[m] Big Bar Stewards

Shammah

POSTED: Tue May 15, 2018 11:27 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
The Magnificent

"Will you shut the fuck up? Christ..." John glared at the mule that wouldn't shut the hell up braying for like five goddamn seconds. The throbbing between his eyes was getting worse by the minute, shit, he needed a smoke. This just.. was not his day in the slightest. No because why should Andrew fucking bother to let his brother know that.. oh the pack had moved so maybe we should let family know. That fucking crotch sniffer.

No but he had to trek twice now across the goddamed mountains searching for some clan that was probably dust and ash by now. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving it back unceremoniously and then jamming his hands into the pockets on his jacket. Mule was chewing at the ground again and... being a mule. Sam and Sam were likewise. Well shit, guess he was stuck here for a while. So he did what he did best, he sat down and took a nap. Sweet.

Later he was moving again, and finally his dumb-ass animals had decided they should follow the idiot that fed them and kept them safe. He was full of regret for not leaving them with Ronnie.

Following a smoke trail that led to one of the biggest motherfuckers he'd ever seen in his life. Damn, that was a mean-ass looking wolf. He approached with some kind of caution, because he wasn't a complete dip-shit.

"Ay man, what you doing there?" He kind of spoke a bit loudly, but damn he didn't really want to get too close to that big bastard. Look at those scars, shit.

John had his own scars, one on his ass cheek where the fucking goose had bit him, that bastard had been good cooked over a fire. The whip marks on his back were new and rawer.

Dated 11th May | [wc — --] template by hilli
Last edited by Johnathan Winthrop on Wed Jul 11, 2018 11:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Thu May 17, 2018 12:34 pm

Bent over himself, the great soldier was lurched over a campfire, carefully placed between a tripod that stood precariously over his head in this position. The fire didn't want to start with the sand that had blown into his set-up from a stray ocean gust, and heaving breaths from his barrel-chest exhaled to rid the wood of the fine grandules. It took a bit of doing, and a few moment of plucking a few dashes and throwing them back to the beach before the wood was ready to burn. Braced on his knee, he lifted himself after the fire finally took with the help from a few flint strikes. Small flames lapped up the tinder that surrounded the gaps in the wood as the beast roped the top of the tripod tightly, finally bracing the arm of a pot sturdily on the rope. Stepping back from it all, the pot hung above the flame, wavering and finally settling in it's place. Decidedly, it was safe to keep working.

Turning himself to the water's edge, he dipped a smaller container into the brackish waves that lapped at the shore. The one free billowing black fabric on his legs clung to him as he stepped out of the water, dripping and clumping the sand beneath him as he made way back to the pot and filling it. It took a couple of trips, but when it was finally at the right height, it was time to work the water itself.

Hours passed as the smoke billowed into the skies. The soldier wasn't quite ready to submit this work to Sapient yet, as he had to perfect it still, but he was sure that this would work well for saving meats through the next winter. Not only that, but to his left, he had a stack of pages weighted with a stone of his written process as he worked. The set-up, the filter process and how long the boiling took. With how much water he used, it seemed that the process was finally gaining steam. Picking himself up from the sand, he moved over to the fires with his pants a little stiff from the salty waves, but otherwise dry. Before too much could be done to the happily bubbling pot, a body slipped from the brush not far from him.

A 'Yote. His mind curled at the thought, but before he could do anything to bring the man back, his harem seemed to follow him. A mule and two goats. Now, this man certainly wasn't in the position of losing all he had to take what was Shaamah's and by the great sense of apprehension and the length at which he gave the wolf plenty of room, the soldier figured it to be a coincidence. Though, his nature whispered that it might be something more," Boiling water," The strength of the warrior's words traveled well over the fire and the waves, a little louder than he might speak as a respect to others. Shaamah had never been fond of coyotes, nor jackals, thanks to Zetsubou's awful mother," What brings you this way?" The soldier spoke stiffly, no longer bent over the pot, but standing at his entire height against the small coyote that had slithered into his space.

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POSTED: Mon Jun 25, 2018 7:50 pm

Johnathan Winthrop

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The wolf straightened and John had to look up and up and up to see his face, craning his neck to catch all the details. Well shit, this would be a story to tell Andrew, if he ever found that cock-sucking motherfucker. He remembered something his Ma had said about predators scenting fear, kind of a silly piece of advice but anyway he rubbed the back of his neck and grinned,

"Ahh." He said, nodding sagely as though that explained all the mysteries of the world to him. If the wolf turned hostile, he could always just high-tail it the fuck outta dodge. He didn't have shit against defending himself but the hell he was going up against this mutant bastard.

"Just looking around and about for my brother." This guys looked like he could do with a good dose of mellowing out, he was super uptight from the set of his shoulders and his heavy scowling eyebrows.

"Watchu boilin' water for?" He wasn't exactly aware of why one would want to boil water.

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POSTED: Sat Jun 30, 2018 2:30 am

Beady eyes trailed up to Shaamah's face, an act that certainly didn't remove the distaste for his present company. The 'Yote even went as far as to seem like some divine knowledge was given to him, despite Shaamah's purposeful proclivity to be exceptionally vague when unimpressed by those that pestered him. Yet, Shaamah's disdain had gone unnoticed, or at least unspoken, and the 'yote carried on to offer why he dropped by. Shaamah's broad head turned from the tawny, slighter male and scanned the beach until his neck could no longer keep up with his cold gaze. Looking around an about for his brother? He contested the thought that he looked anything like a 'yote's brother, and there was no one else present. It was clear that there was no one else around, which had made his day more pleasant before his current company had arrived.

Returning sight to the emerald-eyed 'yote, another parting of the lesser canine's maw had broken the peace of the rolling waves. Shaamah breathed deeply, his patience being tested over nothing at all. Whatever the case, it wasn't as if the wolf could leave his current set-up simply because he was annoyed. He had to make sure that the job was done, and with more attention now that someone was beside him, bugging him with questions.

“Boiling the water from the sea extracts the salt within it,” The soldier opted for a more informing approach this time. Of course, he wasn't about to divulge that the theory had yet to be tried before this and it was only words in a book before he'd created his set-up. He also wasn't going to tell him that he had greater ideas with the salt than simply this experiment,” Why do you seek your brother?” Shaamah opted to side-track the conversation into something that was more informative for him. If there was a soul nearby that Shaamah needed to be perceptive of, now was the time to gather the information on him.


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POSTED: Wed Jul 11, 2018 11:42 pm

Johnathan Winthrop

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John's smart, cautious eyes took over the still thing that the beast had built, memorizing parts as its use was explained to him. Salt was worth its weight in uncounted things. The wily coyote was well aware of shit that might help him out and he was not above stealing the knowledge someone else held. In some ways he was a good guy, in others he was an complete unrepentant bastard. Let's say, he was a real mama's boy, in more ways than one.

John shrugged, "My brother lives around here some wheres, or so he says by his letters. I can't seem to find the damn place thought." The wolf seemed thoroughly uninterested in his whereabouts and so John took the opportunity to observe him closely and stepped back a few steps as the giant walked back towards the water without a word.

Let's chill this motherfucker alll the way down. John's hands were like a flash into his pockets and pulling out that good leaf, chucking it into the wolf's fire and it burned like grass, oh yeah that good grass. The smoke billowed up and the wave hit him and he took a deep breath, no sense wasting it.

Mother Nature, that sweet and salty bitch did him a solid and the wind blustered up, blowing out towards the big wolf and enveloping him in a cloud of the greatest stuff.

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Sticks and Stones