Jack Oat (masterofnone) wrote in lost_world, @ 2013-03-16 21:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !status: complete, davis cameron, jack oat |
Do I look good in this apron and these pumps? (Mikey)
Ever wake up to the smell of something burning and not know what it was? Jack had at least once or twice, and that still didn't make anything easier. She jerked forward, her hand going for a gun that wasn't there. She winced as the other arm was jarred slightly as the spatula she was holding hit the counter at an awkward angle.
Her eyes were wide open soon enough, and she was definitely awake. Living on the road in an existance that demanded instant awareness, even when someone hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. At least she didn't think she'd gotten much sleep.
The hunter wasn't prepared for what she saw when she looked around. The spatula was an odd thing to be holding, but she'd done some odd things in the past. At least odd things that led to dead things or undead things or dead undead things. Not a very nice kitchen in what looked to be a very nice house; a quick glance out the window suggest, the nice house was in a nice neighborhood. The odd didn't usually land her in front of an oven with pans full of burning breakfast items - sure, she'd had that short time as a short order cook, but this was nothing like that griddle. The odd definitely did not prepare her for the glance down at the June Cleaver/Father Knows Best get up. It was more Father Knows Best than Leave it to Beaver.
"What kind of nightmare is this?" She tossed the spatula in the sink and turned off the stove top ranges before yanking the apron off. Jack took a few steps before realizing the faint clicking on tile was the heels she was wearing. "What the hell?"
No, this wasn't going to work. She could roll with many punches, but waking up like some housewife in suburbia without the whole working to get to that point, a point she didn't think she was cut out for, was not her idea of fun and relaxing. She didn't do anything with the food; it was too late for it. Instead she took off her shoes, turning them to use the heels as weapons, just in case.
Jack Oat was pissed, and someone had a good bit of explaining to do.