T.R. Lansing (darkertides) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-09-08 16:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [09] september, karen sharpe, tr lansing |
Who: TR Lansing and Karen Sharpe
Where: The Capitol, Lansing's Office
When: 11:00 AM, September 2nd
What: Honestly? This scene is going to start with him bitching about the damn cows and we'll just see where it goes from there. XD
Lansing had been crunching numbers since the cattle had arrived. Well, more specifically, he'd been delegating the number-crunching to an extent, deferring to what resources could be dug up about bovine husbandry and farming. The end result was the same. His brain was entirely too full of facts about cows. It wasn't that he lacked gratitude to Cal Davidson's sister. Her contribution of stock to their resources would be invaluable, assuming they could keep the animals alive. His solution of converting the underground parking garage had been born of necessity. With proper ventilation and sealing against the gas infiltration, the cows would neither die of poisoning nor would they suffocate from their own methane production indoors. They would also be safe from the undead, who didn't seem particular about what they ate. Granted, he'd never actually seen a zombie horde tear apart a cow, but they were a destructive force, nonetheless, and his job was preparing for all probabilities.
Feed, however, was still an issue. Maintaining a storage of appropriate feed so that the cows could get the nutrients they needed to produce milk (or heaven help them, calves) was going to require quite a bit of effort. There were no fields for them to graze in, so it would have to be dried feed indefinitely. Each cow needed at least 1.5 to 2% of its own body weight a day to maintain weight and health, depending on the feed's quality and protein content... estimated somewhere around twenty-five pounds per animal, per day, if not more.
"Ms. Sharpe," he said, upon Karen's arrival. He then gestured towards one of the chairs in his office. "Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat."
There's no warm smile of greeting or inane questions about how she's doing. Small talk wasn't his strong suit. There wasn't much point to it, as far as he was concerned. He also didn't expect to receive it from others. Lansing was a man who cut to the chase with little preamble. One of many personal qualities that made him excellent at his job, but awarded him very few friends. "I can assume you're aware of the cows."
The cattle had arrived with some amount of fanfare. There was no way to be stealthy about driving a herd of cows through an urban setting, and there'd been quite a scramble after Cal Davidson had been cleared to repurpose the parking garage to home the new four-legged residents. Still, Lansing wasn't sure how much Karen Sharpe had already been roped into Project Dairy, if she'd been involved at all thus far.
"They're going to pose a challenge for us very soon."