Tristan J. Moore (sparked_it) wrote in reality_dome, @ 2014-01-12 19:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | doug cooper, tristan moore |
Just call him Sparky
Characters: Tris, Doug
When: Monday, late morning
Location: the Keep, common area
Warnings/Rating: none anticipated
Summary: Tris seeks social interaction
Status: Complete
Tristan was glad the smell was gone. Mostly gone. It had faded over the course of the weekend, but he could still smell it. He was pretty sure even people with normal noses could catch a whiff of it, but he smelled it. It was unpleasant at best, gag-worthy at worst, and there wasn't anywhere he could go to get away from it because it was everywhere. The burned smell, the blood smell, the death smell. If he inhaled, he could still detect traces of it, but he figured if he didn't breathe too deeply in the area of the event, he'd be all right. Besides, a couple more terrain changes should eliminate it almost entirely. Right? He wasn't completely sure that was how it would work, but he had hopes. Time, anyway, should break down the smell. He'd more or less been on the peripheral of the whole lion event; he'd gone back to his cabin and must have missed it somehow. He hadn't heard about it until Jaime and Chrissie had come around to share, but neither one of them had (in his opinion anyway) looked like they were up for much by way of questions. He promptly decided he didn't have any questions that needed answers, anyway -- he doubted anyone could really figure out the hows or whys of it all and the primary point still remained: a man was dead. The rest of the weekend had been quiet, and full of a very unpleasant smell. He had still mostly stayed inside, though with Jaime's assurance that the other lion was probably dying and staying to the area it was in, he'd explored a little near the cabins. If it hadn't been for the lions, Tris though this would've been a really fun terrain to play around in. The rest of the wildlife seemed pretty cool, and he'd watched some zebra across the river before retreating back to his cabin. It was about then that he'd worked out that the static electricity he'd had a bad case of might be a secondary power. He'd picked up on that when he'd shot a spark nearly a foot between himself and the towel rack. It did make him realize he'd have to be careful around other people until he got a handle on it. Now, in the cooler terrain that seemed infinitely more pleasant (and definitely more lion-free) Tristan found he was very inclined to walk and explore the terrain. He did that for part of the morning before heading to the Keep for a late breakfast. Carrying his plate of pancakes to the common area, he flopped down on one of the couches to watch whatever was on the TV if someone was already there, or to get something going on the TV if no one was. |