Sweet Ninja Jesus
Gunn didn't know it, but today marked his first year on Tabula Rasa. While he guesstimated that he'd been there for about that time, he had never taken to checking up on the calendar compulsively. As boring as it could around those parts, things had never gotten that bad. And anyway, measuring time always made it seem like it was going just that much slower.
But if he had known, he probably would've been doing something else, like drinking some of that nasty stuff they passed for liquor or finding someone to bake him a cake, because, as far as he knew, building what he had taken to calling the 'pig palace' didn't exactly qualify as a way to celebrate his one year on Crazy Ass Island.
As it was, the pig palace would have to do.
After about a week of getting woken up in the middle of the night by Hamet and Ophelia doing God knows what, Gunn had finally decided that enough was enough and there was no way in hell that he was going to keep sharing his room with a couple of demonic pigs every time it rained. He liked animals well enough and all but sometimes a guy just had to take a stand for all that was holy. Holy, in this case, being his room.
It had been a while since Gunn had built much of anything, but building wasn't something that was that easy to forget, even after a year. Besides, it was something he'd been good at back home in Los Angeles. After all, he had been the mastermind behind the tricked out warehouse they'd all been living back in the day. He was about twenty feet away from the hut he shared with Wesley and the basic structure of the pig palace was already in place. It was about eight feet by eight feet and stood at about four feet tall, plenty of room for a couple of pigs, demonic or otherwise.
"Man," he said, crossing his arms as he took a step back to admire his handiwork, "I swear, if Gus ever shows his Canadian ass around here again, I'm gonna kill him dead."
Hamlet, who had been sniffing around Gunn's feet all afternoon, eyed his future palace curiously before giving what Gunn swore to Sweet Ninja Jesus was one pig snort of approval.
ST/LT accepted. Timed to late afternoon on the 30th.
But if he had known, he probably would've been doing something else, like drinking some of that nasty stuff they passed for liquor or finding someone to bake him a cake, because, as far as he knew, building what he had taken to calling the 'pig palace' didn't exactly qualify as a way to celebrate his one year on Crazy Ass Island.
As it was, the pig palace would have to do.
After about a week of getting woken up in the middle of the night by Hamet and Ophelia doing God knows what, Gunn had finally decided that enough was enough and there was no way in hell that he was going to keep sharing his room with a couple of demonic pigs every time it rained. He liked animals well enough and all but sometimes a guy just had to take a stand for all that was holy. Holy, in this case, being his room.
It had been a while since Gunn had built much of anything, but building wasn't something that was that easy to forget, even after a year. Besides, it was something he'd been good at back home in Los Angeles. After all, he had been the mastermind behind the tricked out warehouse they'd all been living back in the day. He was about twenty feet away from the hut he shared with Wesley and the basic structure of the pig palace was already in place. It was about eight feet by eight feet and stood at about four feet tall, plenty of room for a couple of pigs, demonic or otherwise.
"Man," he said, crossing his arms as he took a step back to admire his handiwork, "I swear, if Gus ever shows his Canadian ass around here again, I'm gonna kill him dead."
Hamlet, who had been sniffing around Gunn's feet all afternoon, eyed his future palace curiously before giving what Gunn swore to Sweet Ninja Jesus was one pig snort of approval.
ST/LT accepted. Timed to late afternoon on the 30th.