well with Juniper. She didn't like the way it was so ordinary, she had been expecting something a little more... wild, I suppose. Without much thought Juni gave him a look, almost as if she didn't believe him.

"Rob?" she prodded, "Like, Robert?"

With those questions she straightened herself up and stepped aside in invite him in, the most welcoming gesture she was capable of having in this state. With his next comment Juniper smiled half-heartedly. A name for a name seemed fair enough.

"Pretty Girl is only my middle name," she joked, taking a step inside. The shack wasn't much cooler than the brutal heat of the outside, but it sheltered her from he blare of the sun. Something that she needed to be more aware of, especially with such a low supply of water.

"Juniper," she finally said, finding it strange to introduce herself. It was a rare occasion for a Dustie to introduce themselves, after all they were secluded to their own community. Outside communication was rare, and even impossible for the overly-protected children. Juniper had once been one of those children, but she had managed to wander into the wilderness a couple of times in her younger teen years. Those adventures never proved fruitful in the way of people though.

Impatiently Juniper spoke again, "You going to come inside or do you need a proper invitation?"
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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Wed May 20, 2015 9:36 am

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"Rob? Like Robert?"

"No. Ro-bin. Like the bird."

Rob stopped himself for a moment—a moment which, had he been his regular, defensive self, he might have scolded himself for—to think about why his parents had named him that in the first place. He remembered sitting down in the small sitting room after dinner when he was much younger, before he had been sent to work in the field much like his parents and older sister did. It had been a very old story from another country, he recalled, set somewhere deep in the middle of a forest. The man had a ragtag group defying the incumbent ruler who was, by all intents and purposes, a cruel and irresponsible one. The tales were blurred; a distant memory that somehow still stood out where he kept most of his hope. Perhaps it might have explained his choice in occupation, however terrible it was most days.

There was no room for something as naïve as hope once one was out in the wilderness. There was only luck.

He straightened himself out yet somehow retained his level of comfort around her—Juniper, she had said her name was. He tipped his hat at the reception his host had given him.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Again, he stepped into the familiarity of the dilapidated shack and, to his amusement, the can of beets were still on the ground. As soon as he could see that she wasn't backing near any corners or walls or scrambling to find a weapon—or wooden spoon—he set the knapsack down, emptying its contents and setting them down on an old wooden table.

"I'm guessin' you got questions. Who am I? How come I come here and give you these things? Are these peace offerings or a way to lull you into a false sense of security? Did I really come here to steal all your..." He scoped the spartan room with its dearth of personal touch. "Prized possessions?"

He set the corn pone the last onto the table and set the water somewhere dry and relatively clean.

"You're in luck 'cause I bring answers. I ain't here to steal anything from ya. Not your life or your cheapjack bed. I'm extendin' help from your... let's call him guardian angel, shall we?"

Rightfully so, he thought to himself, seeing as he was his antithesis.

It took a while for him to speak again, this time taking off and slowly lowering his sawed-off shotgun holster from around his waist. If they were going to have decent conversation, they were going to do it without the guns.

"He took care of ya. Brought you the supplies and took care of ya while I waited. Stood guard for him. He's too damn soft to land a punch on anyone and his wife know it."

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Wed May 20, 2015 11:35 am

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Juniper had never actually seen a robin, but from what she remembered from a wildlife book they were somewhat orange. After a moment, she decided that the name suited him. Subconsciously Juniper also made the connection with Robin Hood, but she didn't say anything.

As Robin spoke she nodded her head in agreement. Yes, she did want to know who he was and why he been so... Benevolent. Juniper also wanted to know why he had broken into her shack and then quickly retreated. All of these bothersome ideas were answered once he continued. Juni kept a fairly good get up, keeping her body at its usual slanted angles and her face reacting to everything he said. Honestly, she was much more relaxed in the presence of another human, but she also didn't want to let her guard down too quickly. There were horror stories about this sort of thing from where she came from.

"I'm extendin' help from your... let's call him guardian angel, shall we?"

This made Juniper perk up. She knew for a fact that she was beyond helping herself when she was out in the middle of nowhere, but she had never expected to see, let alone speak with her good samaritan. Or at least his wingman. It all made sense now, the freckles and her feeling like she knew him. Though Robin had never worked directly with her when she was ill, she remembered his checking in and his wittiness with the other man. Juniper swayed from side to side uncomfortably, now feeling shame for being so hostile.

It seemed like Freckles was going to make a habit of making Juniper speechless. That bothered her, she was always the girl with the right line and he had managed to make her seem slower than a doornail. Juni took note of his lowered weapon, and somehow she marked that as a gesture of friendship or at least friendliness.

"Sorry, but you don't seem like the kind of man who rescues dying women," Juniper pointed out. She knew his story was true, with the memories slowly coloring themselves, but there was something about him that was sour. But perhaps that's why Juniper was so intrigued, any normal person would have thanked him and sent him on his way. But not Juni, she wanted him to stay.

"With your smuggling buddies and breaking into lonely shacks and all." Juniper stepped forward and scanned over the food that was on the table. She counted a couple cans of food, some stale jerky, and corn pone, along with a couple jugs of water. Juniper wondered if he belonged to some kind of town like Dust or if he was just remarkably handy... or handsy.

She took it upon herself to open some water and take a couple of more than proper sips. Juniper was dying to chug the water down in front of her, but she didn't want to appear desperate. "Where'd you get all this stuff anyway?" She asked casually, now grabbing a bite of the corn pone. It was good, really good actually.
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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Wed May 20, 2015 9:52 pm

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"Sorry, but you don't seem like the kind of man who rescues dying women. With your smuggling buddies and breaking into lonely shacks and all."

He wasn't about to deny anything about her assessment of him. He wasn't the hero type; that was Owen's schtick. Still, he chuckled at her at least getting that right about him and snuck a bite of food.

"Where'd you get all this stuff anyway?"

"Hm," he hummed in acknowledgment of the question before gulping down the food. "I ain't always a thief. We pick this up as we go. General stores, some of the time barterin' stolen military rations; gifts from a couple of generous strangers; old convenience stores that haven't been cleared out all that damn well; farmers. Some of the time we make it ourselves, like the pone."

He rolled his eyes at the teasing Ginny would probably give him—assuming Owen told her about his curiosity.

"The only real reason why I'm behavin' myself," he said with a small smirk, "is because of the sister and brother-in-law. Pretty fuckin' glad she got married to the samaritan and not some good-for-nothin' drunk. They wander out from time to time but not as much as I do. Owen comes with me to stretch his legs, sometimes saves people."

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Wed May 20, 2015 11:15 pm

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Juniper leaned against the old wooden table as she listened to him, the slabs of oak gently creaking under the pressure. She took a couple more sips of water, feeling its slow regenerating quality seep into her. It was good to have water like this again. Clean water, one of the only things that she missed about Dust. There she had access to a good supply of filtered water, and out here she was limited whatever poor quality water she could collect.

Finally she sat, sticking her leg on top of a matching wooden chair and letting it fold underneath her. The other leg hung haphazardly over the edge and she slouched back into the chair, letting herself put a little trust in Freckles. While he spoke Juni gathered that if not for his sister and good two-shoe brother-in-law he'd be a rotten apple. That said something about a person, the way that they adapted because and or for the people around them.

"Ah," Juniper mused, "You'd better stay away from me then." With a soft chuckle she continued, "I may be pretty on the outside, but my heart's as black as night." With that comment she took another bite of the corn pone. More curious than cautious she went on to ask him another question.

"You from around here? Or are you one of those Outlanders?" Juniper looked at his sawed off shotgun, then back at his face. He seemed too smart and skilled to be someone from the Outlands. Most people who came from what used to be California, Oregon, and Idaho struggled to survive in these parts. Those northerners were most equip for the forest and usually died of dehydration before they could say Mojave Desert.

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby wednesdaysun on Sat May 23, 2015 12:56 pm

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It had taken him minutes but he decided to himself that maybe he just might be able to bear her company, and only until she was recovered enough to get off his and Owen's backs. She was a conundrum to him. Black-hearted, she called herself and yet there was little of it in the lightness of her features or the mannerisms she displayed. There was something in the flaxen-haired woman before him that reminded him of his sister—or, rather, the kindness she usually displayed when he wasn't being tiresome.

Then he reminded himself that, being in the middle of nowhere, he had to keep his guard up. He shook away the thinking and distracted himself by stealing another bite.

"You from around here? Or are you one of those Outlanders?"

"Wyoming. We lived out on a prairie. My sister and I grew up on a farm but it ain't worth much if you can't keep your crops or your animals alive long. It ain't as dry as it is out here, that's for sure." He sighed, fiddling with his father's compass in his pocket. "Once they up and left this earthly plane, there didn't seem to be any point in stayin'. The place was fallin' apart and there wasn't a place we could get good supplies that wasn't one or two days' trip away on horseback. It was either the forest or this, and I went with the desert thinkin' the prospects would be better in the bigger cities. We'd had word that people were... workin' on pharms to try and suppress symptoms out in what used to be the bigger cities down in California."

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Re: Dust Origins: Juniper Jacobs and Robin Braddock

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby supertoastgirl on Sat May 23, 2015 8:18 pm

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"Ah," Juniper said as she listened to Robin tell his story. Wyoming. From what she could remember form school that was northeast, and quite far. It must have been a hell of a trek to get down here all in one piece. Juniper wondered why anyone would choose to live down in the desert over the forest, aside from it's isolation from the disease it was a hard place to live. Then Robin answered her question. The cities were the big enticement, with their pharms and supplies. Juniper nodded her head like she understood all of this, as if going into the cities was a marvelous idea. In actuality though, Juniper's sequestered life made her understanding of him hard.

"Wyoming," she finally said, "that's pretty far away." Juniper really couldn't fathom how far away Wyoming was, mostly because she had only ventured from Dust in a 10 mile radius. Her left hand scratched behind her ear at a pesky scab that was healing the head wound she got before Owen found her. Thinking about geography Juniper asked another question. "Did you go into Las Vegas?"

A wall in the main lobby of Dust was scattered with post cards from all across the country. It was some kind of memorabilia to what used to be. Most of the little cards were scribbled on and personally addressed, but in the town hall they were something of a museum for those who had never and would never see the what the world was like before Dust. On that wall were a couple of post cards from Las Vegas, some with the neon sign, and others with the prime buildings of the city.

Juniper had always wanted to visit Las Vegas, though she was sure that after decades of destruction it was no where near its glory days. The blonde took another bite of corn pone, enjoying every fiber that she ingested. "I've always wanted to go into city," Juniper started, letting her mouth run. "But of course there's all the danger of raiders and the disease... So it seems I'm stuck in the desert for now." Juni had never realized how sheltered she was until just then. She knew plenty of things about the world, or at least what the world used to be, but she had never actually experienced it. The textbooks and non-fiction section of the library were more like holy writings than her actual bible, and she was working off of blind faith.

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