| Deer Season |
| Summary: | Lunair takes a ragtag bunch hunting. Things happen. |
| Date: | 28 Sep 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Anything involving Lunair x Marko's wedding. |
| Players: |
        |
| South of Ewe Aerilon, Isle of Langley, Aerilon |
|---|
| Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, where nature runs amok. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #214 |
Lunair has, with the help of those more navigationally oriented, located a reasonable spot for hunting deer. It's good shooting practice out in a field, meat makes people happy and well - it's good to folks out of the metaphorical can of whoopass known as the Cerberus. Folks likely came, courtesy of our lovable Raptor Pilots(TM). The buses land a fair distance away, so everything isn't scared off.
It's a lovely day planetside on Aerilon, in a lightly forested/long grass'd area. The waves of soft golden and green grass flutter and sway - sometimes small butterflies or dragonflies can be spotted hopping or buzzing. A flower might be interspersed, alongside the scraggly tree clumps like a neglected garden. Birds warble and chirp, there's an indignant AWWWWWK and a whump - one bird loses a marital fight and falls out of a nest. Ah, nature. Now and then, one might see the trace of a tan body briefly. Maybe? Either way, the sun shines, the sky a crystalline azure blue, only faint whisps of clouds daring blot it.
"Alright," Lunair looks over anyone assembled nearby. "I've given you orange arm bands so no one gets shot, ok?" She eyes just in case. Hunting accidents to happen. Participants are welcome to wear what they wish, but sturdy clothing and boots are encouraged - as is at least one orange item for visibility. "We'll be hunting deer with rifles, and folks will be allowed to keep their kills if they wish- though, donations are always appreciated. If you manage to bag a deer, there will be a randomly drawn prize - a decent flask of Canceron rum. Got it? We'll go till Sundown."
Samuel heard the word 'hunting', and as always, that word's got some kind of magnetic attraction for him. After all, it's one of the things that reminds him most about home. At the moment he wears some clothing that looks like it's made for something like this, although it's a bit away from the latest fashions when it comes to hunting. Who knows why he brought those clothes with him on a Battlestar at all. Must be the 'reminds him about home' thing. He nods at Lunair's words, and checks the rifle a bit quickly, then looks to the others present at the moment.
Cora seems pleased to get back on the surface and with a rifle for a change, too. Dressed in a hybrid outfit consisting of marine black battle dress pants and a navy off-duty tanktop and, today, an orange armband. Aviator sunglasses shade her eyes, and a cigarette dangles from one corner of her lips as she checks her sidearm and her rifle and nods to Lunair. "Sounds good," she nods to the lieutenant, glancing around at the others.
Lysander stops staring off into the distance of Aerilon long enough to bring his attention back towards Lunair and make the Lieutenant a focal point. He adjusts the hold he has on his rifle and shoulders it. Boots in the dirt, that's so appreciated; though, this vague sense of euphoria is making him a touch child-like. He grins. "Can do, sir," is said in reply before he looks to the others with a sidelong glance. He leans forward and then takes a step in the general direction of the lightly wooded area where the grass meets trees to the west. "Anyone comin' with?" He calls it over his shoulder and then raises a hand to his orange armband, tacky and potentially life-saving.
Any chance to get out of the tin can known as the Cerberus and use a weapon and Rian fully on board. Not really cool with the hunting deer other then toasters she steps along a few feet behind the sergeant, boots heavy and kicking up dust. In her off duty greens and tanks she strolls along, her pale skin looking almost iridescent in the natural light. The orange tape is around both her wrists and, if one looks, around her ankles as well. No one's getting her with friendly fire, what a way to go after everything that has happened. As Lunair speaks she looks to her, moving closer to the smaller marine and checking her riffle.
Mercifully, folks are also being offered wireless coms and/or a flare just in case of random predator, cross-eyed shooters or disgruntled Cylon in a hat by a helpful Corpsman Lunair has nudged along. He's likely taking off a shift in exchange or Lunair has strange and terrible powers. Who knows? It's all optional though, but the choice is there. Lunair also adds, "If you do get hurt, please call out and myself and the Corpsman will come for you." She's no fool. She does seem firm on safety practices and helps check over a rifle or two. "Beyond that, hunt as you wish," She nods. She's not about to get in the way of experienced hunters grouping up or going alone. She smiles at Cora, nodding. "If you've any questions, it's good to ask before you go." There's still time to finish any last moment preparations. There's a smile at Rian as rifles are checked over. "Thank you," She nods.
Cora eyes the area Lysander indicates, blowing smoke downwind as she surveys the terrain options. "I'll head that way," she says after a moment, shooting Lunair a smile. "Indeed," she agrees, nodding at the corpsman as well. "I think I'm all set," she offers, doing another, compulsive sort of weapons and ammunition check, and then heading through the grass towards that thin treeline.
Samuel moves to the area not far from the others, smiling slightly. "Let's see what I learned from you, father…" he mutters, probably loud enough for people to overhear. Making sure that armband is secure as well.
Lysander pauses from walking off and turns in place in order to reach out and accept the rest of his equipment out of hindsight, but it does give him the moment to check on the others give them a quick once over. He smiles, confidently so, and then tucks his flare into a side pocket near to his sidearm. Then, off he goes in his already-chosen direction with rifle in tow. About halfway through he's giving a low whistle out of appreciation to the place: "More beautiful than a dream can show."
Cora heads into the brush as well, picking a parallel not far from Lysander and Argento but not precisely with them, either. Talking-distance, at least. She heads that way, head turning this way and that alertly.
Making his way onwards not far from Argento and Lysander, but on the opposite side of them than the one Cora's on, Samuel looks around carefully now. Making sure not to make loud noises to scare the animals away at the moment.
It's a good day to hunt at least. Good weather and lots of planty goodness for hungry deer to go after. A few folks shuffle here and there, crouching, offering little prayers and what have you. Seems peaceful enough for now aside from the humans now tromping through. Some seem to nearly vanish, aside from the flashes of orange while the odd city slicker blunders along. Whoops, did that Caprican chap just step on a stick? He did. And the man hops a little.
For Decumius, this is a cinch. The deer here are confident, no longer worrying about humans that don't come. They have reign here, aside from the odd predator. There's definitely the start of a trail of decent sized hooves and nibbled plants. Fairly easy to follow if one doesn't mind that odd blunderer near by. It gets easier as they spread apart and things get quieter There's a trace of hoof prints, sometimes a nibbled plant and - definitely recent - a bit of fur caught on a brushy bush, the obnoxious sort with short, sharp ends.
For Argento and Lysander, you think you've found the start of some tracks. Does that plant look eaten? It kinda does! It's not a sure thing, but it seems wise to go with what one has, right? Some grass seems a little stepped on and - to top it all off, ew! Deer poo. Don't step in it! But it's a decent start.
Sam sees a lot of prints too, fairly fresh from the looks of them. You definitely get the feeling this is a good one to follow, as there's torn, stepped on and slightly ripped foliage in its wake. And alas, poor Cora - the nearby humans are a bit distracting what with the tromping. Hey, is that a foot print? Hmm, no wait - that's a persons. Shoot, it's hard to get a start.
Lysander slows down while inclining his head to the side, making sure that his pace soon matches that of Tony's. His voice is kept low but casual. "I can give you the basics, like… don't point that thing at anythin' unless you intend to kill it, try to keep me and everyone else in general sight." He holds out his hands to gesture aimlessly in front of him while looking forward and around. After all of his talking, and since he's used to hunting people, he adds with a small grunt: "Should've gone with Samuel, he's the hunter." It's a fairly small admittance and he wryly smiles before coming to a pausing stop. He's spotted something. The Sergeant bends at the knees and begins pointing out the tracks. Some are more obvious than others, but the general direction is easy to follow.
Cora starts to follow something, branching off slightly… only to realize she's following nothing. Rather than grumble, she looks around, and then discreetly turns her path back towards Lysander and Argento, paralleling their course once again. It's sort of cheating, sure, but who's to stop her?
Following those prints, Samuel ducks down a bit, moving rather carefully after those prints now. Wherever they may lead him, if there's a deer there, he'll follow it for now, weapon ready.
Argento listens attentively to Lysander's advice, taking note of the tracks, and keeping his rifle pointed to the ground. "I see the tracks," he says quietly, and continues following behind his point man. "Thanks. I'll try not to slow you down or anything. I'll go off on my own once I get the hang of this."
It's a bad day to be a deer. At least, if one of the dorky city slickers isn't fighting over TOTALLY seeing that deer poo first and he is going THAT way or tromping around. It is a strange thing, this. Once long ago, people lived and died by this art. Scenting a breeze, following a trail, noticing plants, taking note of fur and visual cues. Once this was passed on and passed sideways so that even if one failed, another succeeded. Of course, once this was done with spears, another time with arrows and finally the odds tilted in humanity's favor a little with the advent of a good firearm. Alas, deer are still cunning, resilient and flighty. They daily know the worry of predators. Might that rustle be a foe? Might that plant be bait? Primal existence, passionate and fleeting.
As for you lot, you seem to be faring better than a pair getting stuck in bushes and flailing for the Corpsman. But that's far away, long behind, humanity lost in their concrete jungles and fishbowls. Argento and Lysander feel it, see it the most sharp now. Yes, they are close. Even visible now. Near Argento and Lysander are two females, nibbling, one watching while the other nibbles - taking turns. They seem to be busy with their food for now. Cora's cunning pays off. A trail is visible now, and there's rustling up ahead. A young buck, his antlers still budding out and seeming to hop here and there, trying something. He's distracted.
As for Samuel, there's a rather large Stag now. A trophy even. His antlers are majestic, dark and sharp. His pelt tawny and glossy. He's a healthy, strong one.
And trailing behind that stag is a young doe, perhaps taking advantage of the presence of a stag to nibble in relative safety. Though, deer aren't really entirely herd creatures - often forming small clusters of convenience and protection. It's tough being delicious.
It must be tough being delicious, yes. Cora spares a moment to watch the deer, possibly even admiring the creature. It's sort of cute in a gawky adolescent way, with its new little horns and its hopping. Okay, she even spares more than a moment, standing and watching for a bit, and that might even be a grimace before she raises her rifle and sights carefully down it. She had to get the cute one.
Stopping before those deer in front of him can take notice of him, Samuel studies the stag for a few moments, before he takes careful aim for the neck of the creature, where it hopefully won't ruin the antlers or the pelt too much. Letting the Doe be for now.
Argento quietly crouches into position to aim at one of the nearby deer. He glances over at Lysander and calls his target with a nod. His hands are steady as he closes his right eye and follows the deer's movements through the scope with his left eye. The barrel of his rifle slowly follows his target.
Lysander brings himself further into the brush and undergrowth of the wilderness and unlatches the hunting rifle from his side. He takes to a low, stooped walk before coming to a pausing step and reaches forward to sweep back the thin, annoying twigs of a bush. "Here we go," is murmured under his breath as he takes to a knee. He braces the rifle's stock near to his shoulder and holds the barrel aloft. A moment later has him lifting it slowly and taking aim. Oh, how he enjoys being patient.
Argento fires and quickly re-aims. "Damn it," he whispers, and tries to get a second shot off before he loses his target completely.
It really is a bad day to be Bambi. The poor guy never saw it coming. One moment - then a heartbeat and all goes red, then black. He flails for a second and - whumph! But it also is a far kinder mercy than some predators would grant. It is swift, his pelt clean and plenty of good meat to lug back. He's about 125 pounds - a spring buck, but that's if she lugs it back whole and there's the noises of some one stomping. "Hey I found - oh," The man's face falls. "Hey you need help?" He offers to Cora. He's a random Deckhand, sturdy and stout. As for the Stag, he jerks his head, about to rear up. The doe hunkers and moves away. She might make it. Lysander and Argento's quarry are startled and panic. They've never heard this noise - they are wild things, untouched. Their dark eyes are wide. There's still time for those who have missed.
Samuel grimaces a bit as he's missed the target, but aims once more, taking a few moments to aim a bit more carefully now. Otherwise keeping silent.
Cora doesn't quite wince when the little buck goes down, but she lowers her rifle and her lips twist. After a moment, she begins heading towards the fallen animal, grip on her rifle shifting warily at that crashing through the brush. When the deckhand reveals himself, she relaxes and nods at him. "Yes, thank you," she replies, leaving him to deal with most of the messy parts. She heads back towards the waiting Raptors along with DeadBambi and the deckie, to supervise or something like that before returning to the hunt.
Lysander reflexively tightens at the gunfire and then holds his ground, steadying himself as his rifle and keen gaze track the movements of his deer. He places his forefinger upon the trigger and snaps off a shot, surely aimed to clip it but he has to reposition himself and adjust for a follow-through.
And again, at least one deer is injured. Lysander's target makes a pained cry, as its leg buckles a little. She's definitely not quite gonna make it. Her partner starts to move off without her. It's cruel, in a way. Abandoning another that one might live - but it's more common than many people or animals would care to admit. As for Sam's Stag and doe, she's moving off. But the stag? Mr. Stag does not look amused. Actually, Sam seems to have some sort of aura to him. Stag can take him. And now the animal's turning towards him - pointy ends first. It's on sister. He'd z-snap if he had thumbs.
Argento is about to fire a second shot at his target when he sees the stag getting aggressive. Argento knows a stag z-snap when he sees one. He quickly swivels his rifle to aim at the stag. This is going to be a tough shot, he knows, but he's going to do what he can to help.
"Okay… Bring it on," Samuel offers as he sees the stag heading for him. Adjusting his aim to go for the head of that charging animal now. If the animal doesn't go down, he'll have another addition to his fine list of Animals That Have Attacked Him, it would seem.
It's a startling change of events. The stag bellows, rearing his head challengingly. Those antlers are /pointy/. The doe cowers into the brush, forgotten. Samuel is in the stag's sights. Meanwhile, Lysander's deer is well and truly crippled. Her partner is in a panic. Yes, deer are tasty. And while they are flighty - they tend to fly the wrong way as often as the right in a mad panic. Panic grants speed and reflex, but it dulls wisdom, reason and creates error. Luck does the rest. Bambi is off being cleaned, dressed and hauled into the Raptor as water and shade awaits those who misjudged their ability, gave up or got something.
Argento also aims for the stag's head. He should've fired when the stag was standing still, and now the stag is charging. Now or never, he thinks, adjusting his aim for the speed of the stag's charge. He pulls the trigger.
Lysander stands upright as Argento changes targets. The first deer is down and so he goes for the second, moving forward and past the line of bushes in order to chance a better target. His breathing slows and he focuses in on the animal.
It's funny how much changes in a blink. The ancient world seems slow to those living with technology like FTL drives. But the truth of it is, ancient can move just as quickly - in mere heartbeats. The stag manages a good charge in on Samuel, but he pays dearly for it, crumpling sideways off Sam. It's a mercy. There's plenty of pelt, meat and antlers for a trophy though. The doe bolts for it though, unless Argento cares to try his luck. And Lysander is making a bunch of targets for himself. The deer's partner is now herself joining the legless legion. A yelp sort of noise and she too buckles though not as badly. So far, the balance is in favor of the humans. And /fortunately/, there's a roving Corpsman or two a short drag away or so.
What would people do when charged by a stag? Not many would stand up further to get a good shot off. Yet that's what Samuel does, firing off the shot. The only trouble is that the animal doesn't stop, and knocks him down with the antlers hitting the Corporal's abdomen area. "Didn't work…" Samuel mutters, expression a very pained one for the moment.
Argento manages to hit the stag square in the eye, but not before poor Sam gets antlered in the stomach. Argento slings his rifle on his back and rushes over to where Samuel has fallen. He hurriedly pulls out a first aid kit, pulling out an entire roll of gauze bandages. "Hang in there, man," he says, and attempts to treat the wound. "Can I get some help getting him back to the raptor?" he calls out to a nearby corpsman.
Lysander begins to meander in the direction of the first deer he has downed this afternoon but his attention is kept on the second one for the time being. The rifle is held aloft and he keeps to aiming towards it. Just in case, is what he has murmured, but there's also a steady please stay down as well.
The doe has had it. She bolts, granted more sense than bravery and bravado. Alas, Sam's wound seems to be fairly uncooperative. Fortunately, Lunair had the sense to keep a couple of Corpsman roving about. "Yeah, I got him," The lanky fellow grunts. "Grab his arms?" He'll help carry Sam gently as possible so there's no further injuries. The Stag's lost the battle altogether and will likely be helpfully carried and brought to be prepared as instructed or as Sam sees fit if he's awake. The deer Lysander's aiming at - well, the more gravely injured one might stagger but she's practically a gimme and the second is slowed. All but done in for.
"I'm… fine…" Samuel mutters, although it doesn't look like it. "Stag?" Looking around for a few moments, without really noticing anything. "Greg? You're alive…?" Sounds like he's seeing things now…
Argento is useless with his first aid kit, and curses as he botches the bandaging job. "Thanks," says Argento to the corpsman, and grabs Sam by the arms as the other guy grabs his legs. He looks over at the lanky corpsman, and is pretty sure that his name isn't Greg. "No, Sam. It's Tony. We got the stag. It'll make a nice steak when we get back to Cerberus. Stay with me now."
Lysander hesitates for a second and then lowers his rifle, and down comes his shoulders and tightened posture as well. One deer is looked to and then the other before he shoulders his rifle and slowly steps in the direction of them. His hunting knife is drawn and soon his weight is applied to the length of them, bracing the first deer and completing a patient, focused mercy kill, and then to the latter as well. It's far better than shooting them further. He stands up after cleaning the blade, only to pull out his wireless com: "So what was all that yelling for?" He is amused.
The two deer are fairly easy to dispatch once deprived of their advantage - speed. Lysander seems to come out ahead in terms of sheer numbers of deer. The stag is a nice haul too. Likely, the pelt and whatever antler is pristine will be kept for Sam and Argento as well. It'll be hauled back to the Raptors. There's a pause over wireless, "We think a Corporal got gored by a Stag." A female voice pipes up, "He DID." Some chatter that degenerates into white noise, and finally - Lunair's voice. "It's nearing sun down anyway. They are bringing Corporal Blaine back for treatment. I am saddened that there was an injury, but I suspect it is a reminder that even an animal foe can do a number. Nevertheless, I owe at least two of you something and it will be handled once all are back safely. Please return to the raptors now." Her voice is calm, stately and only /slightly/ tinged with an upper class Canceron accent.
As well, the Corpsman thanks Argento for his help and grins a little. "You guys got the fiesty one huh?"
"What do you mean, you can't tell me?" Samuel's muttering continues. "I thought we were friends, Greg. Are you alive or dead? Am I… alive or…" It trails off as the man's head starts moving from side to side now.
Argento gets Sam on a stretcher and shakes his arms loose. Two guys carrying one is more exhausting than he thought. He chuckles dryly to the corpsman. "No kidding. I didn't think those things fought back. Wasn't what I was expecting on my first hunting trip." He shakes his head as Sam mumbles nonsense. "We need to get him to sick bay fast. He's bleeding bad."
The amusement drags itself out of Lysander's tone of voice and he kneels down in place, listening to the others over the radio. He radios back in the affirmative and then gets in some assistance with the pair of deer. Once he's back to the Raptors though the Sergeant is something of grins and thumbs ups, partially in thanks to having Corpsmen around.
Suddenly trying to sit up, Samuel's words become a bit clearer. "Mum…? Why is everything changing? Where am I?" Sounding a bit frightened now…
The Corpsmen have swarmed poor Sam and he's helpfully tucked into a Raptor for return to Doctors. They got a fair haul and Lunair herself has put names into a jar. Sam might well get something small as a consolation prize. For now, she will quietly offer over wireless, "I'll draw the name over in the Raptor. Our Corporal needs to get back, and I suspect that given the counts coming back to me, Sergeant Lysander has earned himself something as well. I do not forget my debts and promises," She admits. And so she will draw while on the raptor. "Hmm. Lucky number 5. It seems a Sergeant and a Weaponsman may report to me at the Security Hub as they're our winners for this eve. Thank you all for coming out." Meat will be tended to as per it's owner's wishes. The journey back home is smooth, a medic sshing Sam. "Hey, man, you got stabbed good by a deer or something. You'll be cool," He promises. "Getting you to a Doc."