exastris_scientia | retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

[ If Sheppard was awake and knew what Evan was thinking, he'd most definitely agree. In Pegasus, one learns quick how fast things can go from pear-shaped to straight up fucked in no time flat. I mean, space vampires and replicators and torture, oh my.

Here is cool, cold enough to warrant a fire, not just to keep predators at bay, but to keep them warm as well. Now it's just the waiting game. Caldwell and his ship are on the return trip back to Earth, so they are a no go and past their position anyways. Lorne's company is a bonus, as is the fact that there aren't any stone-melting lizards ready to claw their faces off. Anyways, it's way better than McKay. He's pretty sure he'd have stunned one of them just to stop the torture of his whining after the first five hours.

The landscape isn't so much of an issue with John, but then he isn't exactly a guy for aesthetics unless it's something that goes really, really fast. But there's only so much a guy can take before he's lobbing pebbles in his fellow service member's general direction out of sheer boredom. Still, not as bad as the desert, and boy is he glad of that. John's asleep, fast asleep, actually, and that's rare on an outing like this. It shows the amount of trust he puts in the other man. The fact that he can fall asleep deeply despite unfamiliar surroundings, and let the other man do his job on watch.

Outside of the fire, there isn't much to wrap up with, and John is still in most of his gear by force of habit. His head is pillowed on his arm, and his legs are tucked up closer to his chest. The sun will be up soon, and they'll start their day again. Scouting what they can within range of their campsite, gather something that isn't power bars and MREs. What he wouldn't give for a fruit cup instead of berries that may or may not be poisonous in some terrible horrible way that can only happen in the Pegasus galaxy.

There's the sound of an alien bird or tree-dwelling something as the sky begins to lighten, and it causes him to shift and stir slightly. It isn't enough to wake him completely though. ]

[Evan glances over when he hears the bird chirp (or whatever kind of sound that is supposed to be), trying to catch a glimpse of it but it's as colorless as the rest of this sad, dead world. His attention back on Sheppard he watches him, taking in the details and changing light, wondering how to capture it best.

He decides on erasing and smudging techniques, giving the face a softer touch here and there, trying to capture the different qualities of light and shade and emerging colors in the few monochrome lines he can work with.

In order to do so his thumb starts touching the face on paper, almost carressing it-- annnnd he will make it a very decided point to not have thought that just now, thank you.]

[ John is still fast asleep for a few more minutes, at least until the fire reaches a particularly dry piece of wood, and it crackles and snaps in a way that is more reminiscent of a footstep over a branch. It causes him to tense and jolt up, one hand bracing on the ground and the other reaching for his sidearm, but not drawing it.

It takes him a few moments to get himself together. To recognize his surroundings and bring the drab world into focus. His posture relaxes a bit and lets his hand drift away from his firearm just as he drops down to rest on his elbow. He reaches up to scrub a hand over his face, making a soft noise of complaint at the stubble already under his palm. After a few more moments he looks over at Lorne. ]

Sorry. [ He looks over to where the sky is starting to lighten, and his face screws up in disgust. ] Even the sunrises here are depressing.

[ He drops down all the way then, and flings an arm over his face as if it would stave off the fakey looking dawn. ]

[Evan gives a low chuckle at the last antics.]

It's just so weird, isn't it? Like a filter. Like you've lost the ability to see certain colors.

[Maybe that's why he's already on edge. It's just insulting to one's perception, really. He sighs, nudging the small pot heating over the fire, boiling some of the dark bitter plants they've been collecting.]

Want some of that root coffee that doesn't taste like coffee, I just really need to pretend it does?

[ Well the saying is misery loves company, and here in the Pegasus galaxy that little gem got taken to heart. ]

Ugh, it's awful. What I wouldn't do for a little hint of blue sky.

[ It's only slightly muffled and he takes a couple more minutes to himself before sitting up once more, even if it is mostly at Lorne's offer. ]

For some fakey root coffee to go with the fakey sunrise I get to share with you, Major? Sure.

And you get to look at my fakey smile, too, how about that.

[It's not all fake, though, when Evan hands him a mug of the steaming something, a glint of mirth in his eyes.]

Alright, one double latte mochaccino frappe with whipped cream and cinnamon coming up.

Man, and I didn't bring anything for a tip.

[ He says, actually smiling as well when he reaches out to take the mug from him. ]

I guess I'll have to make up for it by being extra charming.

[ When he does blow on it and then take a sip of the root stew liquid---stuff, he grimaces at the bitter taste washing over his tongue. That was vile. ]

Tell you what, you get me a distraction, and I'll snag the good stuff from the labs when we get back so we can wash this awful taste out of our mouths. Deal?

[Evan chuckles as he takes a sip, then starts coughing because he forgot to prepare himself for the taste to come.]

Jesus. [He runs the back of his hand over his mouth and he so wants to complain some more. But the "coffee" is hot and somewhat nutritious. Besides, in a world where everything sucks, complaining gets old very quickly.]

You got yourself a deal, alright.

[ John winces in sympathy. The taste is pretty horrid, but nutrients enough to keep them going until they can get back.

He reaches up into a vest pocket, pulling out a small ziploc bag. He has a few herb sprigs left from the mainland. It's something really close to mint, and chewing it is a little weird, but it's better than this stuff. There isn't much left, but he's happy to share with Lorne. He offers the little baggy out to him. ]

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired of just around here. I think we can afford to head over that rise we were both eyeing the other day without going out of range of the gate if they decide to get back with us early.

Oh God, yes, please. [The words come out in a rush because holy crap, he's more than ready to move. He gulps the rest of his coffee down with another scrunched up, pained expression and takes a sprig with a grateful hum, shoving the not-quite-mint between his teeth.]

Race you to it? [Come on. He's dying for the exercise.]

[ John chuckles before he downs the rest of his mug with something close to a full body shudder. God, it's awful. He's willing to bet if they brought this back Ronon and Teyla would expound the virtues of something or other and it being a delicacy. Congratulations to John and Evan, right?

Never again. Ever, ever.

But then Lorne is distracting him with the prospect of a run. A race, actually, and he smiles. ]

Loser has to carry McKay's stuff for a week after we get back.

[If ever you needed motivation...]

Deal. Hope you enjoy your extra workout.

[Because losing this is no longer an option. Being around McKay for a week straight? He'd rather deal with this planet, thank you very much.]

[ Hey, how do you think he finds a way to dig deep and beat Ronon once in every other blue moon? He imagines carrying all that gear and it just inspires him. ]

Extra workout my ass, that gear is squarely on your shoulders, buddy.

[ John takes off, not even waiting for the go. Who said they had to play fair here? He never heard that leave anybody's mouth. ]

What the... hey!!

[Son of a--

He stifles a curse and quickly follows suit, breaking into a run. Sheppard secured himself a decent head start but Evan's quick and stubborn.] That won't help you!

[ Oh, hoho, no. John is moving. He's used to running with Ronon, and Lorne is gonna have to play real dirty to get him to stop. Like tackling kind of dirty, cause he's not coming in last. ]

Seems to be doing a good enough job right now!

[ Called back as he starts up the hill to the ridge. ]

[Oh God, he is gonna carry McKay's stuff, isn't he.]

You wish!

[Evan is a good sport - they just talked about Reed and Coughlin, the sore losers on his team and how playing with them is pretty much impossible. Evan doesn't like sore losers and he doesn't like to be one, either. Normally he'd do his best and play fair.

Normally.

Maybe if they had done this sooner. If they hadn't spent the last days hanging around the gate in this colorless trap until he was beyond stir crazy. Now? There's too much pent up energy and besides, Sheppard started it.

Lorne waits until he reaches the hill, the incline narrowing the distance between them. Then he propels himself foward and manages to grab a handful of trouser leg, yanking hard as he comes down.]

[ Sheppard knows he's a good sport, but he's counting on that for trying to get ahead of Evan. He's making good time and distance ahead of him until they hit the hill, and Evan basically tackles him. He manages a step outside of his leg being grabbed, then Lorne tugs and wow that's just dirty.

John goes down with a grunt, coughing at the grey dirt that gets kicked up in their scuffle, and tries to get his leg free. He's not laughing. Not at all. Except he is, cause this is ridiculous. He leans up to try and push at the other guys shoulders, all the while attempting to crawl back toward the top of the hill. ]

Seriously? Get off my leg. [ He's still laughing though, face covered in grey now. God, they are going to need baths after this, but all they found was that crappy little stream back in the other direction. ]

retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

scree you spoil me.

noo u.

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