Post by reese on Aug 7, 2009 22:05:41 GMT -5
Recap time! With peanut butter? And rum? Those would have to wait, including the recap, now that he thought about it. Recaps were for people who planned, but he still had no way of getting off this blasted island. What could he do besides plan? Why were questions popping in his head, thus leading to him becoming unfocused, whilst at a dangerous height above an equally dangerous city? At least he was flying high enough to be mistaken for a normal bird. Now all he hoped was that he could stay up there until he saw the opportunity to leave before someone else saw the opportunity to shoot him. If someone saw him, he would probably panic.
But nay! Tis not the time for panic! He just needed connections. He needed information. He needed, RUM! Of course he needed rum. But he was in an alcohol deprived desert, metaphorically speaking. And it made Reese so sad he considered dropping to the hard ground. At least SOME people liked him in this feminine hole. It was a start, but you don't have a masculine revolution overnight. For that you need connections, and supporters. He had nothing except a shoot on sight warrant. And his belongings. But no time for those. Those were useless without rum.
Meanwhile:
Tricia had been walking from the prison doing her thing at home. Reese didn't know what she was doing at the time, so he couldn't say it in THIS story. Anyways, she was changing when (Damn, so he did know! I knew it! Wait, what?) something ker-thwunked (landed un-gracefully) onto her roof. "Oomf~" Then, a sparrow-like head looked in upside down from the window. It was a good thing Reese was part sparrow, because dipping your head into a woman changing would ignite a blush beyond blushes, though his feathers covered it. "Tricia! Hi! Sorry about the peeping tomishness. Are you free?"
But nay! Tis not the time for panic! He just needed connections. He needed information. He needed, RUM! Of course he needed rum. But he was in an alcohol deprived desert, metaphorically speaking. And it made Reese so sad he considered dropping to the hard ground. At least SOME people liked him in this feminine hole. It was a start, but you don't have a masculine revolution overnight. For that you need connections, and supporters. He had nothing except a shoot on sight warrant. And his belongings. But no time for those. Those were useless without rum.
Meanwhile:
Tricia had been walking from the prison doing her thing at home. Reese didn't know what she was doing at the time, so he couldn't say it in THIS story. Anyways, she was changing when (Damn, so he did know! I knew it! Wait, what?) something ker-thwunked (landed un-gracefully) onto her roof. "Oomf~" Then, a sparrow-like head looked in upside down from the window. It was a good thing Reese was part sparrow, because dipping your head into a woman changing would ignite a blush beyond blushes, though his feathers covered it. "Tricia! Hi! Sorry about the peeping tomishness. Are you free?"