(no subject)
Ford Prefect was bored. So Ford Prefect was hunting.
Ford’s technique seemed to consist mainly of standing still for a while and smiling.
After a while an animal -a deer perhaps- would appear from out of the trees and watch him cautiously. Ford would continue to smile at it, his eyes would soften and shine, and he would seem to radiate a deep and universal love, a love which reached out to embrace all of creation. A wonderful quietness would descend on the surrounding countryside, peaceful and serene, emanating from this transfigured man. Slowly the deer would approach, step by step, until it was almost nuzzling him, whereupon Ford Prefect would reach out to it and break its neck.
“Pheromone control,” he said it was, “you just have to know how to generate the right smell.”
That was how it usually went. It was a bit harder on the island, especially since his telepsychic powers were gone. But Ford liked the challenge of getting it right regardless of whether or not the universe wanted to fuck with him. It gave him a momentary sense of purpose.
Just getting to the point where any animals would come close enough to him took far longer than he would have liked, but eventually it happened and from then on it was easy. Of course, he didn't have much to do with the animals afterwards though. He'd skin them and debate doing something with the meat. Usually he just chucked it over to the dinosaur side of the island. He didn't want to be seen as contributing to the island's sorry little culture.
Ford Prefect looked down at the most recently killed deer/goat/animal-thing and wiped his hands off on his towel. He wasn't going to give them any of his leather either. He almost had enough to make a jacket now.
[OOC: Happy belated Towel Day! Have a Ford. Italics from Adams because I would fail at trying to describe it one my own.]
Ford’s technique seemed to consist mainly of standing still for a while and smiling.
After a while an animal -a deer perhaps- would appear from out of the trees and watch him cautiously. Ford would continue to smile at it, his eyes would soften and shine, and he would seem to radiate a deep and universal love, a love which reached out to embrace all of creation. A wonderful quietness would descend on the surrounding countryside, peaceful and serene, emanating from this transfigured man. Slowly the deer would approach, step by step, until it was almost nuzzling him, whereupon Ford Prefect would reach out to it and break its neck.
“Pheromone control,” he said it was, “you just have to know how to generate the right smell.”
That was how it usually went. It was a bit harder on the island, especially since his telepsychic powers were gone. But Ford liked the challenge of getting it right regardless of whether or not the universe wanted to fuck with him. It gave him a momentary sense of purpose.
Just getting to the point where any animals would come close enough to him took far longer than he would have liked, but eventually it happened and from then on it was easy. Of course, he didn't have much to do with the animals afterwards though. He'd skin them and debate doing something with the meat. Usually he just chucked it over to the dinosaur side of the island. He didn't want to be seen as contributing to the island's sorry little culture.
Ford Prefect looked down at the most recently killed deer/goat/animal-thing and wiped his hands off on his towel. He wasn't going to give them any of his leather either. He almost had enough to make a jacket now.
[OOC: Happy belated Towel Day! Have a Ford. Italics from Adams because I would fail at trying to describe it one my own.]