[identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] crossing_lostrp


The small group gathered early, collecting food to sustain them for lunch, but prepared to scavenge for their own meals after that. Rose was starting off wearing her backpack, and had a Bamboo walking stick. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail on top her head, keeping it out of the way. The Backpack held two changes of clothing two blankets wand bottled water. The Doctor carried nothing except what was in the pockets f his ever-present leather jacket. Sayid had one of John Locke’s knives tucked into his belt, and one of the sturdy spears from the found crate ‘just in case’.

Sayid had not understood why he had been asked to join them. He knew that between The Doctor and Doctor McKay his own technical knowledge was limited. But the Doctor insisted he’d be invaluable if they were dealing with older equipment and, The Doctor confided, he was obviously one of the ex-military types. He told the Iranian he wanted someone who could handle themselves, and was an adult, with them. Someone he trusted to help protect the group. Although when he said the group he’d turned to look at Rose. Sayid was not certain if The Doctor was mad or not, the things he had heard whispered round the campfire, but he was capable. And the obvious trust was an honor of its own.

McKay, Jon and Tara rounded out the group heading for the Transmitter. Tara had the map. The Doctor had announced he didn’t need it. Rose complained that such a statement was something only those male statements that tended to get people lost, so Tara had been handed the map to keep them on track, should the Doctor’s ‘excellent sense of direction’ fail them.

They had set off keeping to the shade of the treeline. Besides the shade, the ground was harder there, and easier to walk over. They were not traveling fast, in deference to McKay’s still hurting ribs.
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From: [identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com
Well, it was for certain that McKay didn't seem to notice, too caught up in the arguments, the counter-arguments and the small and the small, petty victories gained as he was. An hour after lunch, and once again, the astrophysicist pulled a piece of fruit out of a pack and bit into it. He rather enjoyed being able to have a discourse with someone who was knowledgeable, he wouldn't give him fluent, or even acknowledge it out loud, in the higher maths and the theories of the universe. While the rest might not be able to even comprehend, there, the pair were offering up and expounding on the mysteries of the universe. Heady stuff, really.

Rodney paused when everyone else did, taking the moment to lean over slightly and try to catch what little breath he had. His legs were aching, his arms, his chest. The declaration, however, brought him up, his expression one of complete disbelief. He shook his head as his back straightened. That's... a dense forest with-with-with who knows what in there. "Wait-wait-wait... In there? A mile." A statement. "In there." He sounded, well, dubious. "What about the whole 'getting there'? Not so safe."

[Faith] Got People? (tag Mara, open)

Date: 2006-04-13 07:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
After seven days, Faith finally declared herself to be sick and tired of her unscheduled tropical island vacation. Ok, it hadn't really taken her seven days, she'd pretty much been squirrelly by day three – that was when the crazy, mad patrols began. She told Mara that she just needed to keep making sure that there were no dangerous predators nearby, and the woman agreed easily that it was a good idea, but Faith got the feeling that she knew exactly what Faith was doing.

Couldn't explain it though. It was the Slayer gift, the Slayer power that made Faith need to run through the jungle. Running, jumping, climbing and sensing the jungle around her, playing predator, looking for prey. Unfortunately, there weren't any vampires or demons on the island, ('cept for whatever the fuck that smoke thing was and the fucked up weird ghost walkers) so she usually just ran and climbed until she burnt off the Slayer hunger.

(Hunger, yeah, that's it.)

Faith scurried up a tree, taking a few seconds to catch her breath. The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, and she knew that she'd have to get back to their beach campsite soon. She didn't like to leave Mara alone for very long. Hell, she didn't even go far into the trees out of fear of leaving the woman alone and unprotected on the beach. It was different now that there wasn't the plane to protect Mara and she didn't have the little hiding holes that Faith had found for her. They were exposed on the beach and though it meant a better chance of rescue, it also meant that Faith was keeping her guard up more.

(But if there's one thing Mara's good at, it's hiding.)

Imagining that she looked like Jane to someone's Tarzan, Faith executed a leaping jump from her perch to a branch the next tree over. She landed, perfectly balanced on the balls of her feet, then twisted, ran and jumped again. And again. The fourth leap was a bit of a miscalculation, and her feet slid from under her. Reflexes were everything and rather than resisting, she went with the slide, throwing her body to the side and grasping the underside of the branch. A quick duck of her legs behind her and she somersaulted to the ground.

"Oh yeah," Faith grinned, flexing her neck and legs as she rose up from her crouching position. She rolled her shoulders a bit. "A little bit rusty but still got it goin' on." (One good thing 'bout that plane falling out of the sky, least it gives me a chance to get back in the groove.)

Breathing heavy, but more from the adrenaline rush and euphoria of her wild dash and chase in the jungle, Faith turned her attention towards the beach. She could hear the waves splashing against the sand even within the cover of the trees. The salty, wet air tickled her nose and brushed her skin and she let the sounds and smells guide her back.

That was when she heard them. Voices. Not those whispering, slithering voices that had her grabbing Mara's arm and nearly dragging the woman out of the jungle, but real, human voices.

(Fuck yeah,) Faith thought.

Still, she couldn't be too cautious. With all of her Slayer stealth, she slowed her pace, ducking into the shadows the trees cast with the afternoon light. Faith moved quickly, yet quietly, although as she got close enough to see them from the trees, she realized she hadn't needed to be quiet at all. They were talking among themselves, one of them leaning over, gasping and whining as though he'd just been forced to walk a marathon. He was complaining, a man with big ears and a British accent was apparently egging him on, and several others milled about – only two females among them, and one really hot, olive complexioned well muscled man.

(Fuck yeah,) Faith thought again.

She made good time back to her and Mara's campsite, only five hundred or so feet down the beach from where the group of odd strangers milled around. A sand dune hid it, just barely, although the top of the tent could be seen with a good eye and from the right angle.

"Hey, Mara. We got people." Faith quirked a smile, jerking her head to indicate the direction they were in.

[Ash] Day 8: Lunch tales (tag transmitter folks)

Date: 2006-04-13 07:39 pm (UTC)
ext_12572: (Ashley J. "Ash" Williams)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"Yeah," Ash said with a grin. "If I stayed in camp another minute I was gonna tell Bill, 'You got a purty mouth.' Then the banjo music was gonna start up."

"Nah," he said after a moment. "It's just that every time anyone wanders away from camp, they stumble across another mystery or some more lost souls wandering through the jungle. Whatever you all find this time out, I plan to be here when it happens!"

[Mara] Got People? (tag Faith, open)

Date: 2006-04-13 07:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarred-muse.livejournal.com
Mara had not dreamed of nightingales in days. This place...had taken thoughts of nightingales from her, and the horrors waiting in Rome. Rome didn't exist now; Alex--Father Bernier--and his pain and horror and need for her didn't exist now. The world had collapsed into the Island for her, with its mysteries and terrors, and she had spent an entire week quietly adjusting while Faith helped her physically survive.

Faith. She had liked the woman enough to trust her instead of running when they and the Watchers had met in Sydney, in spite of the fact that Faith was a bit of a tigress under the skin. There was compassion there too, and scars, and sometimes her bravado seemed to hide a deep sadness. But most of all, she was fun, no-bullshit, and didn't mind Mara's weirdness much at all.

Mara was painting in the wet sand with her fingers, feet bare and hair blown all over the place. Her grey gauze dress clung to her damply as she carved geometric trellises covered in jasmine vines and then watched the surf eat them. The day's chores were done, she'd woven some more mats for her own shelter (Faith would need her own eventually; she didn't know why, but Mara simply knew this), and now...she just needed to create.

Something fuzzy and sand-speckled kept butting against her ankle as she worked. She finally reached down and scooped the little bundle of wiggle up--a feisty Golden Retriever puppy who Faith had found wandering the forest crying on one of her first runs through the woods. Mara could only guess where the little girl had come from; she didn't think the scary people in the woods kept pets. Mara had nicknamed her Orrie, for Aurum, the Latin word for gold. "Orrie Orrie Or-rie, little mischief-monster. You're not going to leave me alone until I play with you, are you?"

When Faith came around the dune radiating excitement, Mara looked up and smiled. "Good kind of people, then?"

"Hot kind of people in at least one case." Faith's eyes gleamed a little.

Mara laughed and went over to peek around the dune. Yes, people. Not the crazy grey-skinned ones with their slimy thoughts.

She blinked as she peered at them, "feeling" them a little. No wickedness; just tired, purposeful and--

The puppy squiggled out of her arms, and she was too stunned to not let him. "There's something...about some of them...I don't know...but one of them has a light around him. I--I think it may be okay, though...."

"Uh, Mara?" Faith asked, sounding just a little snarky.

Mara looked over--and realized Orrie was making a delighted beeline for the newcomers. "Oh crap," she said, a bit mortified.

OOC Giggles

Date: 2006-04-13 08:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
Um... Be careful what you wish for? (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/58799.html?thread=1851823#t1851823)

Re: OOC Giggles

Date: 2006-04-13 08:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarred-muse.livejournal.com
Fear the Random Puppehness!

[Faith] Game On (tag Mara, transmitter team)

Date: 2006-04-13 09:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
"Game on," Faith grinned at Mara. She wasn't too worried about this group; if Mara said that they felt okay then that was okay by her. Faith was a Slayer and she took things on – well, faith – and knew enough to know better than question Mara and her feelings. (Yeah, she's just off enough that it's easy to see why Iron Panties and Closet Gay Boy thought she might have been another potential Slayer.)

If they hadn't been Watchers, Faith might have felt badly for thinking ill of the dead. As it was, she didn't really think much on it at all once the thought passed through her brain.

Faith watched Orrie bound across the sand towards the group of people, following slowly behind. Despite Mara's affirmation of the "goodness" of this group, Faith didn't let her guard down. It was normal, a part of who and what she was. She was sizing them up, each and everyone, taking out the potential threats and figuring out the worst case scenario and how to counter it.

Buffy and Giles had always accused her of being impulsive, of rushing in without a plan. That had only been true half the time back then (and that Faith is gone anyway, mostly, trying at least) and it was less true now. Faith often had a plan (Hell, you don't stay in one piece and get respect in cell block D if you don't think on your feet and plan your way round the rest of the starving bitches); her plans just typically weren't those that other people would come up with first.

('Specially not B.)

None of the people were armed with guns – that she could tell from this distance – and the two blondes looked about as creampuff as Mara. The British guy got her hackles up just because he was British, and yeah, she knew that she was going to have to get over that . . . eventually. The Complainer wasn't much of a challenge, ('Less he talks me to death), so that left the teenager (no sweat), the tall dark haired kinda dorky looking guy and Tall, Dark and Muscled (definitely dangerous).

Faith walked with purposeful strides, but kept her hands in plain view. Not like there was any place to hide anything other than a stake in her denim shorts and white tank, and even that was pushing it. Faith knew that there was no way she could hide the Slayer power and poise; she had never tried to do so and she'd just spent the last year and half in lockup making sure that she kept every bit of the Slayer out on display. Damsel in distress wasn't her style anyway.

As the puppy lunged at the squatting blonde, tackling her as best a puppy could, Faith drew closer and did a quick reassessment of the group. She shifted her estimation of the British guy; he looked like he walked the line between crazy and dangerous, and he'd require keeping an eye on.

Stopping a safe distance away, close enough to talk without shouting, but far enough to see trouble coming, Faith called out the blonde on her knees. "Yo. I think she likes you."

[OOC: Yeah, I know Tara is there. But I figure that Tara is far more likely to recognize Faith (or rather Faith's body, because it was inhabited by Buffy for a good deal of the time) before Faith recognizes Tara.]

[Mara] Game On (tag Faith, transmitter team)

Date: 2006-04-13 09:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarred-muse.livejournal.com
Mara trailed after slowly, pushing her floppy black hair out of her eyes. Let Faith be the in-your-face one...she was good at it. Mara...was best with people one at a time, when you could really talk to them.

Orrie was going nuts. She wagthoomped into one lady's midsection, leaped out of her arms, buzzed the whole crowd a few times and then went scrambling back to Mara for about three seconds to announce that there were people!!!!!--before running back to the blonde lady again. Hi! I'm a dog. I'm new at it. Isn't it exciting? Here, check out my belly. Got any treats? Wait--hey you! You've got boots. I'm gonna chew on 'em. *gnar gnar gnar*

Mara came up slowly, looking at each person in turn with a quiet intentness, as if she were memorizing their features. She spared the Doctor the longest glance, wondering why the light around him was bright and loud and multi-stranded, like something woven together. Something about it made her put a hand over her chest, as if to conceal the torn-feeling place the demon had left.

"Hi," she said to the newcomers shyly. Her smile was warm, but sad.

[Faith] Game On (tag Mara, transmitter team)

Date: 2006-04-13 10:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
The Brit was playing it cool and Faith could get onboard with that. He seemed relaxed, but she'd seen him size her and Mara up. And the Middle Eastern guy and the teenager - (What the - he's got a Scooby vibe all over him, what's up with that?)

Faith smiled easily, "Actually I'd kinda prefer a nice, hot bath and one of those fluffy hotel bathrobes, but despite the tropical scenery, from what I've seen so far, it ain't happening."

Faith hooked her fingers comfortably through the belt loops of her shorts, settling into an almost relaxed slouch. "I don't suppose y'all are about to point us to the really ritzy resort with cute little cabana boys, huh?"
From: [identity profile] tenebraeli.livejournal.com
When the puppy came rushing out of the jungle to tackle-pounce on Rose, Tara giggled. This was sur-real, but at least it was cute. Then the two women followed the dog, and she took a good look at them.

At one of them in particular. Tall, dark hair, beautiful and dangerous, moving like she had all the confidence in the world... it was Faith. The last she'd heard the girl was in prison, and doing well, redeeming herself for the murder. To see her here... now....

Tara pushed to the front of the group, without thinking at all. It was *Faith*, and while they hadn't been friends, at least she was a tie to her old life, to Sunnydale. Oh but what if she'd gone bad again, then no one here would know that except for her.

Mind whirling, Tara stepped forward, and said, "Faith? Is that really you?"

[McKay] Game On (everone :))

Date: 2006-04-13 10:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com
Great. Just... great.
Still, McKay was smart. He kept himself in the middle of the little group, even as the two women made contact. He didn't make any threatening moves, particularly as there would be absolutely nothing he could do anyway, even if he didn't have the issue of the ribs. While not averse to carrying a pistol, and he had actually used one successfully, he wasn't armed now. Positioning himself near the teenager, oddly enough, he glanced at the Doctor, to him, the defacto 'leader' of the group. Scary, but true.
From: [identity profile] scarred-muse.livejournal.com
Mara managed a small, timid smile at the lanky (shiny) stranger's comment, and sat down with her arms around her knees in the background while Faith introduced herself and made jokes.

/Where did they come from?/ But of course. They had come from the plane. /What plane?/ There was another. There had to be. The moment Faith had brought Orrie from the forest, she had known that. As usual, she didn't know /how/ she knew it--but she did. /There was another plane. A big one, this time. Oh...oh, that's so sad. So sad! How many of them died?/ Her chin trembled a little bit.

/It's all right. Their souls are gone. Free. They can't hurt anymore./ She reminded herself of this a few times, since bursting into tears in the middle of an introductory conversation wouldn't do.

To the Doctor, her thoughts felt...sore...around the edges, as if she were operating under some sort of exquisitely nasty psychic injury.

Orrie came bumbling over again and yapped, bouncing in a small circle, in case Mara had missed the whole THERE ARE NEW PEOPLE HERE!!! dance she'd done before. Then she went to bother Rose again.

/I wonder how many people there are here./

[Faith] Game On (tag Tara, transceiver team)

Date: 2006-04-13 11:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
The sound of her name put Faith completely on guard. She shifted from casually relaxed to dangerously alert in less time than it took to blink eyes. She felt her shoulders tense, the Slayer Power stirring and rising a bit, sniffing the air for blood and danger.

Her gaze narrowed and slid to the source of the voice, taking in the unsure blonde with the cool study of a predator. Long blonde hair, usnure and shy and vaguely familiar, although Faith was hard pressed to remember how or why . . .

"This is Tara."

"So Willow's not driving stick anymore."

"Spit it out already."


Faith blinked, the Slayer Predator slipping back into its cage, leaving Faith empty and vulnerable in front of a group of strangers. She quashed the vulnerability as soon as it appeared, cool mask of aloofness and control sliding in place even as her mind whirled.

(Not my best moment, not me, not her, not anymore.)

"Willow's girl," Faith said with a smile, not the threatening, salacious smile that made some of the toughest mothers in lockup back away from her, but with her friendly smile, the one she'd used from time to time in Sunnyhell before her world and hatred had twisted it all around.

Recognition brought both hope and worry. If Willow's girl was here, then maybe Red was as well. Red and B and G-Man, and as much as her heart skipped because that would mean rescue, it clenched because it would mean facing her past and she wasn't sure she could do that yet.

"It's easy on the inside," Angel reminded her more than once.

The pounding of her heart in her ears and the desperate war she waged against the urge to flee spoke the truth of that assessment.

"Yo, Tara, 'sup? The rest of the Scoobies here too?"

Faith wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be.

Worse yet, she was already wondering how and why the fuck they would be here in the Backass End of the Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Pacific Ocean.

[Tara] Game On (tag Faith, transceiver team)

Date: 2006-04-13 11:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tenebraeli.livejournal.com
It was so damn unreal, to see Faith -- *here* -- of all places, that Tara had to take a moment to process what the girl actually said. Then she put it all together, the fleeting look of worry and hope, the outward show of complete toughness, but underlying that was a degree of friendliness she'd never seen before. A true smile, that went to the eyes and beyond.

Shaking her head, she replied, "No, it's just... well it's just us now... I mean it's us and about fifty other survivors from the plane crash, and there's so many horrible things here, and now there's you..." she trailed off, out of breath, eyes stinging with tears. Seeing *anyone* from her old life was just too much for her, and before Faith could back off, she darted forward and hugged her, saying very softly, "I'm so glad you're here."

[Ash] See? See! (tag Rose, transceiver team)

Date: 2006-04-14 12:31 am (UTC)
ext_12572: (Ash S-Mart)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
The brunette strutted around like Queen of the Island. She was hot, no question, but she had a boatload of attitude too. And the chops to back it up, if Ash was any judge of such things. He'd watched her eyes when she looked everyone over on her arrival. She'd seen things. Done things. Had the t-shirt--or, in this case, the tank top. Which she filled out very nicely, thank you.

Her friend looked like she'd seen a few things too. But while Faith had the look of a...participant, her friend looked like a survivor. She looked haunted. Ash knew that look. He'd seen it in the mirror a few times over the years. Whatever she'd endured, Ash was willing to bet it hadn't happened all that long ago.

Ash looked at Rose and caught her eye. "See?" he said without preamble. "This is exactly what I was talking about! We walk a few hours from camp and we stumble across still more castaways!"

[Mara] Skepticism (everone :))

Date: 2006-04-14 12:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarred-muse.livejournal.com
Mara sat quietly; all the chattering and emotions bubbling around her made it hard for her to think. There was an introduction she tried to pay attention to, offering her shy smile to each in turn. When the puppy wandered back to her, she hugged her and buried her nose in its fur and tried to lose herself in puppy-happiness for a little.

"There were two planes," she said quietly. A line appeared in her forehead when two of the men started going on about leaving. Leaving? Wait, these strangers just came out of the jungle and were expecting her and Faith to just walk off with them like that? Into the jungle? With the sun going down?

"I just met you," she said uncomfortably. "I'm not running off into that place with a bunch of strangers on their say-so with night coming. I'm sorry. That's asking way too much."

[McKay] Skepticism (everone :))

Date: 2006-04-14 01:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com
McKay looked at Rose with a look that plainly expressed his thoughts. Give me a break. Still, he agreed with the Doctor on this one-- to a point.

"Wait-wait-wait... Giving them a map to the campsite? But-but..." A pile of 'what-if's ran through his mind, a million of reasons why it wasn't a good idea. Of course, it certainly wasn't a good idea to bring them along, either. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. They wouldn't get there until night, and-and-and..."

Wait. That's right. The woods. At night. His shoulders drooped, though that particular action caused a bit more discomfort that he was prepared for, and a hand moved around his chest as he turned his back towards the general group. Ow. "Can... we please just hurry up and go meet our fate in there rather than prolonging it?"

[Ash] Skepticism (everone)

Date: 2006-04-14 01:36 am (UTC)
ext_12572: (Ashley J. "Ash" Williams)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"It's my rugged good looks, no doubt about it," Ash said. "Drop me on a deserted island in the middle of the damn Pacific and the gals still find me. It's a curse." He struck a noble pose. "But I do my best to bear up."

[Faith] WTFHUGS? (tag Tara, transceiver team)

Date: 2006-04-14 01:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
"Um, ok, yeah, sure, you too," Faith awkwardly patted Tara on the back, surprised and amazed by the reception. She kinda figured that B and Red would have been all over painting the nastiest picture possible of her. Not to mention that her entire involvement and interaction with Tara had pretty much been limited to trying steal B's life via her hijacked body.

(Then again, maybe G-Man has been getting regular reports on me. Faith doesn't step out of line, model prisoner, does really well on the knitting.)

Touchy-feely wasn't really her thing, especially when she didn't know the person in question all that well and there was going to be any dirty grinding involved with the touchy-feeliness. Of course, Red's girl -

(Whoa.)

Questions cropped up and as Tara finally released her, ducking her head and blushing pink a bit, Faith launched them. "You were on a plane that crashed here? Was B and G-Man ... Dawnie?"

Faith was terrified of facing her past, but even worse was the thought of all those people she knew, that she formed attachments to, however bad, were dead and gone. B again, and Dawnie ...
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