Utterly Mad

Branches and Roxanne talked long into the night before Branches finally left satisfied and more at ease with herself. Roxanne was prankish but kind, and very professional when the subject of their talk came to her upcoming court date. She had someone in mind to defend her in court, so Branches would be called upon only if that option fell through. The fact that it was just a simple hearing for an unpaid traffic ticket didn't seem to matter much to Roxanne. It was the principle of the thing that mattered. Now Branches found herself, the next day, sitting by the lake thinking of her prospects with a clearer head. She just needed the right clothes and that was it. There wasn't enough room on her face, or so Roxanne had said, to gussy up much. Her eye swiveled around to look at the lines she'd run across the clearing with the clothes hanging on it. Plenty of choices there, she just needed to pick something that suited her. Standing covered and waiting to be moved into her hut was the standing mirror she would try different combinations in front of, miraculously unharmed by the cloud of metal that had turned her home into a bloody mess a few nights before.

"First," She said to herself decisively, "Finish your house and get those herbs. You forgot remember? Maybe I'll visit the farm later and... No, it's too soon... Roxanne said to wait a few days..." Branches huffed and kicked her feet a little. Her yard was still a mess and she felt exhausted just looking at it. She still felt light and airy, but if not for Roxanne she would probably still feel like she'd get blown away at any minute. Like Roxanne had instructed, she closed her eye and cleared her mind to meditate. The lap of water on the new shore, the rustle of leaves and pine needles, the gentle warmth of the sun, and the wind carrying with it the smell of coming autumn. It worked, to her surprise. She felt heavy again, anchored in place and ready to start the day.

---

Minx checked the bolt like Catnip had shown her. For the job ahead, the faceless woman had gone to the mechanic and had been loaned her side arm. The cut down hunting rifle had been infuriating to the Shattered helm and especially the Shattered Helms quartermaster, Billy-Jean, at first. Then Catnip had been taken out of The Regs and placed in the Bleeding Eye, and the weapon had been an example of exactly what the scouting arm of the Shattered Helm needed it's people to use.

"Do you think I'll have to use it?" Minx asked. She'd only ever fired a gun a few times in her life. The last time had been well before the cataclysm, and it hadn't been a gun like this. Medeina scanned the gun for the third time, recording all the small pains that had been taken to make sure it was functional and reliable.

"Honestly, I don't recall. It is safe to assume that my lab is home to one or more of the creatures which I once possibly observed, but it is also possible that they have fled or died off." Medeina wondered, then had another thought, "Or the staff. Perhaps the staff is still present? Maybe... Maybe they can answer my questions."

"Hey, that's a thought. Keep your chin up robot." Minx said, then raise the rifle heroically, "We will find the answers that you seek!" She sat like that for a long awkward moment before lowering it again.

"Maybe." Medeina said simply.