| Looting |
| Summary: | Van leads a team to loot a police station and home in Knossos. |
| Date: | 09 Dec 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Nothing really. |
| Players: |
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| Knossos |
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| Setpose forthcoming. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #286 |
As Van had told Robinson at the bar, some things just couldn't be denied approval. Especially when you spin it as a mission of requirement. Because, you know, civilian wardrobes are a requirement, damnit! But the first order of business is raiding a police station. The Raptor dropped off a slew of teams and some of them have already spread out to the nearby neighborhoods. Those with Natalie, though, are hitting Knossos District Twelve Police Station. Being the middle of the day, lighting inside shouldn't be too bad but the Lieutenant has her flashlight out anyway. "Our first priority is to get firearms or ammunition," she begins, leading them across the parking lot towards the shattered glass doors. The outside of the brick building is completely pock-marked with bullet holes. "Other than guns, take anything of value that you can find. Things like computers are worthless. We're looking for supplies for the Marines and any potential civilian police force. Don't touch any bodies if you can help it, too." She reaches into her pocket and produces a small white hankey, placing it over her nose and mouth as they come to the door.
Exploring for clothes and other such supplies. Who could ask for a better task? At least they aren't being shot at…at the moment, anyway. Robinson is happy with that prospect. Although, she does have have her medical kit with her just in case. "No touching of the dead bodies? Are you sure, sir? That sounds like a job for me. I might be able to sift through their uniforms for supplies. Bullets, guns, what-have-you." She says as she looks around.
Whatever works. Lun's effectively towards the bottom of the officerial totem poles and glad to get out now and then - while not being in charge. She nods. "Aye aye sir." Lunair frowns and pulls out her hanky as well. "Hmmm." Lunair is quiet though, strangely colored eyes peering here and there.
"You can as long as you are wearing gloves. Lunair? Keep your paws off." Vandenberg flashes a smile to the Jig as she pulls open the door and leads the two others inside. Its dark past the entrance. The front desk is completely shredded to the ground by heavy gunfire, the plastic from the computer reduced to shards. The Lieutenant flicks on the flashlight and sweeps it around the inside. Its about then that the smell hits: Death. Its not so bad at the door where a breeze will take it. But inside with the still air? Its enough to tickle the gag reflex in some people. Natalie sets down her flashlight to tie the hankey around her head like a bandana. Plucked back up, she leads the pair around a corner and further into the station where it opens up into a much larger room. There aren't a lot of dead bodies here, but those that are seemed to have belonged here. Five of the six are uniformed sheriffs deputies. One is slumped at a desk. The other five people are sprawled on the floor. "Gods," Natalie breathes. She sweeps the flashlight across the room and stops at a hallway. "You guys head down there and check it out. Open every door. See what you can find. I'll take the other hallway." She's nearly whispering as if afraid to wake the dead.
Robinson almost does gag at the smell of the dead bodies, but is quick to pull out a hankie of her own and tie it around her mouth…for all the help it really does. Putting her medical kit down, but keeping her rifle slung over her shoulder, she leans down and opens the kit up, taking out a couple of gloves. Pulling them on and closing up the kit (and slinging it over her shoulder once more), she looks around at the dead bodies. "I'll check these bodies on the way out." She states, wanting to check the rest of the building first.
Lunair blinks, looking almost offended for a moment. As if she'd! Really now. She just nods. She winces at the smell, glad she brought her kerchief out for all the good it does. She slips out a tiny flashlight, and nods. "Do you want to go this way or that?" Asking softly, as if seeing if Robinson prefers to split up or go together.
Vandenberg disappears down the opposite hallway, taking the light with her. The Lieutenant is walking softly as she moves. She can be heard opening a few doors and rummaging around. The other dark hallway awaits.
Robinson clears hear throat as she looks at Lunair, tilting her head a little. "I umm…let's go together, hmm? Down that hallway." She points down the initial hallway they were point down. She would smile…but the smile wouldn't exactly be seen.
Lunair nods at that, "Sure thing." Lunair's tiny flashlight is the sort of affair one uses to look around a desk or something. It is tiny compared to Van's at least. She will take point then and start down the hallway Robinson points down and - door! She puts her hand on the doorknob. "If something bites me, avenge me okay?" Nod. Aaaaaaaaaaand open!
The hallway is short and only has two doors, one on each side. There's a third at the end but its left open. Janitorial supplies like a mop and bucket are spilled out onto the floor. The door on the right is blasted open, looking like someone used a shotgun to the hinges in order to open it. The closed door that Lunair reaches for opens up into a larger supply closet. There's boxes lining the walls on the shelves. Many of them have been overturned and some just never bothered with. There's a box marked 'handcuffs' as well as several dozen brand new deputy uniforms, still holding the creases of folding, spilled across the floor.
Robinson follows Lunair slowly, but surely, keeping an eye behind them, should anything, or anyone, decide to sneak up on them. She keeps her eyes wide open as she peers about. As they reach the door, Robinson gives Lunair a little not. "Don't worry. I'll avenge you like nothing has been avenged before." She murmurs softly. And? Well, it may be anticlimactic, but it's something, at least.
Lunair will take it! She nods, and peers around too. "Thanks. Well, here's the uniforms. Might be able to use those I guess. For cloth if nothing else." Maybe some handcuffs, hopefully not of the pink fuzzy variety. She checks a few of the boxes, including handcuffs. Yup. Those're good. "Do the MPs need these? I know ammo and guns are our priority… Eh, we can tell her if we need to." She does, however, snag a jaunty hat. Just as evidence. Hmmm. Peer. She's diligent.
The handcuffs are not the pink, fuzzy variety. The box is filled with boxed, brand new sets of handcuffs as well as several dozen sets of zipcuffs. The uniforms that are grabbed are of varying sizes for different sexes and still, actually, have the manufacturers tags on them. The rest of the room has boxes of papers and some old crates marked as evidence. The vast majority of it is junk. The station has been raided for most of what survivors would consider valuable.
Lunair nods and makes notes for now on what might be important. She clings to one black, jaunty hat as she steps up and out. She pauses and goes to check the second door then, peering into the blasted door. Her eyebrows furrow.
Vandenberg returns, flashlight leading the way. She sweeps it across the floor and heads over to Lunair. "Nice hat. Find any more like it or anything else?" Van shines her light into the room and lets off a low whistle. It was the station's armory but its been damned near cleaned out. It looks like someone used bolt cutters to get into the gun cage and completely cleaned it out. The room is almost completely spotless except for a few boxes shoved against the wall. "Wanna check those boxes? I don't there's much else here we could take unless we wanted to collect scrap metal and furniture."
"Yeah, there's a bunch. Uniforms, zip ties, handcuffs are the main bunch that's useful," She explains. She pauses, and smiles sadly. "It looks like we've been beaten. Hopefully they left something behind…" But she seems dubious, given that she hasn't seen many survivors or heard of many. "I wasn't sure how hard up we are on uniforms or cuffs, but they might be handy." Nod.
The box that Lunair heads for initially looks like junk. There's a towel on the top and a bunch of paper stacked. But under the paper is a whole slew of nightsticks. "Great. We'll take it all. Remember, we've gotta outfit ourselves in case the civilians set up their own police force. I found another closet and the briefing room. Got about a dozen or so digital radios and their charges. Also found a box of deputy badges. Gonna have it all shipped back to the Cerb."
Junk - towel, papers! She carefully sets the papers aside. "Guess batons are good," Lunair nods. "That's true. I don't think that I've heard many plans for that though. Honestly, two police forces sounds like a recipe for confusion, and trouble," She admits. "Not to mention what happens when papers and evidence go back and forth," She admits, closing an eye. Then a smile. "That's definitely good." She seems relieved, and somewhat amused by the box of badges. She does cling to the hat though. "Should we call the others then? Or did you wish to look somewhere else too? I suspect we're best off checking one or two places at a time, so our kids don't come out all goofy." Ah, rads.
"Oh yeah, batons are damned good. Grab the box and bring it out front. I'll go grab the radios and badges. Get all those uniforms and cuffs, too." Vandenberg sweeps the light around the room once more. "Confusion beats the hell out of having the military policing civilians. That isn't just bad, its technically illegal. The last thing the civs need are the Marines telling them what do. We're the military. We fight the enemy. When the military polices the civilians you make the civilians the enemy." She says it absently, looking around whats left of the armory. "Okay, I'm gonna get my stuff. I'll meet you out front, Lunair."
"Good," Lunair nods and grunts, scooping up the box. "Well. They have to want it. It's no good forcing it on them. I suspect it will take awhile. Everyone's still getting used to the new boat and worrying about our plants," She admits. There's a sad look. "And to think, I hated the peaches so much I brought my own little plants…" A humble start for their garden. And an amusing one. Lunair vs. Fleet Peaches. "Okay, that sounds good." She agrees and shifts batons. Keeping a hold of the hat, she'll grab what else she can and move to meet Van out front.
Robinson has fallen back to the front room to the dead bodies. It's a place for her to check that the other people can't exactly check, she supposes. In the front room where they first came in, she checks the bodies for weapons and ammunition and other useful items that might come in handy for general supplies up on Cerberus.
Ten minutes later, the Raptor is touching down. A few of the neighborhood raiders have returned to the landing zone. Each one has two huge sacks positively overflowing with looted clothing and sundries. None of the people look terribly happy about their finds, or at least about what they found in the houses. The gear from the police station is loaded onto the Raptor with barely a few words after the outbound teams board. Vandenberg stands on the street by Robinson and Lunair and reaches into her rucksack, producing six folded canvas bags that are about 4 feet long. Two goes to each of them. "Alright. Let's hit a house. The teams left us this one across the street since we're on double-duty with a home and police station." Van gestures to a single floor brick home. All the windows have been shot out and the house looks similarly shot up as the police station. "Everyone know what they are looking for?"
Lunair is quiet, her expression hard to read. It's a sort of peaceful nobility, as if she should be sitting atop a horse and watching peasants go by. Or wearing a theatrical mask, painted with strange eyes. She pauses and quirks an eyebrow at the bags. She takes them and nods. "Alright. Supplies, especially. Anything useful." Ammo, clothes, medical goods, perhaps antirads or food.
Robinson sighs as she looks at the buildings that they're set to go through and scavenge. "If you all thought the police station was fun, let's just wait." She says softly. "Yes sir, crystal clear on what we're looking for. Supplies of all kinds. Including, if I do say so myself, sir…clothing. Nice clothing. Like…stuff to make us look gooooood." She clears her throat with a little 'ahem'. "I mean…yes, I know what we're looking for sir. And that's that."
"Right. Anything useful. Don't weight yourselves down with stuff like jewelry, though. Its function over form today, ladies." She gives them a nod and turns to lead them up towards the house. Van manages a quick smile at Robinson's enthusiasm. "Iffff we happen to find things like that, then yes. Keep your eyes out for something for Major Willows. She gave me the go-ahead. I think white or maybe a dark blue would look good on her." As they come up to the front of the house, the scene gets more grim. There are long, rust colored stains in the concrete walkway. Blood. They look like drag marks that lead off into the grass and towards the street. The Lieutenant readjusts her kerchief and looks back towards the other two before moving inside.
Lunair stifles a grin at Robinson. "Bah, I got married already. I think he'd be happy even if I just showed up wearing a hat." Lunair winks. "Then again, I'm not really skinny…" The horror! Hmmm. She looks down. "Still, it's good for morale I suspect." Well, Lun is willing to consider it. She pauses, "What does Major Willows like to wear? I'm thinking tan or cream shades," then a pause. "Or dark blue," Yes. Lunair prepares her hankerchief too. She looks pained. If there's one thing that gets her goat, it's wanton civilian slaughter. Ugh.
Robinson gives Van a little nod. "Yes sir. Of course, sir. Something for Major Willows. Right…you can count on us! Something useful and special for all. But essentially useful stuff. That's what we're here for." She says with an affirmative nod. Of course, she does want to find something nice and fancy though. She grins at Lunair. "Well, we'll find you a hat, then." She gives the woman a little wink before turning her attention to the house as they approach. Well, it's not or never.
"Good idea with the cream. That didn't even occur to me." She steps into the doorway with a bag in each hand, moving a step out of the way before she stops. "Now I know why the other teams weren't smiling." In the words of an immortal actor in a recent film: 'There was a firefight!'. At least, there was a one-way fight. Just inside the door is the blasted arm of a Cylon Centurion. The walls surrounding the front door and windows are shot full of holes. Hundreds of rounds were fired in this direction - but there were almost none fired towards the people who were shooting. There's a small barricade built at the other end of the small living room, shell casings littering the floor and nearly covering it. The bloody drag marks stain the carpet and linoleum floor and seem to have come from the barricade. A pair of small feet, clad in shoes, can be seen sticking out from the hallway. "The Centurions wanted them alive. Dear Gods," she breathes.
Lunair smiles at Robinson which blooms into a grin. She nods. With that, Lunair follows and a wince. She pulls out her hankerchief again. There's a pained look. "Leonis…" The horrors there flood her memory. She closes her strangely colored eyes for a moment. "Gods, are they still at it." A little shiver. "Sorry, I just had a moment there." She mumbles. Unusually, Lunair seems perturbed - and shows it, an incredible rarity. But it doesn't last long. Searching is a welcome distraction.
Robinson's chin quivers as she looks about the house. "I…I…" She can't even seem to start that sentence. She has to concentrate on the task at hand. Finding clothing and other supplies. Yes. That'll keep her occupied. That will take her mind off unpleasantness. She's a Marine. She has to be strong. She has to. It's in the job description, right? Right?! Well, that's what she's telling herself right now, anyway.
"Yeah. Let's keep moving." The Lieutenant's upbeat mood suddenly has taken a turn downhill. Moving towards the hallway, there's nothing behind the barricade except some broken plates and tons of spent ammunition. It looks like people were in a physical fight behind it with how everything is broken and tossed. Entering the hallway, the feet are attached (barely) to the remains of a young girl - maybe fourteen when she died. The remains are at least five months old and she's barely recognizable due to the decay. Much of her shirt around her midsection has been shot away, an arm clasped over a long-dried bandage on the apparent wounds. Natalie closes her eyes and forces herself to look away. "I'll take the room on the right, you two, ah, head for the one at the end." Van disappears into the room after gesturing towards the other one. The bedroom they arrive it is the master bedroom. There's a queen size bed to the side, a huge walk-in closet with many of the clothes tossed aside, drawers half opened and searched, and the large bathroom.
It's not a memory Lun wants to hang onto. Nor to see the remains of that poor girl. Lunair offers a quiet prayer for her and goes heading towards the bedroom. She peers and pokes her head into the bathroom. "Here we are, some toiletries and stuff-" She's quiet. But glad for the others, at least. Her stomach still weighs several pounds. "And aspirin."
Robinson averts her eyes immediately from the dead bodies. She may be a medical person, but she doesn't have to like to see dead bodies. She's not a coroner or anything! She's quick to follow Lunair into the other room. "Toiletries…yes. Good. We need those. I need some good conditioner and shampoo. I mean…not just me. But others too." She goes into the bathroom and looks around. "Oh hey…a hair straightener and a hair curler…wow…" Whoever lived here had it going on hairwise. She puts both of them in a bag.
Lunair just goes quiet, then nods. She looks amused and passes some of the hair care stuff over to Robinson. "Bah, I'm glad just to have hair again personally," Lunair admits quietly and sighs. She'll help round up soap, lotion, toothpaste. Maybe some decent sheets and paper. Her efforts aren't awesomely successful but she's got fairly sharp eyes.
Robinson glances over to Lunair. "Loss of hair? From…the radiation?" She asks, more out of something to talk about right now than anything, as she takes some of the stuff passed to her from Lunair. "Me, I'm glad to have something to actually make my hair look nice. I mean…just taking a shower isn't enough sometimes, you know? Especially if all you have is water…water doesn't do much except make your hair wet." She shakes her head, looking around for other items.
"Nah, I get shot in the head a lot," Lunair remarks simply - it's just a fact of her life. She shrugs. She is sharing at least. "That's true." But again, glad to have her hair period. She pauses, "I think we got this cleared. There's some sheets and stuff in the drawers and closet. I wonder if it even fits us … I'm not -" Not really skinny or tall! Poor Lunair got the short end of the stick. Literally. "It's nice to have something besides fleet shampoo anyway. I bet it's repackaged dish soap," She winks.
"Ah…well…I suppose that would do it. Shaving the head for surgery and all." Robinson gives a nod to Lunair. "Yeah…we've got pretty much everything we need from here. Let's go…yeah. Check other stuff out." She smiles. "Well, there's only a few ways to find things out, that I know of. One? Actually trying it on now, or two…checking out the size. And then there's finding someone who can actually adjust it to fit us, if such a person can be found." She says with a smile, giving her a little wink at mention of the fleet shampoo.
"Yeah, I have to stop wearing magnetic hats," Lunair remarks quietly. Then a nod. "We'll find out when we get onboard. I can sew and weave pretty well actually," Lunair admits. "And Psyche made my wedding dress," She notes. "So there's a few of us who sew… I was going to start a circle with Tisiphone but," Her voice actually wavers a moment. Tisiphone is still a fresh wound in her heart and Lunair just goes quiet, "People got busy." Yes. That's it. She shakes it off and smiles a little at the wink. "So I mostly repair uniforms when it's quiet or I'm off duty." And off she goes to check out other stuff, though it's apparent most is cleaned out.
Van appears in the doorway silently. She's been gone for quite a few minutes with nary a sound from her. One bag on her shoulder is completely filled and the other in her hand is only partially there. There's a blank, distant look on her face. Three sets of sunglasses are hanging from the front of her combat vest. "Found the girl's room. And her bathroom. Found anything good in here?" The woman's voice is flat with very little emotion to it.
Robinson gives Lunair a little grin. "Yes…it might be good to rethink the magnetic hats." She shakes her head. "But that's good to know. People who sew. I'm horrible at it. But now I know who to come to." She says softly. She starts sorting through the clothing in the drawers, pulling out a few things. Automatically, and without even thinking, she starts sorting the clothing by size, item type, and colour. Darker clothing on bottom, lighter on top. Bigger items on bottom, larger on top. So on and so forth. She looks up as Van arrives at the doorway and speaks. "We've…we've got a few things." She says quietly.
Lunair smiles at Van sadly, though she has only really filled one bag - she's glad to share. A slow nod. "Toiletries, some bed sheets, paper, towels, clothes - a few things.." She seems pleased in a way, but saddened too. "And yeah. I don't mind helping my fellows out," Most of her sewing is done for Marines these days it seems. She nods again at Robinson's reply to Van. "That's a way to put it. I should start teaching people to sew now that we've not got factories." Lunair tucks a few more towels in.
"I cleaned out her bathroom. Towels, cold and flu meds, aspirin and ibuprofen, some minor prescription things I couldn't figure out. Found a ton of toothpaste and dental floss, too. She had a nice smile. Guess she worked hard for it." Van's face is wry, the smile that tries to appear just can't quite get the gumption to flow and it looks awkward on her face. "She was about my size so I took everything. Shoes were too big, though." The Lieutenant's voice doesn't change, holding on to its flat tone. She probably doesn't like thinking about what she just had to do when the girl was in the hallway. "Take it all. Don't bother folding because we have to sort it when we get back and turn in to Supply what we don't keep. If you need more room, I've got some extra space."
Robinson gives Van a little nod. "I'll sort out the medications for Medical." She says softly. "After all, I'm the medical person. I might as well…you know…do that." And while she's at it, she might figure out what the girl had. Which might make it hard. You know, personalizing it all and everything. Still gently placing the clothing she found into her bag, which consisted of a couple dresses, pants, button up shirts and t-shirts, she looks at Van. "Should we move on to the next house, then?"
A slow nod. She doesn't think much on it, relying on her animal side to tell her it's what they -need-. There's a sympathetic look in her eyes for Van. "I think I've gotten what I can find," She nods quietly. "I can help sew and tailor what needs to be altered," She remarks quietly. She hides her unease beneath distance and softness. Lunair has an odd way of handling things that gives her a remarkably meek demeanor. "Do we have much time left?" She seems concerned.
"I'll give it to you when we get back to the berths." Vandenberg looks between the other officers. "Grab all the cold weather gear you can find, if there is anything left. If we settle someplace chances are good it won't be perfect. Gloves, ski caps, whatever. You can always wear less when its hot but when its cold you'll want it." Natalie settles her gaze on Lunair and doesn't say anything for a few awkward seconds. "No. Our Raptor is due back in ten minutes. Let's get the frak out of here. I'll be out front." She blinks and turns in the doorway, walking away as silently as she appeared.
Robinson nods a little bit to Van. "Right. Cold weather clothing." Why didn't she think of that. Well…mostly she didn't think about that because she was more worried about clothing that would make her and other look good. Ssshhhh. She likes fashion. "I'll meet you out front. I'll go search for the cold weather stuff." She starts looking around closets. She finally finds warm jackets and gloves and hats and even some scarfs. All good for cold weather, right? And then she's off to wait outside for the Raptor, which should, in theory be arriving any minute.
Lunair was less picky and kind of just shoveled stuff in. She nods at van, "Thank you sir." She's duly grateful at least. She pauses too, as Natalie's gaze settles on her. It's a quiet standstill, unease and sadness mingled with understanding. "Of course," She'll make sure to wait for Robinson, and follows out towards the doorway to make sure she doesn't miss the Raptor.