<strong>Name:</strong>Giga<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Townhall/House 2/Bus Area<br/><strong>Summary:</strong>Creeping On Maria Some More; Being A Motherfucking Doozer<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Maria, People At The Bus<br/><br/>Giga<em>almost</em>stopped to ask what a tree was, but then he remembered it was something that grew in the ground. It was kind of like a street lamp, except it was wood and alive and it just grew all over the fucking place wherever it fucking pleased. Sometimes they saw them as they drove around, but they were dead. Mostly in the long haul, since most trees had by now been hacked up for fuel during the cold times, to keep warming fires burning when the night got so cold it could kill a person just as sure as hot would. He nodded, and decided that it would probably be best to feed a piece of it to Twitch first and observe: if Twitch survived twenty-four hours then it was probably safe. And if it was not then, well, who gave a fuck? It was Twitch.<br/><br/>The big man nodded slowly when Big Tim granted his request. He took one long, sharp breath through his nostrils, tensing himself up as if for a charge. The man's cold blue eyes looked at her and it was hard to say what there was to see in them: it was not lust, not something as pedestrian as physical desire. But it was possessive and Giga had to hold himself back from leaping onto Maria right then and there.<br/><br/><strong>"Yes."</strong>Giga said to the small red-headed woman that now belonged to him and him alone. The obvious reason ran parallel to Big Tim's decision to grant Giga's own request: it gave Giga something to take away later if he needed to teach a lesson, or even if he was just wroth and decided to be cruel. Or maybe, right now, it was just to be sweet because Giga had his nice thing and wanted her to be happy. These were probably all true to one degree or another.<br/><br/>The raider turned on his heel and walked out of the town hall with a spring in his step that was somewhere between a schoolboy given a shiny new toy and . . . something else. In the Old World there were varying terms for it, but the general consensus was that men who displayed it were a danger and belonged behind fucking bars at least, but really deserved a bullet to the head to spare the state the expense of housing and feeding them.<br/><br/>Giga slung the heavy ballistic shield over his shoulders, securing it to his back. It gave him the appearance of a gigantic, humanoid tortoise. He knew what one of them was. He had seen one, once, somehow turned on its back. Giga had watched it struggle for several minutes before killing it and making soup out of its flesh, using the thing's own shell as a bowl. That had been some good eating. The big raider kept thoughts of happier times in mind as he worked his way down into the basement of the second house, gathering a couple of four litre jugs under his arms and working his way back up the stairs. They creaked under his weight, even more strained with the added weight of the home-brewed liquor, but they held up for that trip. Giga carried them to the bus, standing them upright so that Chris could load them up. The jugs were plastic and had a faded sticker with an image of a snow-covered mountain on the side of them, along with shapes that Giga knew to be letters but whose meaning was impenetrable to him: literacy was not something he had learned growing up. Reading was fundamental. No episodes of Sesame Street teaching him that 'S was Shank' for lil' Giga.<br/><br/>He made four more trips, hauling the jugs in the same manner. Though on the last trip there was only a single jug, as there was an uneven number, sadly. He made up for it by grabbing an armful of sealed mason jars containing what seemed like strips of jerky. It was a serendipitous find, as the jars were tucked out of the way, hidden from casual view and only chance had caused Giga to pick up on them. Everyone loved jerky. Giga was no exception. In their position there was just no being choosy. And Devon's woman could probably do something to take it to a whole new level of gastronomical delectability. At any rate, his job was done and it fell to Chris to get that stuff into Dom's bus.<br/><br/>Giga's heavy footfalls came tromping back into the town hall, and he made his way to the prisoners. He singled out Maria, holding his hand out and curling it back towards him, gesturing for the petite red-head to stand up and come to him.