Post by saralinda on Apr 17, 2010 11:44:42 GMT -5
((OOC: Just a quick little scene to practice with Augie a bit. I haven't played him in a while.)))
"Come here, let's see what to make of you." August O'Neil picked up a small, plain wooden sculpture of a smiling god and ran inquiring fingers over it. The piece had been carved from a single block of honey-colored wood
--Guapinol...heartwood...--
and was smooth as silk. A Chaman talisman of protection, if he was any judge. Palming the artifact in one large hand, he examined it more closely through his pocket scope. There were no obvious breaks in the surface of the wood, nothing to indicate that this piece contained any secrets. And yet he knew that it contained the key to life itself, especially for the unwary who did not belong in the jungle.
"A hospitable god," he smiled. He licked the pad of his thumb and ran it slowly against the grain until he discovered the faint line that was etched there.
Whenever he had to destroy an artifact, the anthropologist always apologized ahead of time--to himself, to humanity, to those who had gone before, even to the universe itself.
"Sorry about this." With that, he pressed gently with his thumb and the god split in two. August was quick to catch the tiny clay vial that lay hidden inside. This he lifted and scrutinized in the patch of sunlight that streamed into his simple hut.
After making up his mind about its contents, August uncorked the vial and poured the dark liquid into the slack mouth of the young man who was lying beside him on the floor, his head pillowed on a worn backpack. He massaged the boy's throat until, gagging and gasping, the young man opened his eyes.
It took a few minutes, but shortly the boy mumbled, "Dr. O'Neil?"
August chuckled and helped the still-groggy young man to sit up. He slapped him heartily on the back before offering him a sip from another vessel--this one a flat, black flask.
"Never lost a graduate assistant yet," he announced, a look of deep satisfaction in his shining eyes.
"Come here, let's see what to make of you." August O'Neil picked up a small, plain wooden sculpture of a smiling god and ran inquiring fingers over it. The piece had been carved from a single block of honey-colored wood
--Guapinol...heartwood...--
and was smooth as silk. A Chaman talisman of protection, if he was any judge. Palming the artifact in one large hand, he examined it more closely through his pocket scope. There were no obvious breaks in the surface of the wood, nothing to indicate that this piece contained any secrets. And yet he knew that it contained the key to life itself, especially for the unwary who did not belong in the jungle.
"A hospitable god," he smiled. He licked the pad of his thumb and ran it slowly against the grain until he discovered the faint line that was etched there.
Whenever he had to destroy an artifact, the anthropologist always apologized ahead of time--to himself, to humanity, to those who had gone before, even to the universe itself.
"Sorry about this." With that, he pressed gently with his thumb and the god split in two. August was quick to catch the tiny clay vial that lay hidden inside. This he lifted and scrutinized in the patch of sunlight that streamed into his simple hut.
After making up his mind about its contents, August uncorked the vial and poured the dark liquid into the slack mouth of the young man who was lying beside him on the floor, his head pillowed on a worn backpack. He massaged the boy's throat until, gagging and gasping, the young man opened his eyes.
It took a few minutes, but shortly the boy mumbled, "Dr. O'Neil?"
August chuckled and helped the still-groggy young man to sit up. He slapped him heartily on the back before offering him a sip from another vessel--this one a flat, black flask.
"Never lost a graduate assistant yet," he announced, a look of deep satisfaction in his shining eyes.