[ OPEN ]

[dendarii]

Who: Miles Naismith (dendarii), the Dendarii, and YOU!
When: Forward-dated to late Day 4
Where: The Boneyard
What: ICly prepping for adventures, Dendarii recruitment, and poking at trilobites for fun and/or food??

[ Somehow, despite everything, Miles has gotten quite bored very quickly. Being unable to do much with shelter or searching thus far - curse his fragile body - Miles finds himself wanting to do absolutely anything except sit still another day. He's already paced himself a visible trough in the sand next to his corner of that massive skull.

When the trilobites start showing up in greater numbers, Miles is pretty much ecstatic. Finally, he can do something that involves staying still while also getting to do something moderately dangerous. Low against the sand as he is, he finds it a worthy pastime to belly crawl after some of the solo critters. Trying to ply them with a bit of rations or coral meat - or a scrap of his suit ...

When not doing that, in the interests of making himself useful, Miles turns to planning. When anyone gets near his spot, he brightens and turns to them regardless of their interest level. (He also may or may not be continuing to try taming one of these little wiggly bastards.) He grins brightly and draws himself up to his full (if short) height. ]

For all that we've made a lovely home for ourselves here, I'm getting antsy. Wouldn't it be worthwhile to see where all these things are coming from? I personally intend taking my mercenaries to investigate, but ...

[ A coy pause.]

Well. The more the merrier. The Dendarii Mercenaries are always looking for new recruits.

Comments

[dendarii]

[ He laughs and stumbles at the same time. ]

Come on, I want to eat this thing. And find out if I'm allergic to it.

[shipmaster]

God. I hope not.

[They consider the vaguely dripping bug leg in their hand.]

You would be that contrary. I don't remember you mentioning shellfish as a problem, at least.

[dendarii]

Nor do I remember anything of the sort. But then again, I also don't remember eating shellfish.

[ It's not a terribly Barrayaran thing to eat. ]

[shipmaster]

Me either. Our downside time tended to be brief and less of fine dining and more of getting shot at.

[dendarii]

What a shame. No romantic dinners on some peaceful planet somewhere?

[ Having returned to the fire, he carefully eases the shell into it to cook the remaining innards. ]

[shipmaster]

Not for a lack of offering.

[Bel hands over theirs too.]

[dendarii]

All the more shame on me, then. I should have jumped at the opportunity.

[ Miles uses some of the metal fragments to carefully prod the shells into position. A reasonably tasty smell starts up from it... ]

[shipmaster]

I prefer to think you were just worried about being spoiled entirely for anyone else.


[The civilized mind may abhor meat that came from death, but the stomach had no such compunction. It rumbles in appreciation.]

Ah. This might be passable after all.

[dendarii]

Hmmm ...

[ He grins a bit at that and reaches to try a small fragment of it himself. ]

... That's not bad.

[shipmaster]

... I'll have to be a smarter shot with the next one.

Maybe see if I can get my knife a bit more aerodynamic.

[dendarii]

[ Miles considers that ... ]

It would work as well, though you may have trouble with the shell. What we really need is a decent slingshot.

[shipmaster]

[There's a pause and a frown as their nearest concept of a slingshot is a fuel saving maneuver around a star...]

Oh?

[unthreatening]

[ Taura manages to interrupt before Miles can explain, coming lumbering over a nearby sand hill with a surprising amount of grace. She's fully adapted to the terrain by now and her early struggling in the sand is history.

She looks faintly, determinedly excited as she rounds on them, an excitement that fades as she gets closer. ]

Oh... you beat me to it. [ She should've known, honestly. ] I was coming back to report that they aren't too bad. [ Though she hadn't cooked hers, something Taura isn't quite ready to admit if she doesn't have to. ]

[shipmaster]

Taura! [Bel brightens all the same, waving her to take a seat by the fire.]

As I understand, facing the Admiral's cooking is certainly hazard duty... come help me negotiate combat pay.

[dendarii]

[ Miles makes a face at the both of them. And offers a half shell to each of them in turn. ]

Excuse you. I've done a perfectly good job with this. Taura will approve, I'm sure.

[unthreatening]

[ Taura lowers herself to the ground and accepts the shell, internally relieved at how much more palatable it looks when cooked. ]

Unless you're hiding some spices somewhere, I don't see what else could be done with it, [ she says sensibly, and then gives up trying to restrain herself and slurps the rubbery flesh right out of the cracked shell. It's nutrient dense if nowhere near filling, and she feels the rawest edge of hunger ebb. ]

[shipmaster]

[In the mean time, Bel wrestles with eating it... frankly for only a moment. The nibble turns into a good bite.]

Okay. So. We need to find a way to kill these almost whole.

[dendarii]

Sand, maybe. But hunger may be our only sauce for a while.

[ He snags another bit for himself. ]

Hence my suggestion of a slingshot.