[Sam Tyler] What's cookin'?
Who: Sam Tyler, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Locke
When: Day 36, evening
Where: The cook/signal fire (eventually)
Invited: Everyone
Status: Complete
Sam's quarry stank. He strode out of the jungle praying that the pair of dead, overgrown lemmings he carried -- he hadn't a clue what the Corgi-sized rodents were -- hadn't permanently stunk ( Read more... )
When: Day 36, evening
Where: The cook/signal fire (eventually)
Invited: Everyone
Status: Complete
Sam's quarry stank. He strode out of the jungle praying that the pair of dead, overgrown lemmings he carried -- he hadn't a clue what the Corgi-sized rodents were -- hadn't permanently stunk ( Read more... )
She'd take him aside later, just; not yet.
Marcus took the plate from Aeryn with a small smile of thanks, then looked at Stephen, "so you're saying that even if I am feeling fine, (which I am, by the way), then I'm not allowed to use that word?" He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he looked between those gathered close by. "So what am I to say? I'm tickety boo?" he cast a quick wink to Sam, aware that it was an anachronistic phrase, that was wholly English.
"Or am I to say that I'm feeling weak as a kitten and that I can't do any work on a shelter? Or even to lie to you all and say that I'm on death's door." he whispered the last, feigning a weakness to his voice that spoke of ailment and frailty.
"Or should I just say that I'm fine and make you suffer for it?" Really, he FELT fine, there wasn't any other description for it, considering he'd been dead this morning.
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Stephen's appearance at fireside garnered a smile from the commander, though it shifted slightly towards the ... amused. She briefly considered tossing something at him, but other than small sand pebbles and the few broken shells, she was at a loss. "I thought you'd have noticed that I actually own a set last physical you made me go through."
She made a face at the mention of the ... less than culinarily disposed Pak'ma'ra, and shook her head. "You know... I don't know if they had meatballs... and truthfully, I'm pretty sure I'll live a happy life not knowing the answer." For the benefit of others, she added, "The Pak'ma'ra. Carrion eaters... anything dead was fair game. Dead for longer periods of time, even better. Those aliens that required encounter suits to breathe our air even complained about their... unique..." Odor? Stench? "Well, you didn't want to get into the lift with one."
Boar? Susan's brows rose, her curiousity piqued. "Sounds like a hunting team, then?" While she probably wouldn't go, the idea was interesting. "You're that good with a slingshot?"
Aeryn got a curious look, a questionning glance, though she'd let it be for now. The fact that she got Marcus a plate gave the commander a pang of guilt, and she, too, looked over at the Ranger in brief apology. She'd never considered doing that before; he was a big boy... and, honestly, she didn't even know what he preferred-- meat? Vegetables? She didn't cook Minbari food, and even if she knew, she was no cook...
However, as Marcus began his treatise on how 'well' he felt, she had to grin. Stephen asked for it; opened the door, put out the welcome mat-- "Oh, I don't think he's suffered anywhere near enough." Particularly for the 'leg' comment. She looked at the Ranger, her hand waving the frond, "I got lessons-- From Sam and Molly. After I revisit mine, I can actually help with that..." Kitten! If she was sitting near him, she could elbow him, but he's out of range. Little disappointed, honestly.
Settling in a little, there came a question that she'd actually considered, speaking of shelters. "What's the watch rotation overnight? It's actually something I can help with." Which then allowed Susan and Marcus to hotbunk, assuming, of course, the Ranger chose to take a shift as well. "I assume four hours on, four off?" She paused... "Or...?"
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