(no subject)
Ray had been spending most of his time ignoring the rest of the island population except for the random children of the weekend. Obviously Canadians were also an exception as they were rarely if ever irritating.
Dief was good company and as long as they walked around the jungle he didn't have to worry about every single woman stopping to stoop and pet the wolf. That just got old after awhile. Ray also liked the random cat that seemed to be living in the compound. She had a tendency to hiss and he had a tendency to scowl. So it was like hanging out with Stanley only Lucky seemed to get that really the whole complaining every time she rubbed up against his leg was actually a sign of affection. Then again, if Kowalski did anything like that to Vecchio's leg... Yeah, gross. Not allowed.
Deep down, the cop knew that he should have been trying to make friends. That probably a wolf and a cat weren't actually the same thing as people friends. But he had Benny. Sometimes. Maybe he'd have to give branching out a try but the idea made him uncomfortable somehow. Like he was admitting defeat and letting the island win.
Since the weirdo with the television wasn't into basketball, Ray ended up watching golf and fishing. Even when the Canadian passed out. It was something to do. It was something like normal and he found the banal Midwest accents of the guys hosting the shows soothing.
As a result, Vecchio's new project was fishing rods. They too were something normal. Fishing was normal. The act of fishing ineffectively while drinking beer was one of the greatest American pasttimes. And while Ray had no desire to see his father ever again, he had always liked fishing when he was a little kid.
So he was currently at one of the tables in the rec room frowning over his supplies. Ray had bamboo, string, two paperclips (he'd taken then from Turnbull as payback for the office claim-jumping), and some other odds and ends that he was hoping would provide him with something like a reel.
Benny would know what to do to get the damn thing to actually transform itself into a useful means of obtaining fish but then he would probably end up with a rod made from whale fat and the tail of a boar. And probably some Inuit story about the brave little fisherman who got turned into a walrus after pissing off some mermaid.
The cop licked his lips thoughtfully and grimaced. What he really needed was a spool. Or, you know, a proper fishing rod. Ray was a lot of things, but at the end of the day, he was never going to cut it as a Macgyver.
The cat was staring as he started trying to figure out a way to attach the rope to the bamboo.
"You wanna play?"
He was pretty sure Lucky was wrinkling her nose at the fishing pole.
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't expect any fish if you're gonna criticize all my hard work." God, he was turning into Jon Arbuckle.
[ooc: Open to anyone although he'd probably like to talk to Fraser, Frannie, or Anne or the other Ray.]
Dief was good company and as long as they walked around the jungle he didn't have to worry about every single woman stopping to stoop and pet the wolf. That just got old after awhile. Ray also liked the random cat that seemed to be living in the compound. She had a tendency to hiss and he had a tendency to scowl. So it was like hanging out with Stanley only Lucky seemed to get that really the whole complaining every time she rubbed up against his leg was actually a sign of affection. Then again, if Kowalski did anything like that to Vecchio's leg... Yeah, gross. Not allowed.
Deep down, the cop knew that he should have been trying to make friends. That probably a wolf and a cat weren't actually the same thing as people friends. But he had Benny. Sometimes. Maybe he'd have to give branching out a try but the idea made him uncomfortable somehow. Like he was admitting defeat and letting the island win.
Since the weirdo with the television wasn't into basketball, Ray ended up watching golf and fishing. Even when the Canadian passed out. It was something to do. It was something like normal and he found the banal Midwest accents of the guys hosting the shows soothing.
As a result, Vecchio's new project was fishing rods. They too were something normal. Fishing was normal. The act of fishing ineffectively while drinking beer was one of the greatest American pasttimes. And while Ray had no desire to see his father ever again, he had always liked fishing when he was a little kid.
So he was currently at one of the tables in the rec room frowning over his supplies. Ray had bamboo, string, two paperclips (he'd taken then from Turnbull as payback for the office claim-jumping), and some other odds and ends that he was hoping would provide him with something like a reel.
Benny would know what to do to get the damn thing to actually transform itself into a useful means of obtaining fish but then he would probably end up with a rod made from whale fat and the tail of a boar. And probably some Inuit story about the brave little fisherman who got turned into a walrus after pissing off some mermaid.
The cop licked his lips thoughtfully and grimaced. What he really needed was a spool. Or, you know, a proper fishing rod. Ray was a lot of things, but at the end of the day, he was never going to cut it as a Macgyver.
The cat was staring as he started trying to figure out a way to attach the rope to the bamboo.
"You wanna play?"
He was pretty sure Lucky was wrinkling her nose at the fishing pole.
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't expect any fish if you're gonna criticize all my hard work." God, he was turning into Jon Arbuckle.
[ooc: Open to anyone although he'd probably like to talk to Fraser, Frannie, or Anne or the other Ray.]