how can a fox ever be happy without, you'll forgive the expression, a chicken in its teeth?
Who: OPEN POST---Anyone! Sparrow, Maturin, Toothless and Hiccup, that Jedi, that boxing kid, Bliss, maybe some actual turkeys, possibly an angry honey badger
What: Turkey Hunting for Thanksgiving
When: Friday Nov. 18th: early morning --> whenever
Where: The forest north & west of C1
Summary: Jack Sparrow is set to procure the Roast Beast for the ( Read more... )
What: Turkey Hunting for Thanksgiving
When: Friday Nov. 18th: early morning --> whenever
Where: The forest north & west of C1
Summary: Jack Sparrow is set to procure the Roast Beast for the ( Read more... )
Comments 233
So far, turkey hunting mostly seemed to consist of stalking quietly through the undergrowth and peering around large clumps of trees. Jack knew the birds were large; he suspected they could be ferocious when cornered. He wanted to be ready.
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That? That was Jack being a bit testy and sarcastic, mostly because he just put his foot into something nasty as Hiccup was speaking.
It looked like stoat droppings.
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Mac’s worn shoes sank into mounds of soft snow, the air seared his throat and his lungs, misting silver as he breathed out. He had started jogging at a light, easy pace, as always, and once his body quit whining and accepted the fact that he wasn't going to curl in bed and throw on a blanket anytime soon, he had felt a sort of weightlessness and tireless determination take hold of him. He pretended he was trying to keep up with Doc's cycling - and gazing forward, he drove himself onwards, harder and faster, lactic acid burning in his muscles...
And then, all at once, his focused trance shattered.
"Whoa, shii- -!!"
The world flipped upside-down in a sickening blur of colour and he was suddenly lifted high off the ground, suspended from a tree branch by a length of rope around his foot. His heart hammered dizzyingly hard in his chest.
Well, crap.
His body swayed gently from side to side, accompanied by the creeeeeeaking of… something. Either the rope or the branch, he figured - and he sure hoped to God ( ... )
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FANTASTIC---yet another trap sprung to no helpful purpose. Jack pauses beneath the short-statured boxer, rather enjoying the graceful swinging motion of the man tied to the tree.
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If there was anything Mac was certain of, it was that he couldn’t stay like this forever - or rather, that he couldn’t simply wait and pray someone would just happen to come along and lend a hand before his butt froze off, if such a thing were a possible. Or wait for the Malnosso to collect him, if that were the case. The latter sent an ugly frisson through him, threatening to turn his spine to water.
In a passing moment’s regret, he wished he hadn’t left his jacket at home; sure, its bulkiness would have weighed him down, also causing him overheat and sweat heavily within five minutes of vigorous jogging, but he clearly wasn’t capable of running while dangling from a tree.
Fortunately, there was something he could do, he realized, with a sudden and rare flash of genius. Just short of attempting his escape, however, an unexpected voice ( ... )
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"Aye, it's one of my traps!" Jack seemed a bit put out by the whole thing after the initial amusement had passed. He needed to bring his women a turkey! And so far, all he was finding was...people. People who had NO BUSINESS WALKING IN THE WOODS TODAY. Forget the teddy bears' picnic, this is a SERIOUS reason not to be out.
"What mean you by springing it? It's meant for turkeys!"
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By and by the headcase found himself trotting along with the viking and the dragon. His awesome powers of selective observation allowed him to be unphased by said dragon for the time being.
"Think this'll be over in time for lunch?"
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At least he had nicked a warmer coat and gloves before the snow hit. 'Nicked.' The words made him chuckle to himself. Everything was free--what was there to nick?
His wanderings had taken him out into the woods. Armed with his book, he was sure he would be able to find his way back without event. Getting lost again was not on his list of things to do that day.
He yawned, and took a misstep.
He didn't expect the sudden zipping of ropes stretching taut, or to be hurled off his feet and into the air.
Lupin III, an internationally wanted criminal and a man of extraordinary cleverness, had fallen into the oldest trap in the book.
"Oh, very cleverHe kicked at the netting that held him suspended in the air, wrapped as neatly as a box of shoes for Christmas. ( ... )
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Or not.
The pirate stood beneath this particular sprung trap and sighed. Catching people you hadn't meant to catch added so much WORK onto this whole venture. Not to mention the sad fact of no turkeys.
"Oh, bugger...You're not a turkey, mate."
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He had found his cigarettes, and had been enjoying them when the man came. He blew smoke in the stranger's direction.
And you're not Bugs Bunny, he wanted to say.
"That's what this is for?" Lupin stared at the guy incredulously instead. "you need a gun if you're going turkey hunting, not these little net traps!
"...do you have a way of getting me down?"
May as well be polite. His immediate plan of escape involved his lighter, which would mess up the net for future...'hunting.'
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"And then perhaps you can share your turkeying strategies with myself, a benighted pirate."
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"Jack. What...exactly is a turkey anyway? You just said it was for some feast, but what is it?"
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"Picture a bird, savvy? Now picture a bird what can run fast on its taloned feet. Big fierce talons. And then, on its chin? A beard made of horrid rubbery hairless skin. This skin also grows out of its nose."
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