With luck there will be no green eggs or ham

[βolt.]

Evan Fenley
Level Six
Master Scavenger

"Clean this. Clean that. Maybe you should think about cleaning your damn face for once." Those were the mumbled words of Evan as he turned his back and returned to collecting up some used dishes. In the 'cooking area' of where most of the survivors liked to eat Evan was toiling away, cooking and cleaning for all the hungry fighters. Also in the cooking area was a man much older than Evan- probably in his late fifties. He was apparently a friend of Major's, though he was certainly no friend of Evan's. He didn't know much about him, but one thing was for sure, the bastard was a bloody slave driver! Yeah the older guy was going about his own work and serving people their food, but he refused to allow Evan any breathing time. In fact, he demanded that the Scavenger cook half the food that was required- as he was cooking the other- and clean the dishes and counter in between. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he was part of the one hundred percent at the Fort that hated Evan. Yeah that was probably it.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! ... Ya big glut." Of course that second part was whispered under his breath, as he was sure the big guy eyeing him and barking orders that reminded him of the Major wouldn't appreciate it. You see, the man Major asked to keep Evan working was rather large around the middle. He wore an old, gray t-shirt and a cap to keep any hair from getting into his cooking. While he looked somewhat like a big, dirty fellow with the grease stains on his top and cooking oil on his face, he was actually very careful to make sure nothing got into the food he was making for the other islanders. In fact, he made a point of washing his hands at least every forty-five minutes when behind the counter. Anything he got on himself was because he was cooking, and nothing more. With a grunt the larger man let that last mumble slide, and went about frying up some more bacon. The two refused to get very close to one another, and only crossed paths when one needed to get something from the other side of the 'kitchen.'

Evan himself was wearing a white t-shirt underneath the ruined one from his most recent mission. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, as the left one had been pretty much shredded, and the shirt itself was left open to expose his t-shirt, seeing as the chest area had taken some damage too. At least this way his undamaged suits would be safe back in his tent. On his head he- too- was wearing a cap. It was simple, worn, and green, so it was pretty uninteresting. Evan, of course, didn't bother to put gel in his hair that morning, so it was just neatly combed down- though there was no doubt that once the baseball hat came off it would be sticking out some. Damn hats. With an annoyed expression and a defeated sigh Evan went about washing yet more dishes as quickly as possible so that he could get back to cooking before the big guy started nitpicking at him again. The only slightly warmed water ran over the dishes and his hands, though his dark eyes did not. Instead they glared out past the counter and out to where everyone was eating. How he wanted to be out there with them, doing nothing and stuffing his own face- which reminded him, "Hey, when do we get to eat anything?" The question was directed at the man frying bacon, though he didn't bother to turn and look at him.

"Not until everyone else on the island has had their breakfast." He replied simply, not caring that the younger man was hungry and tired. It was his punishment, after all, and it wasn't easy to babysit a whiner like Evan anyway.

"Oh, greeeeat..." He rolled his eyes and attempted to concentrate more on the dishes, which just seemed to keep coming. At that rate he'd never be able to do anything else. The Scavenger glared daggers at the porcelain and cursed the leader of his team under his breath. The worst part of it all? He had to do the same thing for two more meals that day, and then repeat everything he had done for four more days. The very thought increased his frustration. "Damn you, Major..."

Word Count: 756
Total Money: $3,887
Thread Money: $756
Total Experience: N/A
Comments: Private. Open to Indeh. Thanks~

[Indeh]

Ross wandered in, eyes nervously passing over each person's face as he shifted his way through the crowd. As it turned out, not all that many people were friendly, but he supposed they had reason to be less than sociable. Most people, like himself, had lost some of their family and friends, if not all of them. There was a sort of miserable air about, but everyone was still trying to put a smile on their face. He was working on that bit, too, though it was somehow becoming more difficult than he would have thought. He'd assumed he'd feel better once hanging around the Fort more, but as it turned out, it simply made him feel a little more alone. He only knew three other people of the entire population, and he wasn't necissarily the type to start up random conversations with grumpy looking strangers.

As the blonde-haired boy wandered into the center of the dining area, his eyes continued to scan for a face he knew. Finally, he spotted one, the very rage-painted face of Evan, who was obviously working off his punishment in the kitchen area. Oh yeah, Evan had been that one that called him "blondie" earlier. He frowned slightly, but maintained his optimism. The fact that Sebastian and Evan both had been punished made him feel somewhat guilty, seeing as they had been there to peel him off the floor, only to get panned by Major.

"Sweet home Al'bama," he hummed softly, making his way over to the kitchen. There was something else he missed; music, radios, anything that emitted sound. The world felt disconnected, like they had all reeled back in time to where there were no phones, tvs or ipods. Oh, and there were zombies. Well, it wasn't as if he'd been exposed to all that much technology as it was, seeing as he'd spent most of his life on a farm.

Ross turned his attention back across the counter to where Evan was working alongside a few other scrappy looking men. He could just barely hear the older man's frustrated mutterings over the roar of chatter streaming through the eating area.

He paused directly by the counter, looking up at Evan sympathetically. "Can I help you with anythin'?" He asked, biting his lip slightly. "I kinda owe you anyway," he paused. "Wasn't sure 'f it was my fault y'all got in trouble or not... so," another prolonged pause followed. "Anyway, I didn't get to say thanks...for earlier and all," he offered him a slight smile, at the same time dodging out of the way of a few people walking by. He wasn't sure if he would be able to help with anything, or if the other man even wanted him around at all, but it was worth a try. Maybe he was just a little rough around the edges.

[βolt.]

Evan Fenley
Level Six
Master Scavenger

As it turned out glaring at plates when he was frustrated wasn't very satisfying. In fact, all it really did was serve to make him feel even more annoyed with no really good means to ventilate. Evan even found himself muttering things like 'stupid plates' and 'why won't this crap come off' in an attempt to release some of his pent up agitation, but in the end just found himself feeling no different toward Major and hating the dishes themselves- as if they, too, were people. However, even with all of his frustrations, he finally seemed to be getting through the things, and just as he was about to finish up with the last few one of the men behind the counter passed by and deposited another batch next to the tired and hungry Scavenger. For a couple of seconds the man stopped everything to stare at the new stack of plates in disbelief. Then, slowly, his face melted back into that pissed look, "I can't believe I'm missing that Medic's punishment for this crap." An eye twitched but there was nothing he could do, and so he added a few plates from the top of the new tower to the sink he was cleaning in. "There's just way too much..." He mumbled to himself quietly, not bothering to slow himself down to gaze at the chattering crowd again. Ugh, they were making him into a bloody slave!

"Can I help you with anythin'?"

Evan paused and looked up from the sink, to the other side of the wooden counter. "Oh, it's you, Blondie." He blinked under the bill of his cap a few times and folded his arms across his chest to listen to the rest of the younger man's words. By the look and sound of him Evan could swear he was being sympathetic. He always had trouble understanding how people could feel bad for complete strangers, believing from a young age that it was stupid, and so brushed off the other's concerned tone with ease. Stern, dark orbs scanned the southerner for a moment. To be honest he really could use the kid's help, however he had a feeling that he might get in the way. He watched as the shorter male smiled and moved from the path of a few passersby, taking a second to eye them as they went on their way before he turned his full attention back to Ross and smirked, "While you probably do owe me a little something I don't need your help. Might slow me down." He waved a hand dismissively, "Why don't you go play with some farm animals or something, okay? There's no point having you hanging around- especially if Major stops by. If he sees you helping me the old bastard might add to my workload." As always Evan was uncaring about the feelings of others, and didn't even bother to reassure Ross that it wasn't his fault that the Scavenger was punished or to accept his thanks. Well, it wasn't that he didn't accept Ross' thanks, he just didn't care that he was getting it in the first place.

Word Count: 531
Total Money: $3,887
Thread Money: $1,287
Total Experience: N/A
Comments: N/A

[Indeh]

"D'you have a nickname for everyone, or just me?" Ross said after a pause, "'Cos I do have a name, 'f you weren't aware," he added, glancing downward. He smirked slightly, raising his eyes to the other man's face. "I remembered your name n' everythin'," he paused rather dramatically. "It's Evan, ain't it?" The southerner blinked twice, scratching the back of his head and still grinning rather broadly.

"Yeah, I donno what exactly I can do for you that'd repay for you know, my life, but I can still try, can't I?" He said, casting Evan a sideways glance as he continued to avoid causing too much blockage by the food counter.

"I'm not that useless," he retorted, with a vague grin. Well, he was, but he wouldn't tell Evan that. So maybe he'd almost set the barn on fire once when he tried a cigarette, what of it?

He didn't seem to pick up on the fact that Evan might have wanted him to go, or if he did, he didn't show it, as he proceeded to go nowhere.

Ross looked mildly hurt by the statement pertaining to his farm-heritage, which slowly melted into a more offended expression, and quickly drove back to hurt. Still, the faint attempt at a smile remained on his face. "I think we both know there ain't no more farm animals 'round," he scoffed, frowning. "At least, I don' think," he muttered a little more quietly, raising an eyebrow to emphasize his perplexity. "D'you suppose the zombies ate them too, or d'ya think they're runnin' around all wild in the forest or somethin'?" He asked suddenly, looking up at Evan rather seriously.

Again he paused, before rather suddenly pushing himself up and over the counter, sliding swiftly to Evan's side in one motion. Though it was awesome, he visibly winced the second his feet touched the ground; he hadn't remembered that he was still stitched up. The blonde-haired boy frowned again, knowing that Sebastian would smack him upside if he saw him ripping apart all his hard work again. If not that, he'd get the "I'm disappointed" look.

But that flurry of concern was swiftly swept away as Evan continued, talking about Major. Sure Major had given Evan the punishment for a reason, but it wasn't as if Major had to know anything. Evan looked like he was about to claw some eyes out, and it wasn't like Ross had anything else particularly useful or interesting that he could be doing. "C'mon, Major won't see, s'not like a guy like him would wanna come anywhere near this sorta place anyway, it's too crowded," Ross explained, taking a moment to give the room a once-over with his eyes. "Let me help you with something, if Major comes in, I'll just uh, duck into this cab'net here or somethin'," he laughed airily, clearly insistent on his offer.

[βolt.]

Evan Fenley
Level Six
Master Scavenger

The other, younger man didn't seem overly bothered by the nickname Evan had bestowed upon him... yet. He voiced the fact that he remembered the older Fort resident's name as if to challenge Evan into doing the same and remembering his in return. His smirk refused to fade, even if he found it unnatural that the little southerner was in such a socializing mood. He gave a faint nod when he was labeled with the correct name, "That's right..." The friendly man was giving him a wide grin, probably just happy to talk to someone he vaguely recognized. "I didn't expect you to remember much at all." He secretly poked fun at the fact he saw the other as having a 'hillbilly brain,' though the fact a lot had gone on during the previous day's events gave legit reason for anyone in the younger's physical condition to forget a thing or two. "Your name... it starts with an 'R,' right? 'Rob' or something?" The man scratched behind his ear as he gave his guess, accidentally smearing some suds that had been attached to his gloved hands back there. "Eck..." Evan was terrible with names, and still had a lot of trouble recalling the name of his Unit's Medic.

The man's smirk grew, somewhat more smug, "Oh yeah, you can try to repay me. I don't usually go around risking my hide for complete strangers, you know." He glanced behind suspiciously to make sure the big guy wasn't staring him down for pausing his work. Finding the larger man quite occupied with a misbehaving stovetop burner he looked back to Ross, allowing both hands to rest on the counter. "I'll get back to you on that one. I'm sure we can work something out." He was half playing with the other man, so he didn't expect to be taken too seriously. Still, though, getting something nice as a reward for saving someone was always fun.

Evan couldn't help but wonder what the hell Ross was still doing there. He thought he had made himself pretty clear that he wanted him to leave when he waved like he had. Either Ross was persistent, or he was really thick. The Scavenger didn't think he preferred either of the possible reasons, though he chose to go with the thick one due to Ross' accent. Even his shot at him with the farm animals, which seemed to have affected the shorter man, didn't make him gone. Oddly, the other man retained a faint smile even when he was hurt. ... This guy was a little too friendly, in the Scavenger's opinion. Evan tapped a foot on the floor while Ross went on to wondering where all the animals had gone. With an annoyed sigh he gave his input, "How should I know? The only thing I can tell you is the Fort supposedly raises a few animals somewhere, though I haven't seen more than an escaped hen wandering around from time to time. If there is a barn area I haven't bothered with it."

Then there was a pause, and for a moment Evan thought that Ross would finally leave. However, quite the opposite took place, as the younger man lifted himself and slid to Evan's side of the counter in one smooth move. Evan hastily retracted his arms and jumped back, "Geh!", as his hands had been resting on the surface and he didn't feel much like getting them broken by some over energetic new member of the Fort. Irritably Evan steadied himself and studied Ross, who was wincing with pain. "What- are you five?" While his movement had appeared smooth and well practiced, by the looks of things he still managed to hurt himself. "Slow it down there, Evel Knievel, you might break something." He teased, amused with his allusion to the famous daredevil.

After some more complaining about Major and getting yet more cheerful words in reply the older man rubbed the back of his neck, getting yet more soapy bubbles on himself. Ross' insistent nature and his own moodiness was making him feel quite defeated. "Alright, fine." He took his dish gloves off and slapped them down carelessly on the counter by the sink, "You can do the dishes while I do some cooking then." He faltered for a second to study the southern man suspiciously, chocolate eyes dark and distrusting, "If the big guy asks..." He gestured to the overweight man, "you're being punished too. Got it?"

With an unsure expression he turned to do a bit of cooking, not far away from the new Fort recruit. There was more than one stove back there so he didn't have to share with glut-face. He put on some thinner, clear plastic gloves to cook with and retrieved a few eggs and an oiled pan. With one more look over his shoulder at the other he cracked some shells and went to frying over an already pre-heated burner. Even while he worked, though, he couldn't help but mumble one of his concerns, "You better not break anything..." Maybe if he didn't talk to Ross, then Ross wouldn't talk to him.

Word Count: 885
Total Money: $3,887
Thread Money: $2,172
Total Experience: N/A
Comments: N/A

[Indeh]

The other man seemed almost offended that after his big stunt over the counter. The southerner glanced at him, smirking. Obviously, the other wasn't a fan of having him around, but Ross was pretty sure if he hung around him enough, they'd grow on each other. He seemed to get along with the other two people he'd met so far, and he was personally determined to make nice with Evan, despite the fact that he wasn't exactly being the nicest in return.

"I'm fine," He insisted, fingers curling around the edge of the counter in order to stabilize himself. He paused, looking to his shoes for a moment. "Though, Sebastian'd be mighty pissed at me if he knew I was runnin' around again. He worries too much, that man," Ross mused, ignoring Evan's comment over his age completely.

He simply laughed at the other's teasing, not necissarily catching the full meaning behind it, but remaining untouched by it anyway. "I didn't hit my head that bad, sir. I like to remember people's names, 'cos it's'all awkward when you don't, and y'know, it's not like I've had to remember too many people's names lately or anything, so..." he trailed off, remembering the other still hadn't guessed his own name correctly.

"It's Ross, by the way," he added, the smile never leaving his face as he let his gaze drift to the dishes sitting unattended to by the sink.

As Evan continued, he merely shrugged. "Well, I'll just help you out this way, right? For starters, anyway. Guess the only way to really repay you is to save your life sometime," Ross cast him a grin, rolling up his sleeves.

Pleased that the older Fort-resident had finally relented, he took the discarded dish clothes and put them on, letting his hands slide into the hot water that had already been sitting in the sink.

"You better not break anything,"

It was like those five words had jinxed him. Damn. Just like when he was a kid, and someone said "I'm gonna fail this test" and their friend quickly replied with "no, don't say that or you'll jinx it!" Only, this time he didn't have time to "knock on wood", which would have normally reversed the effects.

Oh, he'd been doing just fine too. He only had five dishes left in his pile, just five. Someone shoved by him, holding their hand that appeared to be reddened angrily by a burn. The push had been gentle, but nonetheless sufficient enough to cause him to lose his composure and all together lose his hold on the plate he was holding.

The dish slid from his hand in liquid time, plummetting down to the earth like a cataclymic meteor. It smashed on the floor in what felt to be slow motion, it's pearly surface shattering into fragments that scattered around his shoes. The noise could only be described as akin to a pin dropping in utter silence. He turned swiftly, jumping in surprise. And then a second smashing sound resounded in the kitchen-- his little stumble had caused his elbow to bump one of the dishes sitting on the counter, therefore, it too fell to its death.

He just stared after the two lost plates, blinking like a deer caught in the headlight, his mouth formed in a perfect 'o' shape. He then looked back at Evan, green eyes still half-glazed as he tried to read for an expression. Words couldn't seem to form, they all simply died in his throat. Shit, dishes were valuable. He was already predicting his demise. Yes, if it wasn't Evan that'd be kicking his ass, it'd be the other bunch of grumpy bear-men.

"I'm..." the broken word fell from his lips, left not followed by any other syllables to help him get his apology across.