shooting stars only

Day 7, BKA pickup

The rocky beach is formed from blocks of igneous rock of varying sizes and shapes. There is a distinct lack of sand along the shore; instead the ground is covered in pebbles and rocks dotted by clumps of seaweed. Some of the larger rock formations hold small tide pools that become distinct whenever the tide goes out. Some of the rocks get extremely slippery when wet, making navigating the beach a difficult task.
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shooting stars only

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Post by backslash »

((Salem Fox continued from The Beginning and the End, or 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door'))

Salem's second prize was also not a sniper rifle. He glanced around the beach until he spied one of the trail cams dotting the area, and he held eye contact with it for a solid thirty seconds with his best Jim Halpert face.

Then he turned his attention to the pot pie and fell on it like a starving dog, because hey, he'd gotten his leg carved up for that and then had to walk all the way back down to the stupid beach to get it. The center of the pie was still warm enough, and Salem did pause for a few seconds to savor it; chicken and vegetables drenched in gravy was a combination you couldn't go wrong with. The cookie was fine. He scarfed that down too and washed it down with a few chugs of the cola.

He couldn't linger here like he had before. The snow was really starting to come down now, and as much as Salem could kind of appreciate the irony of leaving his food prize out where he'd fruitlessly scrounged in the tide pools for anything other than kelp, he wasn't looking to freeze. Or slip and bust his ass like Medea over there.

Anyway. The not-sniper rifle. It was apparently a Knight Mountaineer, which wasn’t a name that Salem recognized the way he did Smith & Wesson, and it loaded from the front like an old-timey musket. It was pretty aesthetic, with a silvery stock that matched the barrel; he had to give them points for the looks, but still.

Salem eyed the camera again and held up one of the rifle rounds, wiggling it next to his head. “Somebody out there really wants to watch me load bullets one by one, huh? You like that? ‘Putting Bullets In My Gun By Hand One At A Time ASMR’? I’ll do a whole routine - that’s a threat.”

Not here and now, though. He’d had enough of wolfing down his food out in the cold. It just didn’t hit the same the second time, you know? Second week of vacation, the shine was wearing off.

Salem tucked the rifle under his arm and gathered up the rest of his belongings. No leftovers to cart around this time, but he still had some chips left, and the pie.

Julia was still out there, somewhere.

He had better go find her.

((Salem Fox continued in The World Ended on a Snowy Day))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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