Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Feb 8, 2008 21:24:29 GMT -5
Caden folded his arms and stared down his nose at Basil. It might be late, but exhaustion could only make him so clueless. "Basil Dixon, are you trying to take that plant into a hot car, so you can leave it there while you investigate a scene for hours and hours until it fries?"
He unwrapped the remaining popsicle —cherry, which wasn't a favorite— and stuck it in his mouth. It would wake him a little, but mostly he was just too lazy to open the freezer and stick it back in the box. Trying to hold it in his mouth without any assistance from his hands, he picked up his camera and nearly dropped it as he saved the popsicle from plummeting to the floor. There was something slightly mortifying about eating a popsicle in front of another person; he wasn't sure how Basil managed it. Popsicles were icy, and that probably hadn't been a good idea. Popsicles were naturally messy, unsightly foods to eat, and you just couldn't do it gracefully no matter how hard you tried. He wouldn't have cared, but Basil seemed to have perfected the art and he certain wasn't up for any criticism of his popsicle eating technique. Of course, trying to put his camera in its case with only one hand while the other gripped a popsicle and tried not to drip on any expensive photo equipment.
Setting the popsicle down while balancing it on its wrapper, he placed camera, lens and a slew of doodads in the bag. Then, he pulled them all out again, replaced the battery in his camera, stuck in a memory card, and stuff everything back into the bag. Running down his mental checklist, he determined that short of "a good night's sleep" and "ten vestal virgins," he had everything he needed to successfully document the site. He slung the bag over his shoulder, snatched up the flashlight and faced Basil again. "Ready."
He unwrapped the remaining popsicle —cherry, which wasn't a favorite— and stuck it in his mouth. It would wake him a little, but mostly he was just too lazy to open the freezer and stick it back in the box. Trying to hold it in his mouth without any assistance from his hands, he picked up his camera and nearly dropped it as he saved the popsicle from plummeting to the floor. There was something slightly mortifying about eating a popsicle in front of another person; he wasn't sure how Basil managed it. Popsicles were icy, and that probably hadn't been a good idea. Popsicles were naturally messy, unsightly foods to eat, and you just couldn't do it gracefully no matter how hard you tried. He wouldn't have cared, but Basil seemed to have perfected the art and he certain wasn't up for any criticism of his popsicle eating technique. Of course, trying to put his camera in its case with only one hand while the other gripped a popsicle and tried not to drip on any expensive photo equipment.
Setting the popsicle down while balancing it on its wrapper, he placed camera, lens and a slew of doodads in the bag. Then, he pulled them all out again, replaced the battery in his camera, stuck in a memory card, and stuff everything back into the bag. Running down his mental checklist, he determined that short of "a good night's sleep" and "ten vestal virgins," he had everything he needed to successfully document the site. He slung the bag over his shoulder, snatched up the flashlight and faced Basil again. "Ready."