<strong>Name:</strong>Giga<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Camp Site<br/><strong>Summary:</strong>Setting Up A Tent, Getting Food<br/><strong>Tagged: </strong>Maria<br/><br/>Giga was content to let Maria find solace and refuge in her book. It was better than the young red-head engaging in caterwauling and struggling and other misbehaving that ended with Giga having to slap her around and tying her up on the hood to teach her her place. So long as she was quiet and reading her book, well, then as far as Giga was concerned Maria was behaving herself and that was just fine and dandy. Giga took up his place in their little convoy, with Chris manning the turret atop his HMMWV. That was not the most comfortable place to be, but it paid to have someone on the M2 in case another band of raiders came upon them and wanted to start some shit. That did not happen often, and when it did it was more frequently that they would just warily pass each other by: there was too much blood and pain and not enough profit when two raider bands clashed. Sometimes it was necessary and Giga enjoyed fighting against people who could fight back decently for once. But the spoils were always lean, and seldom worth it in the end, considering what it took to put another raider band down.<br/><br/>The HMMWV had a sound system, and it played discs. Giga had one, a performance of Old World high class stuff. It was really rousing and moving stuff: classical pieces with lots of sound and lots of fury. But some of it was calm and soothing. It was a nice ride to the camp site. Giga said nothing unless prompted, simply driving the big vehicle.<br/><br/><hr/>Once they arrived, Giga parked his HMMWV in a tactically prudent spot. The turret gun would be able to provide defense and coverage of their small camp, just in case. He heard Chris clamber down from the turret and go off to do his own thing. Giga killed the engine, and pocketed the keys, removing his seatbelt.<strong>"I'm going to set up my tent. You can walk around if you like, but don't go far."</strong>The large raider said, opening his door and stepping outside. He closed the door behind him, and then stretched himself out. None of the vehicles were really made for someone of his height or size, and it led to some discomfort after long periods of driving. It was easy enough to stretch out, and Giga was not one to complain about something as pedestrian as discomfort. He worked his way to the back of his vehicle, opening it up and drawing out the tent. It was compactly stowed and took up little space, which was rather nice. The raider then set about getting the thing set up, going through the motions with mechanical, perfunctory efficiency that came from deeply ingrained muscle memory. This was something that Giga had done so many times before that it was something he could do without thinking about it.<br/><br/>When he was done, Giga went back to his vehicle and pulled out a camping stove and a fuel cylinder, getting it set up and ready to go. He had a pot with some water on the boil in no time, and in short order added some potatoes to the water so that they would cook. He sat on the ground near his tent, keeping a close, intent eye on the cooking food. Unless he was called away or something else important happened, it would continue to consume all of his attention until the potatoes were done and ready to eat.