#peacehammer

Anyways, here’s a little meme for my Peacehammer AU. I’ve been doing a lot of digital art lately and have been working a lot on my style.

So, I am part of a writing group, this is the latest submission. The stimulus for the piece is "Strange bedfellows". Also; it should be read with the voice of an upperclass Brit.

Expedition

This document is composed of extracts from the diary of Sir Reginald Smythe, Explorer, from his expedition to observe and photograph the lesser striped mountain lion.

Day 1

The preparations for the expedition are complete. I was joined at the airport in Brazil by the photographer, Clive Davis, who shall be my companion for the journey. He seems a rough sort of fellow, but his reviews show him to be capable. His lady wife however seemed entirely unsuitably dressed, clad as she was in some sort of bikini affair. Fortunately, she will not be coming; as such attire is unsuitable for hard mountain trekking.

Much of the rest of the day was spent travelling and discussing functional things about the trip. Davis seemed somewhat distracted, most likely by the scenery.

Day 2

We set up base camp in a location where we have been told the lesser striped lion is said to frequent. While lacking the basic amenities of a comfortable hotel, this shall be our home for the next few weeks, and no doubt we shall grow to like it. The cold wind is somewhat bracing, and we have plenty of supplies.

After sorting out things such as watch rotas, cleaning and food preparation, we settled in to look for the elusive Felis concolor.

Day 3

During my watch, I happen across Davis performing some kind of repetitive movement underneath his coat. He seemed somewhat embarrassed, so I congratulate him on performing exercise to stay warm. After giving me a frankly odd look, he said that he needed to visit the latrine, or somesuch in the common parlance. I respected the man’s privacy, and after quite a long absence, he returned, somewhat hot and bothered. Quite an achievement in this cold climate.

That must be quite an effective exercise, I should remember to ask him about it.

Day 4

Davis has suggested that we play a game called ‘poker’, using our equipment as betting chips. I have not played this game before, but I am a dab hand at whist, so should pick it up quickly. In any case, it should while away some of the time.

Day 4, Addendum

Davis is now in possession of all my equipment. I managed to extricate myself from the game before he could win my clothes in addition to everything else.

Day 5

After unsuccessfully trying to whittle a bowl from some of the local wood, and not finding any native plants which are edible, I was forced to perform a series of frankly demeaning tasks at the behest of Davis, in addition to doing more than my fair share of the tasks around the camp. I suspect that he may have been taking pictures during this time as well, although, when pressed, he claimed that he was merely ready to take a picture of the mountain lion, should one appear. At least he is diligent in that respect.

Day 6

Still no sighting of the animal. Camp discipline continues to decline. Despite me doing the majority of the tasks, Davis is barely doing the reduced tasks allocated to him. I shall have to lecture him on the matter. Despite him being a formidable person, I have no fear of him as I was quite a boxer in university.

Day 6, addendum.

It appears that boxing offers no defence against a swift kick to the groin, and in addition to other bruises, when doubled over in pain, a knee to the face hurts. While tender, I don’t believe my nose is broken. Davis, carrying his camera, appeared to be sympathetic after the fight, laughing in a way I believe was to increase camaraderie.

Day 7

Still no sighting of the animal.

While tending to my wounds, I discovered that the bottle of medicinal alcohol is nearly empty. Questioning Davis on the matter, he said that he had had injuries to attend to. I asked what kind, but he said that I wouldn’t understand. Wary of yesterday’s altercation, I did not press the matter.

Day 8

Still no sighting of the animal. Davis continues to be surly. I worry about the amount that he has had to drink, and while looking for tracks of the mountain lion, I happened to train my field glasses back to camp and observed Davis taking a swig from what looked like a whiskey bottle. Quite where he got that from, I am unsure.

Day 9

Still no sighting of the animal. Early in the day, I observed Davis shouting sexual themed obscenities out at the mountain. I cautioned him against drawing attention to ourselves, whereupon I became the target of his ire. I retreated to a safe distance to avoid another fight.

Later that day he appeared to be apologetic. Although I observed that he was moving in a way suggesting he was drunk, and moved very close to me, giving me a manly hug. Having played rugby, I am not unfamiliar with such masculine bonding, however upon contact with the bulge in his trousers, I had occasion to recall that I had left something on the burner and removed myself from the situation.

Day 10

Still no sighting of the animal. Despite my best efforts, the camp is in a state. Davis has taken to throwing objects he deems to be of no further use down the mountain. I attempt to retrieve them to maintain a tidy camp. After a period where he threw an object, I retrieve it back to camp, whereupon he threw it again for his amusement, I am rather tired of this, and give up the struggle. After throwing a few more items and seeing that I no longer retrieve them, he returns back to his tent for some of his curious exercise.

Day 11

Disaster.

Dear reader, I shall attempt to recount the activities of this day.

Davis seemed back to his usual convivial self in the morning, helping with observations, and other camp tasks. However during lunch time where he was preparing a tasty smelling stew with some of the remaining meat, we heard a rustling in the bushes.

Behold! It was the lesser striped mountain lion, several in fact. Davis called out to me to take vital supplies, including his camera, while he shoed away the creatures. I attempted to take some pictures, however I am unfamiliar with the device. During the scuffle, the oil burner stove upturned, and spilled burning oil throughout the camp. Gathering my equipment, I heard Davis shout to me to “Save yourself” before I headed back to civilisation.

It was a long trek, but lightly burdened, I made it, more than somewhat exhausted.

Day 12

The end of the expedition. I send a telegram back home to inform them of the likely demise of Davis, and the end of the expedition.

2 days after the expedition

Back in Blighty. I have a sad task to perform, I inform Davis’s wife of his demise. She seemed to take it as well as can be expected, and opened a bottle of brandy to help her through this difficult time. Fortunately she had a fine strapping gentleman on hand to help her through this process. I excused myself from the situation, and left them to their grief.

8 days after the expedition

After a brief stay in hospital to recover, and contact from the Brazilian authorities, I am up before the board to explain how my travelling companion is dead, large parts of the mountain lion habitat have been destroyed, litter strewn all over the mountain, and other than some very blurry pictures of something which may or may not be a lesser striped mountain lion, the only pictures taken during the expedition appear to be of me in a variety of compromising poses.