Sam Stone is not really a pride kind of person, but his daughter is, and with him trying the social thing again, she's convinced him to come under the guise of helping keep track of the grandkids. So here he is on the weekends, feeling vaguely out of place and drifting around from site to site on the tour.
II. University
He does take advantage of some of those lectures, though, and can be found around the university in the evenings with a book before or after the class.
III. Cake and five year olds
It's the most rambunctious of the grandkids that gets away from the rest of the group, and Sam that has the spare attention and hands to chase after him. The five year old boy has heard about a giant cake, and of course is determined to try it out, because it's cake and he's a headstrong little boy. Wonder where he got that from.
Sam catches up to him, out of breath, to find the boy has all but dived into the cake and is covered on most of his top half with frosting. He sighs, picks him up, and endures being swatted and giggled at by frosting-covered hands.
It's only when some of that frosting winds up in his mouth-- he tries to spit it out, and fails-- that he stops short with another of those goddamned pulse-heartbeart-hollow feeling. There's the usual vivid scene or memory or vision or whatever it is he's come to expect from those things, of flying again but this time with purpose, tracking something, testing the wind for a scent. This time, though, with it comes a suddenly overwhelming sense of everything smelling too strongly. The frosting, the car exhaust, the mass of people nearby, the boy in his arms, everything. He very nearly topples over in shock, hastily freeing up one hand from holding his grandson to cover his mouth and nose with his forearm.
"What the hell...."
"That's a bad word, Grandpa," his grandson scolds, then giggles some more. It's hard to tell if the cake affected him; he's just a hyper little boy.
IV. Weekend Events - post-cake
Sam lets his daughter deal with getting her son cleaned up, while he finds some grassy spot somewhere to sit, feeling woozy and with random scents bringing tears to his eyes, mostly because they're too strong, but occasionally because they spark a (non-echo) memory that is uncomfortable or associated with too much emotion. He hates this, but he doesn't trust himself to drive home until he has this smell thing at least somewhat sorted out-- or at least can stand up without feeling dizzy.
He may wind up getting a ride from someone. Or walking home. But for now, he's sitting. Feel free to come bother him, network people.
OTA
Sam Stone is not really a pride kind of person, but his daughter is, and with him trying the social thing again, she's convinced him to come under the guise of helping keep track of the grandkids. So here he is on the weekends, feeling vaguely out of place and drifting around from site to site on the tour.
II. University
He does take advantage of some of those lectures, though, and can be found around the university in the evenings with a book before or after the class.
III. Cake and five year olds
It's the most rambunctious of the grandkids that gets away from the rest of the group, and Sam that has the spare attention and hands to chase after him. The five year old boy has heard about a giant cake, and of course is determined to try it out, because it's cake and he's a headstrong little boy. Wonder where he got that from.
Sam catches up to him, out of breath, to find the boy has all but dived into the cake and is covered on most of his top half with frosting. He sighs, picks him up, and endures being swatted and giggled at by frosting-covered hands.
It's only when some of that frosting winds up in his mouth-- he tries to spit it out, and fails-- that he stops short with another of those goddamned pulse-heartbeart-hollow feeling. There's the usual vivid scene or memory or vision or whatever it is he's come to expect from those things, of flying again but this time with purpose, tracking something, testing the wind for a scent. This time, though, with it comes a suddenly overwhelming sense of everything smelling too strongly. The frosting, the car exhaust, the mass of people nearby, the boy in his arms, everything. He very nearly topples over in shock, hastily freeing up one hand from holding his grandson to cover his mouth and nose with his forearm.
"What the hell...."
"That's a bad word, Grandpa," his grandson scolds, then giggles some more. It's hard to tell if the cake affected him; he's just a hyper little boy.
IV. Weekend Events - post-cake
Sam lets his daughter deal with getting her son cleaned up, while he finds some grassy spot somewhere to sit, feeling woozy and with random scents bringing tears to his eyes, mostly because they're too strong, but occasionally because they spark a (non-echo) memory that is uncomfortable or associated with too much emotion. He hates this, but he doesn't trust himself to drive home until he has this smell thing at least somewhat sorted out-- or at least can stand up without feeling dizzy.
He may wind up getting a ride from someone. Or walking home. But for now, he's sitting. Feel free to come bother him, network people.