04th Anomaly . spam

[dinosize]

[ Stephen never quite relaxes. Even though he's in his element, even though it gives him a thrill every time breathing in the thick, pure air. Even as he finds himself smiling at the sun trickling down through the leaves. He can't quite stop expecting a monster to break the spell.

Find him:

At night, he makes campfire. Flickering light and shifting shadow. Follow the sight of the flames, the smell of wood smoke and cooking fish and meat. He will be close by his pack, rifle within easy reach, curled up in a hollow or against a log.

During the day: fishing. Careful hunting, making sure the shots he takes are to animals, not the little sentient bears or people from the Barge. (Try not to get in the way of a bullet, please, everyone.)

He pushes out and explores the forest.

Wades in the streams.

Swims in the pools, not particularly worried about nakedness. (This is probably the only time the rifle ends up away from his hands.)

Once, early on, he finds he's being followed by a group of creatures like little bears rustling the leaves around him. He calls out hello, and they burst out of their cover, brandishing spears. He raises his hands, slowly. - Help him? ]

Comments

[versusnurture]

[She appears behind him in the woods while he's fishing. She's quiet, but not silent. Just watching. She seems whole and healthy, if a little wan and unused to the sun and space.]

[Fishing. She doesn't know how.]

[theresalwayshope]

[Allison was in the middle of tracking something for dinner later, a nice, fat little creature that reminded her of a rabbit, when she came across someone else who may or may not have been tracking her kill.

Bow slung across her back, Allison moves cautiously towards the guy with the rifle, coming from the side. She doesn't want to scare his target if he's not aiming for hers, and she doesn't want to get shot, since she's just finishing her own death toll...but she doesn't want to lose her own prey, either.

Nearing his side, she makes sure she's in his peripheral vision, rustling just enough leaves to alert him to her presence...and only then recognizes the guy she talked to just after she woke up in the infirmary. He looks a lot like the man who killed her, but less...hard. There's a color in his cheeks, a spark in his eyes that Zane doesn't have, so the momentary leap of her heart calms relatively quickly when she notes the differences.

Extending a hand, she touches his shoulder, and when she has his attention, uses hand signals to ask what he's hunting.]

[americasdirtiest]

[Camping is... weird, so far. It's not actually bad, exactly -- it's just the first time he's willingly spent this much time around his peers since, like, Little League. Even then, he hadn't exactly been a social butterfly.

He's surprised to find that he's actually having a pretty good time, but after a while he feels like he needs a break. He grabs his pack and makes some excuse about needing to see a man about a horse, and tramps off into the woods for some quiet time.

Quiet for him, anyway. To anyone else with ears, he might as well be a bulldozer, for all the noise he makes crashing through the trees.]

[hearrrtofgold]

[During the day, Duke is not precisely hunting. The shotgun he's carrying is a precaution right now, just in case his movements through the jungle startle something hostile. Or someone, which is his immediate thought when he hears Stephen's shot. He spins, raising the gun to defend himself from the other gunman.]

Okay, don't shoot or this is going to get stupid really fast.

[with_my_teacup]

[It's the scent of cooking meat that draws Riddick's interest, and he strolls into the light of the campfire one evening with his goggles off and his eyes glimmering.]

Mind if I borrow your fire? I brought my own. [He holds up a brace of dead birds, fat, fowl...ish. He's not against eating them raw-- not worth the bother of making his own fire definitely-- but there's something to be said for cooking.]