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Snipe-Hunt
Snipe-Hunt - Part 1 Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *The drive is almost two hours--and as fast as Montana's driving, that's a lot of miles. Lance is almost bouncing in his see with anticipation, watching the countryside pass by, until they're off on side roads and he points.* That's the spot, there. Ought to be perfect. Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: (*SNickers* Get Firefox. Best browser EVER!) *Ruarc doesn't seem to mind or car about the speed. He seems a little nervous since this is new to him and he doesn't want to fuck up. Though he does seem interested in all this. Montana: Montana doesn't pull any crazy stunts on the two hour drive, it is a mac truck she driving not a sports car. Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): ((heard a lot about FF but I'm pretty happy with Opera.)) *The part he's pointing out is near a creek, set a little ways away from the road.* Montana: She parks the truck off the road and of course secures it once everyone is out. Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *And is the first out--holding Montana's door for her, then looking around.* Now, if you give 'em the chance, they'll go to water--and the little buggers can ~swim~. So me an' Montana are gonna start near the creek to drive 'em ~away~ from the water, 'cuz the ones that make it in we're gonna lose. Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *Gets out, glancing around. He walks off maybe 10 ft towards the creek to look it over then glances at Lance* So time to have some fun? Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Nods.* Come on. *And starts walking--parallel to the road mostly, then at almost right angles, up over the hill down the backside of it--nearly half a mile, really.* Be less distance if we just went direct, but we walk right over where we're gonna drive 'em and they'll go ever' which way. Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *Follows, starting to grin a little.* So, if I got this straight. You two driving towards me and I just crunch them good, right? Starting to sound like that Wack a mole game. Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Chuckles.* Well, they're a little biggern' your average mole, but otherwise... yeah, pretty much. Here's the spot. Remember, they'll feel the vibrations--kinda like snakes or fish do--in the ground, so don't move any moren' you have to until you see 'em. Then have at 'em for all you're worth. Montana: Follows Lance, keeping her foot step as quiet as she can along the way. Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *That gets a chuckle, following them.* ALrighty, sounds easy enough. Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Nods and waits until he gets into position.* We're gonna have to go the long way around again to get back, same as gettin' here, and the drivin' will be a little slow. Might be... hell, along with the walkin', maybe an hour. *Squeezes Montana's waist, apparently not aware he's doing it.* Mebbe more. Remember not to move around any. Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *Shifts down to lupus, stretches out a bit and seems rather happy being out here. Sniffs around before finally finding a place to wait. * Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Nods.* We'll try to hurry. *And does indeed, not at a trot but a fairly fast walk, back over the hill and out of sight.* Montana: "Definately don't want to scare them off with too much movement before we're ready to herd them toward you." She doesn't say anything when Lance squeezes her waist, nor does she look uncomfortable with it. It could be that Ruarc's already seen them hugging. Montana: Keeping pace with Lance over the hill. Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *And time passes. And passes some more. And continues to pass.* Montana: Waiting with Lance Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *He just sits, waiting. He has lots he can think over though he keeps his ears open, which is pretty easy for a wolf. * Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *The hill and the wind blocks most of the sound coming that way--a good sign, likely, since the snipe won't hear him on the other side of it either. The sky goes from sunset to dark, the usual night sounds beginning.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *The wolf just waits....waits. Glancing towards the way he figures they may come. Debating about how to deal with all this when it goes down* Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *The moon comes up, bright and full. An hour passes. Then an hour and a half, then two hours. That hill and the damn wind block most sound, but he doesn't hear anything moving.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *He knows the truck hasn't left so they didn't ditch him. He doubts they'd be screwing out here, but who knows what sorta of wierd kink the gnawer has. He can wait though. He can recite many things to himself to keep himself amused* Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Between the hill and the wind and a half-mile of distance, he probably wouldn't have heard the truck firing up, but considering the way he was squeezing her waist that's a possibility. Another half-hour passes, then the third hour.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *3 hours, he's getting antsy. Reciting the litany gets boring after all, stories...but he's suppose to be paying attention. He'll be sure to get a good sniff of them both to make sure they weren't doing something else while he sat and waited...granted this isn't much different then most nights. * Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *The wind lulls occasionally as the night passes, but even without the wind he can't hear anything but occasion traffic passing on the road a few hundred yards away. Three and a half hours, then four, and it's comin' on to 11 at night.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *He's so gonna stink bomb Lance's shack if they ditched him. He's already thinking over a few possiblitys for revenge. Maybe just a nice little tale about a gnawer and a kin, maybe a strider kin to spread around. Oh not of Lance and Montana of course.* Lance Kilkenny (Backdated. Let's get us some snipe!): *Of course, with the moon nice and full he's probably hoping for something like that to relieve the monotony. But such dark thoughts at least make the time pass quicker--to 11:30, then to midnight.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *A temptation to sing out, but he knows he shouldn't. Least not till this is over with. Gives a sigh, or as close as he can anyway. Waiting.....waiting....He's starting ot hate waiting. * Snipe-Hunt ST (frickin' machine): *and... Nothing. The wind's died down, at least, but he still doesn't hear anything from the other side of the hill.* Snipe-Hunt ST (frickin' machine): *As time continues to pass. Now half past, and now one in the morning.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *Now he sneaks up the hill carefully like, to peer over. So help them if he sees them rolling around in the grass...* Snipe-Hunt ST (frickin' machine): *No, they're not rolling around in the grass. In fact, the meadow is empty. No Lance, no Montana, no snipe... no truck.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *Seeing the truck gone...that pisses him off. He sniffs around the area, wondering how long they've been gone. He's defiently fucking with them now. * Snipe-Hunt ST (frickin' machine): *How long? Close to six hours, most likely.* Ruarc Brónach`~Taste like chicken?~: *He gives a most upset howl, this getting his rage up...Sulking for a moment before running back towards the city which will take him all night now till morning. Side stepping to finish the run into the city till he gets home.* (Guess thats, that.)
Snipe-Hunt - Part 2 - In the yard Ruarc Brónach: *He's more then figured it out. He's been thinking over 'how best to pay them back'. The gauntlet parts nearby before the fianna comes out. A glare to Lance and Montana, not even seeming to notice Tarence or Damien. No stop at the washer just a straight line to a unclaimed car. Climbs up on the hood. Though not controled by his rage like many, he's having a very tough time holding in check. His breathing heavy, teeth clenched. * Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Ruarc! Where the fuck WERE you, man! Damien Rangore: *His curiousity turns from Lance and Montana, to Ruarc-...Brows raising at the rather angry looking Fianna. This can't be good-...* Montana James: Lance took the words right out of her mouth. Ruarc Brónach: *Just glares at Lance a moment, his words not really sinkning in. Eyes jumping between him and Montana. He takes his time, considering what to say. Breathing coming slow, very controled* Where the fuck, was I? No, I believe the quesition should be, why the fuck did the two of you leave me out there? Some sort of joke I take? Not a very nice thing to do after I promissed to keep my mouth shout. *Deciding to leave things at that, least for now. * Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Whoa, whoa... We couldn't frickin' ~find~ you--I thought you'd just given up on us and hit the Umbra. We'd... stopped for a few minutes--an' maybe we got the wrong place or somethin'. Called out, but that friggin' hill and the wind might've blocked the sound. Did you catch any snipe? Damien Rangore: *If he was anyone else, he probably wouldn't want to know-...But for now he watches in the continued silence* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Oh, you went snipe hunting!? Man, why didn't anyone tell me? We used to hunt them all the time up in Michigan. That's some good eating fo sho! Montana James: Angry garou, she lets Lance do the talking. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I always sucked at catching 'em, though. Holding the flashlight in the bag and all that. Giving out their call. Couldn't sit still long enough. Ruarc Brónach: *A quick look at Tarence, the anger is just there. Nothing really even being attempted to hide it. His gaze resting on Lance once more. A hand combs through his hair, trying to relax perhsps. * I was in the same place you left me. You should have tried howling, the wind probably wouldn't have drowned that out. *Looks away, glaring off down the maze as if not looking at them might help. * I sat there for hours, waiting. Imagine my...surprise when I finally left where you told me to stay. *A slight twitch, hand bured in his jacket* No...Snipe is a bird...not a rodent. *What? Did he look something up? * Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Hell, the ones I ate were rodents... Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: An' howling? That woulda scared 'em off for sure. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Lance, you done told this boy all wrong. They /are/ birds. Somebody was just yankin' your chain, honky. We'd catch 'em by the dozens in Michigan, and they /do/ come down here for the winter. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: What the hell did I ~eat~, then? Aw, shit.... Ruarc Brónach: If you where ready to leave, then I think scaring them away would have been a moot point. Don't you agree? *Still not very happy but slowely he's coming down. Still staring off at the maze. With a slight sigh he finally looks at Lance agian, not glaring as bad at least. * You should bring me one sometime to try it, I suppose then. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Listen, now that you've brought it up, I'm in the mood for some of them snipe, but like I said, I can't sit still long enough...Hey Ruarc, if you're up for it, I promise I won't leave you. Check this out...*As he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the keys to his bike.* I'll even give you the keys when we get there, so I /can't/ leave you. Lance done told you all wrong how to do it. You gotta' get a bag and hold a flashlight in it, and there's a certain call that attracts them. They're drawn toward the light, thinking that predators won't come near it, and all you gotta' do is close the bag when they get in. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods, mentally debating whether to bring a muskrat, a woodchuck, or just some rabbit already skinned and quartered.* I can do that, but shit... Unless there's two kinds or something, I don't frickin'... Tarence>>You're sure about that? Ruarc Brónach: *Glances at Tarence, a slight smirk. It's a slight satisfaction. He still had to run the better part of a night to get home though. Looks between them a moment, thinking. He looks to Damien, giving him a nod and more mouthing then saying 'hey' * Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *He holds the keys up, and jingles them lightly* Huh? Damien Rangore: *He offers Ruarc a grin in return-..Still remaining just as silent as ever* Montana James: She lets the boy plan the hunting trip, she on the other hand sit down on the bench seat near the fire. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I'll even throw in this, if you manage to bring some back...*As he reaches into his bag, and pulls out a small gourd.*...I haven't had snipe in forever. Hell, it's so damn good, I want you to be able to try it, too. Ruarc Brónach: *Watches Tarence a moment. Okay really the keys. Seems to think the whole thing over before shaking his head ever so slightly.* Maybe another night, I don't feel up to it. *Nods, confirming his own words before looking around the area.* Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Shakes his head.* I ain't never had birds. If you can catch 'em, I wouldn't mind tryin' some. When I started huntin' 'em, all the way back to my first, I got the... wierd. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): You /do/ know what this is, don't you?...*As he tosses the gourd into the air and catches it lightly.* Damien Rangore: *His eyes follow the gourd as it's tossed up, merely curious before his eyes settle back on the Fianna-...Obviously having no damn clue what they are talking about, but seeming to hide it pretty well by a jaded look* Ruarc Brónach: *His eyes fallow the thing, a slight tilt of his head. * No, I actaully don't. *He glances at Lance, as if expecting him to add in something. Least the kin seems to be off his radar now. He's still not looking happy.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): It's Mother's Touch in a jar, friend...It's your reward for leading a successful hunt and bringing home the bacon. Ruarc Brónach: *That gets a curious look, eyeing it.* Are you serious? *Really wish's Ash was here right now. Thinks this offer over. Sure Tarence is crazy but even he couldn't be so foolish to tempt another garou.* Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Heads over to sit with Montana.* Anyways.... Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I want some snipe...and I know you want this...so how about we go huntin'? *Jangles the keys...tosses the gourd...jangles the keys...tosses the gourd.* Damien Rangore: *A glance up to the sky before yawning and sliding off the car hood. Offering a small wave to those present as he meanders off for the maze* Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods.* G'night, Damien. Montana James: Speaking quietly to Lance, "Will you be going on the hunt?" Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Later Damien. Damien Rangore: *Vanishes off into the maze* (( Night folks. )) Ruarc Brónach: Snipe is a shore bird, you sure they would be around here now? *The talen being just too tempting it would seem. Giving himself a frown before glancing around the place once more* You being legit about this? Your not gonna up and vanish? No going back on your word? Montana James: Waves to Damien as he leaves. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Shakes his head.* They'll be taking his bike, and there's barely room for two on it. I'll want the details, though, because I never hunted 'em like that. But if it works... I think it will. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *And whispers something in Montana's ear.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I'm offering you the keys, Ruarc. How the hell could I leave you? And, just so you know, the snipe can be found year-round in the northern states, in canada during mating season, in most of the US during the winter, and in the mountainous regions of the United States during their migration periods...trust me, I had to learn about them in a wildlife class. Montana James: She tilts her head slight to listen. Montana James: She chuckles. Ruarc Brónach: *He glares towards Montana chuckle thn at Lance, paranoid much? Slowely he looks at Tarence, grumbling softly as Damien leaves. * Alright...I'll do it. Montana James: She doesn't reply other then that chuckle. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Tarence>>Bring me back a couple, will ya? Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Yeah! Let's go! I'll drive, and when we get there, I'll fork over the keys, cool? Oh, and if we catch any, we won't give any to these too, as they didn't look out for their fellow hunters like they should have...*Shakes his head at them*...the nerve of you two. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Shit.... Montana James: Looking over at Tarence, "Hey, I couldn't look for him all night. I do have a job and Im sure he's quite capable of taking care of himself out in the woods." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Shakes his head.* I'm beginnin' to wonder.... Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Tarence holds up a hand* Ahahah!...don't wanna' hear it. Let's go, Ruarc. *As he begins to make his way towards the bike.* Ruarc Brónach: *He slides off the hood, watching Tarence carefully. He heads for the washer and pulling out a few beers and pockets them. He looks at Lance, raising and eyebrow at the Wonder comment.* About what? Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: (( http://www.iceage.inmyreality.com/cgi-bin/Ice.cgi )) Montana James: She shoots a glare at Tarence. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *shrugs.* Don't worry 'bout it. No need for it. Ruarc Brónach: (Ahhh crap. Heh ) *Glares from person to person, so help Tarence if it's a trick. A Fianna not being the best target for pranks. He's already quesitioning the sanity of the gnawers here. Follows Tarence grumbling slightly. *(Gond to link)( Montana James: Watches them leave, her glare to Tarence fases away and she chuckles. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Shhh.... *Waits until he hears the bike fire up.* Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: ((and assuming it did, since they're off on the trip now...)) *Chuckles himself.* Stay behind me when he gets back.... Montana James: "I will if I haven't already gone to bed." she smiles. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Grins.* Then we'll just have to wait 'til mornin'. Montana James: "You could just wait up.." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *GRins.* Are you askin' whether I'd prefer your company or his? Montana James: "No, but I know you want to see his reaction." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Chuckles.* Well, the best part will be with no one around. That's kind of the point of it... ~twice~.... Montana James: "he's going to be so mad." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Grins.* Oh, yeah... but seriously. TWICE? Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: Everybody falls for it once--if this didn't work I was gonna calm him down by pointing out that's how I learned about it--but twice? Montana James: She chuckles, "He almost didn't... that gourd was the bait and he took it. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods.* This is just beautiful, I swear.... Montana James: She grins, "This will be talk about for a long time." Montana James: She yawns, "I think I'm going to have to miss the return of the great hunters." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods, wrapping an arm around her waist.* I don't think it'll really make the Silver Record, but there's a lot of septs that are gonna be chuckling over this... Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods.* Well, you worked a lot hardern' I did today. Time to turn in, you think? Montana James: "I meant people talking about it here and giving Ruarc a hard tme about it." They're alone so she leans against him, relaxing. Montana James: "Yeah, soon. but right now I'm comfortable." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Nods.* That too. But it'll help him learn when to talk an' when not to... Montana James: "Maybe.. we can hope he learn the lesson." Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Smiles.* Good. So'm I. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Chuckles slightly, and leaves her there sitting with him for a few more minutes. Partly to let her get deep enough asleep so he can carry her in without waking her up, partly just because he likes to. Eventually, though, he lifts her up carefully and carries her into the shanty.* Montana James: She stirs a bit but doesn't wake up.. she'll sleep until morning unless a fight breaks out in the yard. Lance ''Rides-the-Storm'' Kilkenny: *Which, after laying down himself, Lance will to.* (('Nite, ma'am.))
Snipe-Hunt - Part 2 - Out in the Woods Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): ((We are ready.....)) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((I'm in white, as usual.)) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Tarence stops by a Wal-Mart on the way, and makes off with a flashlight and a box of big trashbags.* Ruarc Brónach: (Sorry, had to deal with IM's. Makes off? He ups and steals the?) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((Uh...yeah. What, you thought he was gonna' /pay/? He's a Gnawer...hell, the /bike/ is stolen.)) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *When he get's back outside to Ruarc, he's walking briskly, and hops back on, taking off.* Sorry, had to stop and use the pisser first... Ruarc Brónach: (*Snerks* Good point, not in my right mind tonight) *Watches Tarence, looking a little confused for a moment but decides to not say a thing. * Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Shouts are heard from behind, but they quickly die out, and Tarence doesn't really seem to care.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Tarence takes him out into the hills, a little ways away from town, and pulls off the road, the bike hopping about lightly as they make their way along for a little way, getting further in, before he finally shuts it off, and let's it rest on it's kickstand.* Ruarc Brónach: *He still seems untrusting, a Fianna scorned...He pulls the beers out and sets them down next to the bike to let them settle. * So, flash lights, bags and birds. This should be different. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *He nods* Yeah, that redneck don't know what he's talking about. Come on, let's get up the hill...*As he pulls a compass out of his bag, and measures his footsteps as he goes.* This way I won't lose you like they did. Ruarc Brónach: Still think they did it on purpose. *He follows, grumbling abit before holding his hand out* You said you'd hand your keys over, remember? *Said less harsh then he could ave. He's calmed alot but still not in a very good mood.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): That I did...*He stops measuring for a moment, and removes the key from his pocket, forking it over, and beginning again.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): That I did...*He stops measuring for a moment, and removes the key from his pocket, forking it over, and beginning again.* Ruarc Brónach: *Pockets them, following still, glancing around the area.* Do you think they did it on purpose? I mean, really. Lance claims to be some sort of survivolist and if he couldn't find the spo he left me at and I never left it....how bad is he to loose his own chosen space? Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Upon reaching the summit, Tarence looks around for a clearing, and removes one of the bags, and the flashlight, from his messenger bag, handing them to Ruarc.* Now, stand in this clearing, and hold the bag open. Shine your light in there, 'cause they'll come to it for safety. And you gotta' make their call, that way they /know/ it's safe...they'll think another of them is already in there, and lettin' 'em know it's a'ight to come in. The call goes like this...*he clears his throat lightly* Hooty-hoo! Hoooty-hoo!...got it? Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Night has fallen some time ago, this time, but with the moon up there's plenty of light. It's a pretty night out.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I don't know, man. i was able to get into his shack the other day, though, and they are / definitely/ doin' the nasty when we ain't around. He's a survivalist a'ight, but when it's dark...without having measured nothing out or taken any bearings? In an unfamiliar area? I bet he did lose you. I don't think Lance'd lie. He's a Fostern now...got a reputation to uphold. Ruarc Brónach: *Watching Tarence carefully a moment, the call not making any sense to him.* Are you serious? Hooty hoo? Here, lets see you do it first so I can see how it's done. How well it works and all that. *Just nods to his words, giving a bit of a grumble* Yeah, with rank reputation is that much more important...a Galliard wouldn't be the greatist to upset. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I told you, Ruarc, I can't do this part...I ain't patient enough. Get all antsy an' shit. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I gotta' go scare 'em up and send 'em this way. Ruarc Brónach: Hmm alright. *He's not trusting Tarence just yet. Moving to a point where he can see the bike, though he at least gets the bag and flash light ready. not quiet ready to do the call he's told he must do. * Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): * It's two in the morning. The bike is a long way away, through the woods. Good luck seeing it.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Tarence stops by a Wal-Mart on the way, and makes off with a flashlight and a box of big trashbags.* Ruarc Brónach: (Sorry, had to deal with IM's. Makes off? He ups and steals the?) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((Uh...yeah. What, you thought he was gonna' /pay/? He's a Gnawer...hell, the /bike/ is stolen.))
Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *When he get's back outside to Ruarc, he's walking briskly, and hops back on, taking off.* Sorry, had to stop and use the pisser first... Ruarc Brónach: (*Snerks* Good point, not in my right mind tonight) *Watches Tarence, looking a little confused for a moment but decides to not say a thing.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Shouts are heard from behind, but they quickly die out, and Tarence doesn't really seem to care.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Tarence takes him out into the hills, a little ways away from town, and pulls off the road, the bike hopping about lightly as they make their way along for a little way, getting further in, before he finally shuts it off, and let's it rest on it's kickstand.* Ruarc Brónach: *He still seems untrusting, a Fianna scorned...He pulls the beers out and sets them down next to the bike to let them settle. * So, flash lights, bags and birds. This should be different. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *He nods* Yeah, that redneck don't know what he's talking about. Come on, let's get up the hill...*As he pulls a compass out of his bag, and measures his footsteps as he goes.* This way I won't lose you like they did. Ruarc Brónach: Still think they did it on purpose. *He follows, grumbling abit before holding his hand out* You said you'd hand your keys over, remember? *Said less harsh then he could ave. He's calmed alot but still not in a very good mood.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): That I did...*He stops measuring for a moment, and removes the key from his pocket, forking it over, and beginning again.* Ruarc Brónach: *Pockets them, following still, glancing around the area.* Do you think they did it on purpose? I mean, really. Lance claims to be some sort of survivolist and if he couldn't find the spot he left me at and I never left it....how bad is he to loose his own chosen space? Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): *Upon reaching the summit, Tarence looks around for a clearing, and removes one of the bags, and the flashlight, from his messenger bag, handing them to Ruarc.* Now, stand in this clearing, and hold the bag open. Shine your light in there, 'cause they'll come to it for safety. And you gotta' make their call, that way they /know/ it's safe...they'll think another of them is already in there, and lettin' 'em know it's a'ight to come in. The call goes like this...*he clears his throat lightly* Hooty-hoo! Hoooty-hoo!...got it? Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Night has fallen some time ago, this time, but with the moon up there's plenty of light. It's a pretty night out.* Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I don't know, man. i was able to get into his shack the other day, though, and they are / definitely/ doin' the nasty when we ain't around. He's a survivalist a'ight, but when it's dark...without having measured nothing out or taken any bearings? In an unfamiliar area? I bet he did lose you. I don't think Lance'd lie. He's a Fostern now...got a reputation to uphold. Ruarc Brónach: *Watching Tarence carefully a moment, the call not making any sense to him.* Are you serious? Hooty hoo? Here, lets see you do it first so I can see how it's done. How well it works and all that. *Just nods to his words, giving a bit of a grumble* Yeah, with rank reputation is that much more important...a Galliard wouldn't be the greatist to upset. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I told you, Ruarc, I can't do this part...I ain't patient enough. Get all antsy an' shit. Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I gotta' go scare 'em up and send 'em this way. Ruarc Brónach: Hmm alright. *He's not trusting Tarence just yet. Moving to a point where he can see the bike, though he at least gets the bag and flash light ready. not quiet ready to do the call he's told he must do. * Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): * It's two in the morning. The bike is a long way away, through the woods. Good luck seeing it.* Ruarc Brónach: (Didn't know they went that far heh ) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): Tell you what, you got a cell phone? Ruarc Brónach: No, why? *Watching him a moment. *How far do you think you gotta go? Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): If we want to get a good score I need to go back in a ways. Figured if you had a phone I could call you if anything was holding me up. It's a'ight, though.*He starts looking around for a long branch at the edge of the clearing* Gotta' get something to scare 'em up with. It may take some time, as I gotta' get in the tree and scare 'em your way, but they usually lite just a few trees down at that point, so be patient, cool? You're my man, here, don't let me down, yeah?*As Tarence grabs his junk with one hand, and makes a gun with his fingers in the other* Right? Ruarc Brónach: *Oh no, he's grabbing himself again. He just nods, watching him a moment.* Just don't be fucking with me...*Flat tone, not happy about being left out again. * Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): I told you, man, how can I? You got my keys, and I got your location. I'll see you in a bit...*As Tarence turns, and begins making his way back* Gonna' be some /good/ eatin' tonight... Ruarc Brónach: *He watces Tarence leave glances around and really starts thinking the gnawers around these parts are all insane. Gets ready as told, though he chosses not to do the call just yet. * Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Well, about four in the morning, actually, between the driving and the walking. The usual night sounds are going on, and damn is it pretty out. * Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Time passes--half an hour, and the night sounds remain the same--the slight breeze, small animals, but no rush of birds trying to fly into Ruarc's flashlight-illuminated snipe-haven. Then again, he's not making the call either.* Ruarc Brónach: *He grumbles lightly. Watching Luna as she starts her slip into his auspice. He looks around, watching his surourndings before clearing his throat and trys the call. * Hooty Hoo...Hooty Hoo.....Hooters, where I'd rather be. Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Something rustles in the woods as Ruarc's call issues througout the night. Perhaps simply the usual animals of the night, but there's at least more moving out there when he's calling.* Ruarc Brónach: *Glances towards the woods, with his luck it would be a pack of spirals. * Hooty Hoo....Come on you ho's. ....Hooty hoo.... *He watches the direction, tempted to call some farie light over there but decides to wait on it .* Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Ruarc's "hooty-hoo's" continue to echo through the woods for another half an hour, the sky starting to lighten in the east, but there's still no snipe. Maybe they're just not close enough yet--Tarence did say it would take a long while. Or, of course, maybe he just got fucked again. All the same, it's only been about an hour so far.* Ruarc Brónach: *The bike, yes he'll have to fuck the bike up. Lance and Monatana...Still thinking a stink bomb of some sort in the shack. Maybe somethign worse. * hooty hoo!...* The again, maybe he could offer the gnawers something to eat that might give them the runs. Maybe some cheap beer to turn their piss green* (Thats always a scary thing) Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *The woods hooty-hoo back at him, echoing his party-call, and the flashlight, with freshly-stolen batteries, continues to shine into the plastic trash-bag. Another half-hour passes, then an hour. The sky's growing lighter, but it'll still be another hour before the sun actually starts coming up.* Ruarc Brónach: *He starts to growl lightly, shifting down to lupus, carrying the items in hi mouth before running back where the bike should be. * Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *And should be is indeed the operative word. It's gone--judging by the smell, Tarence walked it along for a good distance, then started it up, probably to stop Ruarc from hearing it. Somewhere in the woods, a mockingbird sings.* Hooty-hoo! Ruarc Brónach: *If there was anything worth killing, the fianna probably would. Infact...he goes looking for rodants, birds and what ever else he can find to kill and bring back. He has plans...Probably take him most the day through force of will alone* Ruarc Brónach: (*Snerks* The Gnawers really have no clue hoe close the pushing the poor fianna. ) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((Oh man...wait 'til I tell Marty...*G*)) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((Marty'll compose a song for you. *G*)) Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Birds are a bit hard for a wolf to catch, but small rodents abound. Chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits, the occasional woodchuck.* Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): ((With background vocalists. Singin' "Hooooooty-hoooo......")) Tarence Jones ((TCFB "Oh..girl..you..make..my..whist..le..blow!")): ((And every now and then, a little, unidentifiable one...just a bit larger than your average mole...*G*)) Ruarc Brónach: (*Laughs* Poor Ruarc. The Gnawers are now on a shit list *Snerks* ) *Gets a few dead animals, though he;s sane enough to offer up a thanks in the umbra before heading back to the city.* Snipe Hunt ST (Round Two): *Between Tarence's driving and the speed of a motorcycle relative to Montana's more skilled but more sane driving annd the speed of a Mack truck, Ruarc's quite a bit further out this time, and it will probably be at least sunset, if not even later, by the time he finishes his hunting and gets back.* Ruarc Brónach: *He has all the time in the world to brood and lets his rage simmer. Before heading home * Back to Archive List | Junkyard Site
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