Draft Log #3: During v. 2.0

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Day 3-5
When: August 27th-August 29th
Where: ONCE MORE INTO THE-- ...BEACH
Summary: Like it says above. The draftees reach the beach.
Rating: V FOR VIOLENT BEHAVIOUR!!


Once again, That Handy Useful Information Link. Also a link to the previous draft log!

Comments

[automailed]

[Oh geez, and someone was watching him? Seriously? That's just his luck...]

...Yeah, looks that way.

[lostinmyway]

Oh, thank you! Maybe we can work together for a little while.

[automailed]

Uh, sure. You need help with that?

[Soon as he makes sure his automail isn't jammed all to hell.]

[lostinmyway]

Oh, yes, that would be very nice. It's always good to have friends help you out.

[And yes, you're headed distinctly in that direction already, Ed.]

[automailed]

[Oh well, here goes. He steps over to her, reaching out to take the one end of the box.]

Do we even know where these are going?

[lostinmyway]

[And she takes the other. With Grune about an inch shy of six feet tall in her heels, this is going to be awkward.]

Hmm.... I wonder.

[Mostly, she's been just carrying the boxes around until someone tells her where to put them or she forgets about them.]

[automailed]

Wait, you don't know? Isn't that something we should find out first?

[lostinmyway]

Do you think so?

[automailed]

Of course! Otherwise we'll just end up wandering around with this. That's a waste of time.

[lostinmyway]

Oh, all right.

[This is Grune, not going anywhere.]

[automailed]

[....Oh, good grief.] Look, let's... just follow the droids, then. They must know where this stuff is going.

[lostinmyway]

All right. [Grune attempts to wander in the direction of the nearest droid with her end of the box.]

[automailed]

[Bit of an airhead, isn't she? But whatever, they're moving now.]

How long have you been moving these things?

[lostinmyway]

[And now they're not! Grune has trouble doing two things at once--in this case, walking and thinking.]

Hmm. Let me see....

[automailed]

[And when she stops, he's still walking, so he gets a box right in the gut. HRNGH OW WHY DID SHE STOP]

[lostinmyway]

[For some reason, all of a sudden, her new friend seems hurt. How strange.]

Oh, are you all right?

[automailed]

[Grunt. He'll answer when he can breathe again...]

Why'd you stop!?

[lostinmyway]

Hmm. Why did I stop?

[automailed]

[........Why did he volunteer for this again.]

I asked where you were putting the boxes...

[lostinmyway]

Oh. All right.

[...]

[automailed]

[......

......

......

Seriously?]

Nevermind, just- let's follow the droids.

[lostinmyway]

[Seriously.]

All right. [Perfectly happily, she starts walking again.]

[automailed]

[Mental note: don't give her anything pointy or dangerous. Or overly complex. Goooood grief.]

Hey, what's your name?

[lostinmyway]

I'm Grune! What's your name?

[automailed]

Edward. [Grune the Clueless. He will remember this.]