InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "you smell like beef and cheese"

Samuel T. Anders (cbuck) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-09 20:47:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, !incomplete, day 07, location: gym, sam anders, shannon rutherford

Day 7: Grabbing a Bite
Who: Samuel T. Anders and Shannon Rutherford (and some unsuspecting deer, if they can find it)
What: Grabbing a friendly bite to eat... by hunting deer
When: Day 7, mid-morning
Where: Forest edge, nearby the gym & museum
Rating: TBA
Status: Active

The creaking and moaning of the foreboding forest that encircled their little town had lost some of its terror for Samuel T. Anders. Were this three or four years ago, he'd have made a fast get away back to his little corner in the gym, but he'd grown so much since being just a C Buc. The light covering of snow on the ground crunched under the tread of his running shoes. Thankfully the wind had subsided somewhat since the gusts that had howled him awake this morning.

It was nice to have the promise of some company. It wasn't that Sid wasn't good company, but he was nearly all he saw yesterday until his bizarre evening with the night brigade, which wasn't exactly a happy encounter. Anders had wanted to figure out a way to make up for yesterday morning all day, but couldn't figure out a way that wouldn't come off as a feeble attempt to get in her pants or a creepy infatuation. Either way, he wasn't going to become another part of her 'complicated' life. His own was complicated enough.

Sam held tight onto the paper-wrapped hunting knife in one hand, cursing himself for not having grabbed gloves. Perhaps today would be the day for those. While he waited for Shannon's appearance, he decided to try to scout the area as best as he could. He wasn't formally trained in it in any way, but necessity made a great teacher in the absence of that.

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cbuck
2009-05-10 12:38 am UTC (link)

The awkwardness between them was going to either eat their conversation alive or have to be dealt with, he accessed. Unfortunately, Anders couldn't figure out how to start them off in the right direction. Instead, he just held his tongue until he could think of something more constructive to say.

When 'hon' slipped out of her nice, soft looking lips, it caught him off guard. No one had called him 'hon' since Ellen Tigh had sat him down on New Caprica, and made he and Saul have a 'civil' dinner after they had nearly gone to blows over the organizing of the resistance. Every time he thought of Ellen after the general pardon, a sobering guilt settled over him. Not for what he did, as he felt it was the right course of action, but more that he had been so righteous about it. Just like how he'd been so righteous about Felix.

Instead of dwelling on those things that made him glad to be far away from the fleet, Sam decided to try to pick out objects within the murk of the forest. Shannon's implication that he might know how to hunt a deer with nothing but his raw hands and a hunting knife was flattering to his ego, but not really true in any way. The only time he'd ever killed a deer was with a fully automatic assault rifle, and that was after months of failing at exactly that.

"Not really," Sam admitted, beginning to thumb through all the methods he could think of. One of which involved a stick of dynamite, but if they had that, they may as well break out. "But I've got this," he added, pulling the knife out from its paper sheath. "As promised."

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