(Untitled)

May 23, 2007 22:00

[OOM: A few months after Ramelle, a Ranger finds a new adventure ( Read more... )

spoon, magic puppy, michaelangelo, john miller

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Comments 52

there_is_a_me May 24 2007, 02:09:05 UTC
Spoon still doesn't like uniforms. He's willing and able, however, to ignore American ones. So the werewolf, having returned from his beating of the punching bag, gives the new guy a small nod.

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earn_this May 24 2007, 02:13:20 UTC
As uniformed and equiped for combat as he may be- he still wears all the gear he landed with at Omaha- there's something else about the man. Something that Spoon may be able to pick out over the smell of weeks worth of wearing and moving.

The nod gets John's attention causeing the Ranger to turn his head a little in his direction. It's almost a shocked look that feels his eyes though nothing crosses his face. A good minute later the officer is nodding at Spoon, very slow at first but more confident the second go about.

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there_is_a_me May 24 2007, 02:15:41 UTC
If there is something in his smell, Spoon will get it. He may not understand it, but he'll pick it up. Spoon's nose is perfect. "New?" the Brit asks quietly, watching the uniform with a wary expression.

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earn_this May 24 2007, 02:21:02 UTC
It's the smell of someone..not living. A mere mask of a man that used to be.

The fact that the man- a British man- was speaking to him again caused the man to pause. There weren't any of them in Ramelle, he thinks to himself letting eyes narrow slightly in Spoon's direction. Laughter soon starts to bubble up in a faint chuckle as John's face finally breaks into a very weak smile.

"I would guess so." Pause. "Where is this?"

Raising his free left hand the Ranger makes a very small jesture about the room.

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earn_this May 24 2007, 02:25:21 UTC
John blinks once in the other man's direction. It was very rare for people to speak with him let alone speak with him. The edges of his lips twitch downward slightly giving him a chance to glance left and right. Noone was beside of him.

"Hello," comes the almost uncertain reply, almost fearing words would fail him. Stepping foward his booted feet fall against the wooden floor as he starts towards the bar.

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earn_this May 24 2007, 02:43:31 UTC
At the mention of a drink John looks down at his right hand. The tremors had long vanished, but his canteen had always been a good way to cover it up. "What do you have that's good?"

Glanceing up at the barman as he asks the question gives the Captain a chance to slide onto one of the stools. He carefully sets the helmet down beside of him giving a good pat to make sure it wouldn't slide off.

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