InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I have two feet and one nose."

Heather Mason (tufui_egoeris) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-03-30 08:56:00

Entry tags:

!complete, cheryl mason, day 02, location: theatre, silent bob

Day Two - Midday to Early Afternoon
Who: Cheryl Mason & Silent Bob
What: Exploring/Map Making
When: Midday of Day 2
Where: Somewhere in the vicinity of the theater
Rating: TBD (currently let's say around PG-13 for language?)
Status: Complete

It had started as busy work - something to keep her moving so that she didn't have time to think, didn't have time to remember. Movement seemed to be as good a salve as Cheryl was going to find for her particular itch and she fully intended to keep moving until she was absolutely forced to stop. It came to her in the seemingly endless stretch of hours between early morning and gray dawn that movement without purpose was a waste and so she came to the abrupt decision to do something that seemed worthwhile - since this place hadn't been kind enough to furnish one, Cheryl decided that she'd make an effort to begin to sketch a map of the basic area.

Cheryl started once a dim sort of dawn had broken and given her a sense of the basic directions. Since then, she walked north far enough to map the location of a church with a small cemetery behind and useless forest beyond. After that, she had come south again to the library where she had started - and the two buildings beyond which had proven to be a post office and a thrift store. Now that the rain had started to fall in earnest, she lingered under the dilapidated marquee of what appeared to have once been a theater. Sitting cross-legged on the shattered and frequently missing tiles of the entryway, she held a thick volume across her lap. Said volume had come from the library but, since it held no useful information and had frequent blank pages due to the illustrations, she had decided to use it to house her beginning sketches - at least until her map as decent enough to sketch into her journal. She would just wait out the rain and, as soon as it let up enough, she'd start walking again. God knew if she would be able to map out the entire area - or if the area would stay the same long enough for her to do so - but she intended to try, at least.

She had to do something to try to stay sane, after all.

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silent_bob
2009-04-12 05:28 pm UTC (link)

Bob, blinking a few moments into the smoke realized that Cheryl hadn't immediately come out with him. Turning around to look at the door he heard a clatter of sounds - like a lot of somethings falling over. Bob canted his head, deciding that if she didn't reappear in the time it took him to count to twenty he'd go in there after her.

He didn't even make it to ten before he saw her coming out with a garish looking umbrella. Giving her a look accented with scrunched brows and his lower lip yanked to the left - Bob silently asked 'What the fuck?' It could have been a kids item once upon a time - but now with all the spokes broken and mismashed the shape of the umbrella resembled a pancake more than an upside down bowl. A pancake with flared edges no less.

The little teepee fire with it's billowing white smoke seemed to appreciate the umbrella, the burning of the bigger sticks possibly not quite so hard anymore. Bob shrugged, he'd been kicked out of the Boy Scouts after the incident at the science fair. Somebody seemed to think it wasn't appropriate for a scout to have access to, let alone make anything out of, a vibrator.

Shaking the pot a bit he thought he was starting to see some steam come rolling up off the edges. That, he guessed, was a good sign. Offering Cheryl a head bob of thanks he again swirled the stew. Wouldn't want to burn it and shit.

It took some time for the stew to start to simmer - so much time that Bob was wondering if the whole cooking over fire thing was really something people had made up. Big bubbles started popping in the gravy-like sauce and Bob started to feel more and more accomplished. He'd fucking cooked and shit. Jay would never fucking believe it.

Nodding toward the pot Bob offered her some, it smelled pretty damned good for mystery food. He supposed it could be fucking worse. They could have fucking diet shit to eat. Who the fuck likes that shit anyway? Even worse: frozen diet shit. Tasteless shit. All meant to make fat people feel even worse about eating. It made Bob turn to fucking doughnuts every time. Talk about comfort fucking food.

Taking up the rusty fork she'd offered earlier Bob speared a Potato and popped it into his mouth. It wasn't exactly hot - but, it was warmer than the rain, and that offered some fucking comfort. Giving a nod of satisfaction he went in for what he guessed was a fucking carrot.

Good shit.

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tufui_egoeris
2009-04-13 02:38 pm UTC (link)

"I never would've taken you for a Boy Scout," Cheryl commented idly as she watched the stew begin to bubble a bit around the edges. The warm scent of the heating gravy drifted up to her and, though she was wary to admit as much, she found herself thinking that it actually smelled good - not as good as a Happy Burger would taste about now, granted, but like real honest food all the same. "If you keep being this useful, I might have to keep you around."

She was attempting to joke around, that much was probably obvious, but she also felt that there was a grain of truth somewhere in-between. The fact that Bob was actually taking time out to help her in the midst of all this craziness said something about him but the fact that he hadn't yet shown any real inclination to use the situation (or that he was even somehow involved in it) spoke even more. He was obviously just another person caught up in...whatever the hell this situation could be called - and that meant that he could maybe probably be trusted.

Even for this slowly growing trust, Cheryl did wait for him to take the first taste of the stew before feeling confident enough to try it herself. Once she was fairly sure that there was nothing nasty hiding in the thick brown gravy, she crouched down and speared a stray potato. As she chewed this thoughtfully, she continued to hold the umbrella over the two of them with one hand - it wasn't the best or the most reliable shelter, already beginning to leak a little as it was, but it was better than nothing. "Yea. I think I might definitely have to keep you around."

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silent_bob
2009-04-14 08:28 am UTC (link)

Bob snickered to the thought of anyone actually assuming him to be a boyscout in any capacity. He could build a fire, and found himself generally to be a naturally chivalrous sort; but, weren't boyscouts supposed to be all adventurous and shit? Bob would sooner just make the rest of his life rather comfortably at the Not-Quick-Stop. It wasn't really so bad here if one didn't take not having a real bed too badly.

'Yea, I think I might definitely have to keep you around,' she said, and Bob sort of grinned a bit. He wasn't usually the sort people wanted to keep around; or really even noticed was there at all. Usually, people just kind of overlooked him and only really commented when they thought that he ought to be saying something. Fuck that shit. Bob talked when Bob wanted to, and that's all there really was to it.

The fire was starting to smouler, which kind of bummed Bob out because it was kind of nice to be actually warmed by something for a change. Not that his coat wasn't warm and shit - it was just...

Looking back to the thrift shop Bob raised his brow, tilting his head in the direction of the shelter. They could at least stay dry in there; and it's not like the fire would be too good for keeping warm much longer. Awkwardly pushing himself to his feet, Bob took a deep breath and extended his free hand to help her up and shit. Not that the umbrella wasn't thoughtful - it's just the roof worked a little bit better.

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tufui_egoeris
2009-04-14 01:41 pm UTC (link)

Cheryl raised her eyebrows at the offered hand and she couldn't quite keep a small laugh from escaping her smiling lips. Oh, not that she was laughing at Bob this time either; again, it was the unexpectedness of the gesture that simply caught her off guard and left her with little other reaction. Shaking her head, she accepted the hand and the help to return to her feet. "Who says that chivalry's dead?"

She nodded agreement to his suggestion that they go back to the thrift store but, before starting off in that direction, she frowned a bit at the broken umbrella still in her hand. It had become pretty obvious that it had outlived its usefulness, if just because a nice pool of water had collected on the flat top instead of running down the should-be-rounded sides, but she didn't really want to just throw it away; true, a broken umbrella wasn't good for much but the tip could be enough to pierce if thrust hard enough and it was blunt enough to make one or two good blows possible.

The lingering paranoia of the situation prompted her to decide to simply shake the water from the top and collapse it instead of just tossing the umbrella aside. Nodding to Bob, Cheryl started the short walk back toward the shelter of the store.

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