kore_logs | Think of that scrumptious carnality twice in one day

Ruby isn't entirely sure how to go about leading a group like this. She's not timid, per se, but she's never lead anything like this, so she lets herself hang back at first with a warm smile, waiting to see what everyone has to say and contribute.

She's still concerned that her co-leader disappeared and she's got her eye open for someone else who might be a good authority on the subject, since her experience amounts to lying about her powers and getting tips from the library.

After a little while, she speaks up. "The meat supply is pretty low, as far as I can tell, and I'm not sure that it's being distributed enough to the people who don't have friends who are hunting. I'm hoping we can find a way to monitor that, because we don't want to kill more than we need too quickly. We could wind up killing off our food source.:

Meyer's good at a lot of things, although he wouldn't admit it, even if pressed to. Among those things are mingling -- he's polite, and capable of holding a casual conversation, at the very least -- and being an excellent shot. That means he should feel right at home at this club meeting, but he's not quite sure he does. Having to explain where he obtained his shooting skills doesn't exactly strike him as a pleasant topic of conversation, nor is he sure that he wants to use his precious few bullets on hunting whatever animals are in those woods.

Still, he's doing his very best to talk to as many people as he can. He may not officially be signed up for the group, but he figures it's something to do to pass the time, and nobody could deny the fact that they need more food around this place desperately. From the way his fingers are twitching by his side, though, going to pat his pocket occasionally, he's also desperately in need of a cigarette.

Clint spent most of his morning on a scouting mission with Anna and it was about as fun as rectal surgery with no anesthesia. He was done though and that meant not spending quality time with the redheaded woman he didn't really trust at all. He probably should have been a little more open considering his own past, but trusting is hard for Clint Barton after everything that's happened. Toss in what happened with the scientists and he's going to have himself a mountain of trouble just connecting with another human being ever again. Maybe that's a stretch, but still. He's starting to become wary of trusting Kenzi, but he's not ready to voice that just yet. Maybe something more happened when he was with those scientists?

His quiver full of arrows and his bow were dropped onto an empty space at the picnic table. He remembers Ruby from the brief encounter he had with her. Nice girl, but even Clint can see she looks a little out of her element. It's not easy being shoved into a leadership position. His first couple of ops when he had command were a challenge. It's always tough figuring out what the hell you're supposed to do.

He's still busted up from his encounter with the scientists. His eyes discoloration and bruising has changed quite a bit since his talk with Donna. It's noticeable, but the whites of his left eye are no longer red. He's moving, but not very fast.

"I know of a few ways in a pinch, but that's more for hardcore survival." That wasn't standard SHIELD training at all. He learned how to cook on the fly with very little ingredients when he was in the war and working in the circus. Sometimes it's hard to have a decent meal when you're surrounded by all that crap and shady people. Taking care of yourself is sometimes your only option. "I like that you made snacks."

There was still a lot of fish left over from her catch, so she brought what was left to the park, hoping it would get eaten and not go bad. Not like she couldn't eat the majority of it herself, but that hadn't been why she'd caught it. So after dropping the fish off with the rest of the food available, taking some for herself, she turned her attention to the people gathered.

One familiar face stuck out to her, even if she hadn't seen Ruby since their first meeting other than blips on the communicators. She went over just in time to hear her talking.

"I've been catching and sharing what I can, but I've been trying not to overdo it. There's no lack of things to provide meat, as long as no one's picky. There's the larger than iguana lizards that I've never seen before, and they cook up just as well as an iguana. There's snakes as well, but I haven't tried for those. Not with rabbits and the lizards around. If we're worried about meat sources, we could always put together an actual hunting party to try for something bigger. Something that could effectively feed most of us for a few days at least, if prepared and stored right."

Ellen really wishes they had more weapons, and more bullets than they do. She doesn't mind hunting with a bow - she's done it before, but it's not her fondest memory. Plus, she prefers a crossbow to a compound.

She should've paid more attention all those years ago when her uncle made them.

One of the main reasons she's here is Ruby. Girl helps her with the still, she can come give her a hand with the hunting. Ellen has her hands in her pockets, one hand curled around the but of her gun. It makes her feel better to have it.

The kid she spots keeps twitching and it makes her nervous. She's seen more than one hunter strung out on something and then deciding to go through detox without help. Not her fondest memory. She steps up closer to the boy. "You alright?" Concern laces her voice. If someone's detoxing, she's not sure what they can do.

He wasn't aware that his twitching was quite so obvious, and it makes him feel a little ridiculous when this woman says something about it. When she comes closer, he offers her a polite smile, mentally forcing his fingers to stop drumming against his leg.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I could use a cigarette, though." And more bullets. The gun he has tucked away, that he pretty much keeps on him at all times, had come fully loaded, but it's not like whoever had brought them here had dropped off a box of ammunition with it.

A couple people had told him that if he just stopped smoking entirely, that if he just got rid of the rest of the cigarettes he had and didn't smoke any again, this would be easier. The one cigarette every few days sure isn't cutting it, but he doesn't like the alternative, either.

Ruby smiles at Clint. Hey, a girl can appreciate a nice-looking man. It doesn't have to mean anything beyond that and he is certainly a nice-looking man.

"I'm not sure where the line is drawn for what's hardcore, but those snacks were all found in the forest, so while I can make everything taste alright, our food sources aren't the most civilized right now." And she's more than a little curious as to what hardcore survival entails.

"Were you one of those big kid Boy Scouts or something?"

"I've been catching the odd deer and then freezing most of it, but it's like a real life game of tetris getting all the pieces into the freezer. I haven't touched any of the non-mammal sources of protein, but I'm sure I could find a way to season a lizard if I had to. That's the one nice thing, at least. We were left with fully-stocked spice racks in a lot of the houses."

She smiles at Riley. "have you been using a fishing pole of some sort or free-handing it?"

Either way, Ruby is thoroughly impressed. Even with her speed, she has no idea how anyone goes about the whole fishing thing.

"The thing you need to know about lizards? They look way uglier than they taste. They're a great source of protein and they actually taste pretty good. They're almost a white meat, like chicken, so it's best to cook them in their skin to keep in the juice." So many North American people were so squeamish about the food they ate. If it didn't come wrapped in cellophane, it was 'weird and gross'.

"Free handing. You have to be patient, but if you know what you're doing, it can be pretty easy."

It had to start with patience. If you couldn't stand in the water without shifting your feet, you'd never be able to catch anything.

Dean eyes the vegetable trays, his nose wrinkling slightly, and then he decides to put his game face on. Carrots are safe, right? They're probably carrots. He goes for one of those and doesn't die, so that's something, and he moves along the fringe of the group. For obvious reasons, Dean's good at hunting, but he's a little rusty on the hunting of like, actual animals. He's in the middle of wondering if he could decapitate a deer with a machete while simultaneously eyeing the crowd, and he accidentally backs up into someone.

"Oh, hey, sorry, pal. My bad. Should've been watching where I was going."

The truth is though, he's tired and sweaty. It's been a long day, and he probably shouldn't hang around long. How did all the shit he signed up to do get busy all on the same freaking day? Shows him for trying to get involved.

Edited 2013-06-11 06:47 (UTC)

Cigarettes? Well, she's seen more than one person be twitchy about coming off of them. Hell, when she'd quit years ago, she'd been a bitch for a couple of weeks.

"Doubt there's many around here." She turns to look at him and offers her hand. "I'm Ellen."

She's normally a bit more careful, but she wants to know about people around here. She needs to know which monsters to be wary of, and where they are. Jo's here now, so that gives her double reason.

"There's some," he says, "But not enough."

Just enough that he can't kick the habit entirely. Just enough that he's been desperately trying to find other things to do to pass his time. The various clubs had seemed like a good distraction, and a productive one. As long as they were going to be stuck here for awhile, they might as well start to make the most of the place.

He shakes her hand, polite smile still in place. "Nice to meet you, Ellen. I'm Meyer."

The clubs also help him get to know a little bit about everyone -- and information, he's always been well aware -- is vital, especially in a place like this.

Dilandau's sitting carefully on the grass, watching the proceedings carefully. He's had a lot of wariness beaten into him lately, as the colourful bruising across his face testifies, even though he's tried to hide some of it by leaving his hair loose.

He knows this meeting isn't going to make him happy. He wants to hunt, but he's in no state to, and small tasks that involve little movement won't satisfy him. Still, it'll be better than doing nothing and he hopes to soothe some of the damage he's inflicted on his reputation by being constructive.

When someone catches his eye he nods to them, playing nice.

Wallie did volunteer for this sort of thing, although now he's not really sure. Not that he has any call to be squeamish. Not that he doubts the necessity of the task, but he's not a hunter. Give him a fishing rod and he'll doubtlessly have better luck. At least he's willing to learn.

He nibbles a little on something he's find as he mills about. For once, he's left his sword behind. Shonsu would not have approved, but there's a lot of people here, and this isn't an occassion to pick a fight. So he hopes.

To be fair, Dirk has been eyeing the vegetable trays with much the same level of distaste. He may have to resort to this, but for now he's keeping his reservations about taking advantage the green and leafy stuff. Anyway, who's to say any of this isn't completely poisonous? Surely there should be some sort of courageous poison-checker making sure that all the kind people of the town don't die of salad.

He's watching to see what other people eat without dying when he's bumped into from behind. The apology delays any objection, but when he turns around, his eyes are drawn to the half-carrot in the man's hands, rather than the man himself. "No problem. What poison is it that looks like a carrot? Mandrake?" He squints at it for a moment before coming to his conclusion with a grin. "Hemlock!" Finally, he looks up at the man, his eyes wide and seeking information. This guy probably knows what's up, right? If he's willing to eat something that might be Hemlock. "What's the difference again? Hemlock is lighter? I'm fairly sure that's it."

...shit. Is he eating hemlock? It tastes like carrot. What does hemlock taste like? He wouldn't know because it's freaking poison, and is he eating poison? He doesn't look freaked out, but now he's worried as he frowns down at the potentially traitorous vegetable in his hand.

"This is definitely a carrot," he says, though he isn't definite on that idea at all. He pretends to be though. "Who would put poison on the vegetable tray at the hunting and fishing meeting? Anyway, it tastes like carrot, so." So just defy that one, strange guy who's too worked up about vegetables.

"What kinda way to say hi is that?" Yeah, it's his fault! For the... thing.

"You friends with Ruby?" She likes the girl. Anyone who thinks that running a still is a good idea is good people.

Ellen leans over and takes a bite of something. She's hungry, but cooking isn't on her list of top priorities. Besides, she needs to see about getting a bow or a cross bow. Hunting with napalm seems like a bad idea.

She needs to find Cas and apologize for that. Her eyes flicker around the gathering. There's people here she doesn't recognize, but at least the bitch Meg isn't here.

"We've talked a couple times, yeah," he replies, well aware that having talked to someone doesn't mean he's their friend, necessarily. "She told me about this meeting, and I thought I'd see what we're working with here."

He can't gauge the skill level of the assembled crowd just from looking at them, can't know about their previous hunting experience or what hidden talents they might have. He doubts that he looks like much of a threat, as far as being a good shot goes, and he kind of like it that way.

"You have much hunting experience?" he asks her casually, wanting to obtain as much information as he can.

Dilandau immediately notices the missing possession. It's hard not to, with a weapon that size. He slowly levers himself off of his feet and wanders over.

"What's this? Are you planning to strangle the food, or are you just going to hit it with those big arms of yours?"

He stops just out of Wallie's arm reach until he gets a feel for if the man wants to join in on exacting justice for the failed plan.

He has no desire for justice or revenge. If anything, Wallie just feels sorry for Dilandau, and he looks over at him with a wry expression.

"I never quite got comfortable with being armed in a social setting," he says. "I was hoping to be given a fishing rod. I think that's more my speed." He grins, briefly. "How are you doing?"

That grin is met with a brief glare. Bastard, he knows how ugly he looks after his beating, even with his hair in his face to try hide the damage.

"Cracked ribs. I've been told I've got to live as boring a life as possible for the next Moon if I want them to heal fast."

If the sullen look on his face is anything to go by, he's not enjoying his rest.

"Sticking the worms on the fish hooks might be all I'm good for at the moment."

Wallie's smile fades a little, and he sighs.

"You're lucky. We all are."

Was it pessimistic of him to assume it would work out like this? It's... unfortunate. He would have liked it to work.

"Have you ever been fishing? Very relaxing. I'd take you out. It'd be good for you."

If Clint wasn't so banged up he probably would have smiled back. He would have probably been a little more tolerable, but right now he's just oblivious and focusing on the mission. Natasha would be amazed he's been able to keep focused on something this long with so many women around to actually look at. "Civilized is probably the least of our concerns lately. You did alright." He's almost certain they're not at the point of this situation being hardcore. They still got a forest and that's good right?

"Big kid Boy Scouts just sounds sad. I was never a Boy Scout though. I was in the military and I worked for a carnival for a while. Sometimes we didn't make too much money. You gotta learn to stretch food to feed a lot of mouths." He's actually kind of surprised by what she's been able to do with what she found in the forest. "Do you have any survival training?"

"You'd be surprised. I was once one hired by a woman to investigate her husband's death. Turns out she'd been canning hemlock from the back garden and feeding it to him thinking it was carrots. Bit of a shock for her." He shrugs. He hadn't gotten paid for that one.

"You'll know to do better next time." That is what he meant, right? Dirk is just going to assume that Dean was talking about the way he bumped into his unceremoniously. Nevertheless, he offers his hand out to shake. He's completely willing to forgive him.

"Let's make an improvement, shall we? Dirk Gently, holistic detective." He smiles. "And, besides an expert in carrots, you are?"

Edited 2013-06-14 11:34 (UTC)

"In streams, but never in the ocean." He goes quiet as he thinks about it. It's not something he would have chosen to do, but now that he considers the offer...

"I wouldn't mind it, but you're going have to row." The notion is actually quite appealing. He can't quite pin down why, but something about the smell of the sea air is soothing.

"The ocean's one of the few things here that's exactly the same as on Gaia."

Edited 2013-06-15 01:08 (UTC)

Think of that scrumptious carnality twice in one day

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