[identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] crossing_lostrp
“This really would make a great resort spot,” Megabyte decided, tossing a broken shell into the waves. “You know, once you get past the creepy telepathic Neanderthals, telepathic smoke clouds and the still ever elusive probably biomechanical T-Rex.”

Walking beside him, Ami gave a laugh. “You advertise them as ‘attractions.’ Survivalist types would kill for the opportunity to be here. Pardon the pun.”

It was early morning and a majority of the camp slept. Megabyte had, in fact, been awakened by Ami far earlier than he would have liked. He told her as much, but any attempts to go back to sleep had been thrawted by Hurley’s sleep-talking and irregular snoring. So, in the end, Megabyte grabbed his swim trunks and joined Ami, curious about what was so urgent she had to wake him at The Crack of Doom.

She’d told him. All the little weird bits and things that she hadn’t shared with him before – starting with the Frenchwoman’s, Danielle’s, repeating distress signal. That had earned her some scorn and harsh words, but in the end he apologized, recognizing that he probably would have done the same in her shoes and it would have been to protect her. In exchange he told her about ‘porting Tommy and Emerson away from the Smoke Monster and how Locke learned that he was telepathic and able to teleport.

“Rose knows too,” Ami told him.

“Yeah, and so does The Doctor.” He scowled when he said ‘The Doctor.’

Ami shook her head. “No, The Doctor knows we’re telepathic. Rose knows about The Tomorrow People.”

“She didn’t tell him?”

“It’s not her secret to tell, so she hasn’t,” Ami said with a grin. “I think she likes knowing something that he doesn’t know, so I’ve been working on keeping it secret as long as possible.”

She confessed to her telekinetic demonstration for George, which prompted Megabyte's admission of telling George he was 'empathic.' That in turn led to explanations of *why* he'd had to explain and a good deal of teasing on his part and blushing on hers. From that point, the conversation naturally segued into talking about Scott, and as Ami had expected, Megabyte was completely non-pulsed by the whole half-alien bit. She hesitated before telling him that part, but in the end decided that the only way to really explain everything to Megabyte was to explain everything to Megabyte.

/Scott’s had some bad experiences with the Air Force and a government agency called the FSA. He didn’t – he couldn’t – trust you because of the fact that you work for WorldEx./ Ami held up a hand to stave off his objections, /He’s relented now or I couldn’t have talked to you about any of this. But you have to understand, Scott’s paranoia makes you look laid back when it comes to being cautious.

/And he doesn’t like you./

Megabyte shrugged. /Yeah, I got that loud and clear./

/It’s not as though you like him very much at all either,/ Ami pointed out. /Which is a complete and total pain in my arse. My best friend and my boyfriend hate each other./

/We got off on the wrong foot, which might not have happened if I’d know all this other stuff about him./ Off of Ami’s look, he sighed. /Ok, maybe the whole jealousy thing would still have caused plenty of problems, but knowing that there was some sort of weird telepathic mumbo jumbo going on? Would have helped a lot./

“I know,” Ami whispered quietly. “And I did want to tell you. I never wanted to keep you intentionally in the dark, Megabyte.” She reached out and took his hand, /You do understand that I hated hurting you like that? That if there had been *any other* way, I would have taken it in a heartbeat?/

/I know./ Megabyte gave her hand a squeeze and then pulled her to him in a tight, friendly and completely platonic hug. /Water under the bridge, now okay?/

Hugging him back, Ami smiled. For the first time in days, she truly felt like her friendship with Megabyte was back where it needed to be. After a moment, she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and stepped back, catching his gaze. /There is a wee bit more./

Megabyte sighed. “There always is.”

"We're going to be stuck here for at least six months."

Megabyte didn't ask how she knew that, maybe he assumed that she had gained some precognitive knowledge of everything. He raked his fingers through his hair, "Gonna miss your birthday and Christmas."
ext_12572: (George Calm)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"Heh," George said, feeling the no doubt dopey grin spread across her face at the sight of Carlos. She waved to him. "Well of course he can't," George said to Ami. "Am I not gorgeous?"

Then she looked at Ami and got serious again. "Locke and Tommy and Carlos know about me and--about me." George glanced at Carlos again and smiled. "Locke and Tommy have seen enough to convince them, but I'm not sure Carlos believes me. He only knows what I told him."

"I think you're right about telling Daniel. As far as I can tell, everybody on this fucking island has a deep, dark secret--but whoever dumped us here knows all about all of them. I don't think we're doing ourselves any favors by keeping secrets from each other."
ext_12572: (George Calm)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
Ami had a point, actually. "Yeah, Rube would pitch a fit if he knew anyone knew about me. I don't even want to think about what he'd say if he knew I told anyone. Rube's my boss," George added, noticing Ami's confused expression.

"The thing is," she continued, "the wrong people already know about us. All of us. We're all here for a reason--and they killed almost three hundred people to do it! So the only people we're probably keeping in the dark is each other. The bad guys already know all about us."

Ami didn't look convinced, though. "So...maybe we don't tell everybody, or we don't everybody everything, but the more of us who know the score, the better."
ext_12572: (George Calm)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"Willing," George admitted. "Not jumping-for-joy excited about it, but willing." She sighed. "See, the reason I decided to tell you is because They have a Reaper of their own. The other night when they attacked our camp, I tried to question one of the dead guys and she came running to kick my ass. She was like, 'Mine! Mine!'"

"You know those prisoners Daniel released after Tara put the whammy on 'em? That was a better idea than they know--it's not like killing them would have kept them quiet. She could have talked to them, learned everything they found out. And that's not even the worst she could do."

"So...yeah. Keeping secrets is so not the best plan."
ext_12572: (George Calm)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"Oh...that," George said. She wasn't eager to talk about her death, but it was a reasonable question. "I was walking around downtown Seattle one day eating a burrito. I was on my lunch break from work. This weird guy asked me what time it was, so I told him. Then he asked me my name."

George stared into the distance, seeing the events of that day again. "He told me to hurry because I was gonna be late. When I turned to walk away, he stroked my hair. A minute later I looked up and saw something come roaring out of the sky straight at me. I had just enough time to think, 'Oh shit.'"

"The next thing I know, I'm standing there in the middle of chaos, watching people running and shouting and bleeding. One guy ran right through me. I couldn't believe it, and I kept saying so over and over again until Rube told me, 'This is as real as it gets, little girl. You're dead.'"

George stared out at the sea for a minute, one hand idly rubbing her other arm. Then she looked at Ami again and gave her half-hearted smile. "I spent three days as a ghost. I got to see my own autopsy, and my funeral. Afterward I asked Rube what happened next."

"That's when he told me I was going to be a Grim Reaper. 'No pearly gates for you. No choirs of angels, neither.' I thought he was sending me to hell, but he said, 'Don't flatter yourself, you're not that interesting.'"
ext_12572: (George Smiling)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
"Pretty much," George said. "One of the perks of being a Reaper--that which does not kill you just hurts a fucking lot. But you get better in a hurry. And you can drink all the tequila you want without getting a hangover."

"If, you know, we had any tequila."

"And Rube's not really so bad. He has a hard job, and I didn't make it easy for him. I wasn't happy about being dead, or being drafted to replace the guy who reaped me, or--anything, really. I was a real pain in the ass."

George paused, surprised by her reaction. When had she mellowed so much? Maybe about the same time Rube had, she supposed. Something had happened to him not long before he sent her and Daisy to Australia. He'd become a lot more relaxed, less rigid in his views on how his Reapers should behave.

Working with him had become almost...comfortable toward the end.

[Carlos] Excalibonk! (tag Ami, George, open)

Date: 2006-04-21 08:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
It was finally done, and George and Ami were /still/ talking intensely. /Yeah. In trouble. Definitely in trouble. Still...no putting it off now./

He stuck the other, untrimmed, uncarved walking sticks up in a tree to cure and bleed out their sap, and grabbed the fresh-peeled, sap-smelling one he had just finished carving up for George.

It wasn't bad. It had a spiral grip, a fat knob on the top, and two mottoes: "Sweet Reason" on the one side, and on the other, in teeny letters: "If you can read this, bright boy, you were standing too fucking close." He walked away from the fireside and swung it experimentally a few times. They'd have to stick it up in a tree for a week before it was properly dried, but they'd be practicing with bamboo anyway.

He headed over there, steeling himself for a teasing question or two. "Hey!" he called, waving and holding up the walking stick. "Excalibonk's done!"

[George] Excalibonk! (tag Ami, Carlos, open)

Date: 2006-04-22 01:18 am (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Smiling)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
George laughed. "Excalibonk?" She reached for the walking stick and hefted it. It wasn't as heavy as she'd expected, though plenty solid. But you wouldn't want something really heavy--it'd be a pain in the ass to carry with you all the time.

She grinned at Carlos when she saw Sweet Reason carved into one side of the stick. "Cool! Thanks!"

"Check out the other side," Carlos said. George turned the stick and read the tiny print, marveling at how he'd carved it so carefully. "Heh." Then she grabbed the stiff by one end like a bat and waved it menacingly. "'Bonk, bonk, bad grup!'"

At the confused looks she got from Ami and Carlos, George said, "Star Trek? Captain Kirk versus the three hundred year-old teenage delinquents? Hello? Buehler? Am I the only one here who wasted her life watching tv?" She sighed dramatically. "These kids today...."

[Carlos] Excalibonk! (tag George, Ami, open)

Date: 2006-04-22 06:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
Hey, she liked it. Cool. "We'll have to dry it, but we gotta practice with bamboo and rattan anyway. I don't want to get smacked with that thing!" He ducked theatrically as she waved the staff at him. "Ack! Mercy! I arm her and she goes nuts!"

He chuckled. "Actually I do sci-fi, but it's mostly books and movies. My big thing now since I learned Japanese is, big surprise, anime. Last year it was Russian animation."

"How many languages do you know?" Ami asked.

Carlos furrowed his brow. "Uh...seven now? Four from my job. Ex-job." Surprising vehemence in the correction. He felt her looking at him and fidgeted slightly.

It was easier to be around Ami now that he knew he could do the usual trick that he pulled whenever he was attracted to someone inappropriate. He took that sexual charge home to whoever he was dating and took it right out on her. Carlos was plenty attracted to George without that, of course, but he still had this feeling she wouldn't mind if he paid her even more attention. And he really wanted to be friends with Ami--and her sweetie, provided the guy could deal with him. Having a way of coping really did a lot to take away the awkwardness.

"The original Star Trek had a lot of funky, imaginative stuff, but it was campy and testosterone-fueled in the not-so-good way. I liked Next Generation because it wasn't so lowest-common-denominator, and they gave some pretty damn good actors a chance to show their chops. Plus it had Data and Worf. I mean, c'mon. That's my Saturday night poker group right there."

"The android and the big scary combat-alien?" George looked amused.

Carlos shrugged and grinned. "Imagine the conversations!"

"Yeah, but poker with Klingons sounds as adviseable as chess with Wookiees."

Carlos paused. /Geeze, she hasn't gotten the adrenaline junkie bit./ "Um, George, sweetheart? You're talking to a guy whose last day on the job involved jumping upside-down on a zipline out of a helicopter." /With an automatic in each fist. Gunning down zombies on a rooftop./

Two sets of eyes blinked at him, and he looked a bit sheepish. "Uh...heh. Nevermind?"

Ami's reassurance made him squirm appropriately. /I'm in trouble./

Carlos spoke up again at the protection idea. "I'm supplying Blaise's class with a bunch of these and bamboo practice staves. I'll make one for whoever wants--Ami, let me know; they're useful even if you're not breaking heads with them. I'm kinda liking working with my hands, though I'm just starting to learn what I'm doing."

[George] Excalibonk! (tag Carlos, Ami, open)

Date: 2006-04-22 11:46 pm (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Smiling)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
(Seven languages?) George thought. Ami knew at least a couple--she could speak to Sun. There were a few others too. And then there was Dr. Jackson, who was a latter-day Sir Richard Burton according to the grapevine. George felt a little inadequate--the classic monolingual American.

The conversation rolled on, Carlos expounding in the differences between Star Trek series. George's comment prompted Carlos to describe his last job, and the left George staring at him in surprise. (Jumping out of a helicopter upside down on a zipline?)

That reminded her of what he'd told her--was it only two days ago? Of fighting zombies in Raccoon City. Which was also his last job, from what she recalled. So...he'd been diving headfirst into a city full of flesh-eating zombies. (Holy shit, my boyfriend's a superhero!)

George watched him, aware that he was talking but not paying a lot of attention at the moment. She really had a boyfriend. And what a boyfriend! She was swamped by vivid memories of yesterday's lovemaking and a sudden desire to repeat the experience.

"You know exactly what you're doing with your hands," George argued, catching the last few words Carlos spoke.

[George] Did I Say That? (tag Carlos, Ami, open)

Date: 2006-04-23 01:53 am (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Shocked)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
(Too much information? What?) George mentally reviewed the last few moments to figure out what Ami was talking-- "Oh," she said. (Talk about your Freudian slips.) She briefly tried to think of a way to salvage the situation but came up empty.

(The hell with it,) George decided after a moment. (It's not like we don't all know what I meant. Or like everybody isn't going to know about Carlos and me very soon. Screw it!) "Yeah, well, you know," she said with a grin at Ami. She reached over and caught Carlos' hand in hers.

"You should," George said. "Take the class, I mean. It can't hurt, right?" Though honestly, George wasn't sure how useful it would be to Ami. If she could really just teleport away from trouble, maybe she didn't need self-defense lessons. But she didn't know how it worked, or how easy or difficult it might be.

Ami was the best judge of whether she needed self-defense lesson, George figured. She was smart. She'd figure out the right thing to do. "I'm gonna do it," George said. "Between Blaise's class and some tutoring from Carlos, I'll be a lean, mean fighting machine."

[Carlos] Excalibonk! (tag George, Ami, open)

Date: 2006-04-23 07:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
"Uh--" Carlos was glad that he hadn't been drinking something at that moment, or the resulting spray would have hit someone back in Brazil. /There go my ears again./

He loved the way George was looking at him, and the tone in her voice, but--damn. Present company made that--er um--heh..../Dammit, I'm being ganged up on!/ He laughed a little.

"Guess it depends on the activity, then," he managed fairly cheerily, giving George a wink. /I'm getting you for that later. And not much later, either./ "But making things, I'm new at. I'd kill for some proper tools, honestly."

Sheepish look. "Uh. Not literally, promise."

[Carlos] Making an Exit (tag George, Ami, open)

Date: 2006-04-24 01:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
"Wanted at the cookfi--" Oh. There went his ears again. /Heh./ The look from Ami was reassuring, and he smiled faintly at her. /All this stuff is workable. Awkward, yeah, but workable./

At Ami's admonition, he slipped an arm around George, turned his smile on her and said, "Hey, I'll do my best."

He chuckled as Ami walked away. "I just gotta expect that kind of stuff, I guess. Even in the middle of weirdness central. Though for the record, it's not just girls that get protective of their friends that way."

A pair of Barbie lookalikes walked past and gave him a come-hither look that completely ignored George's presence and his arm around her. He blinked, puzzled. /Naw, they didn't--/ One of them winked. /Jesus, that's rude./

He responded to this by leaning over to give George a proper kiss hello. One of the girls made a small squeak of indignation and he smirked against her lips. "So how are you doing?" he asked as they broke.


[George] Making an Exit (tag Carlos, open)

Date: 2006-04-24 01:54 am (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Bite Me!)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
George wiggled her fingers in a goodbye as Ami gave her one last knowing look and then headed off toward the cookfire. It was nice to have a girlfriend to share things with. They hadn't had a chance to get into the kind of no-holds-barred post-game analysis that Daisy enjoyed. George wasn't sure whether Ami was interested in that level of intimacy. Hell, she wasn't sure she was.

On the other hand, sometimes thinking back on it, she thought she would burst if she couldn't share her excitement and enthusiasm with someone. Ami's warning to Carlos made her feel good, too.

Carlos said it wasn't just girls who got protective of their friends. George smiled at him. "So who do I need to watch out for, then?"

Before he could answer George saw Amanda and Zoe walk past and give Carlos a blatant once-over. George frowned at them. Then Amanda gave Carlos a wink. George bristled at her behavior, but before she could say anything Carlos turned and gave her a very enthusiastic kiss.

It took George by surprise, but she was thrilled by his reaction to the would-be sirens. She kissed him back as thoroughly as she could manage and was happy to hear one of them squeak unhappily.

"So how are you doing?" Carlos asked when they came up for air.

George leaned back, keeping her arms around Carlos' shoulders and let the excitement and lust Carlos provoked in her show on her face. "I'm good," she said. She turned her head lazily to look directly at Amanda and added, "Yeah, you wish, bitch."

[Carlos] Making an Exit (tag George, open)

Date: 2006-04-24 07:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
Carlos chuckled a little when George asked who she needed to watch out for. "Just my aunt, and she'll mostly be nagging me to make sure I treat you right. Kinda typical of her."

He didn't even bother acknowledging the pair of women. He'd never understood the vicious levels of sexual competition that some women got into just because they could. It annoyed him for George's sake, and for the presumption that he was essentially a pair of eyes attached to a sex drive.

George's flat statement to Amanda made him immediately have to hide a snickering fit in her hair. "We're both evil. You realize that, right?"

[George] Making an Exit (tag Carlos, open)

Date: 2006-04-24 09:52 pm (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Smiling)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
George watched Amanda stalk off in a huff. Zoe's scowl broke up and she looked like she was trying not to laugh. She gave George and Carlos a final glance and then followed Amanda.

George shifted her gaze to Carlos. "Of course," she said. "That's what makes it so perfect."

She looked around. "So--now what, kemo sabe?" George glanced down at Sweet Reason, lying in the sand where she'd dropped it when Carlos kissed her. "Skullcracking and Manhandling 101?"

[Carlos] Head-thwackin' 101 (tag George, open)

Date: 2006-04-25 07:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com
"Hm." He looked around. "Not too horribly hot yet. Yeah, sure, but let's find some shade."

The stand of mangroves nearest was way too muddy, so they settled for a couple of coconut palms nearish the bower that had been kitted out like a birthday cake the day Carlos arrived. Carlos knew she'd have to get used to the weight of the staff, so he laid the bamboo aside and showed her a few basic moves to practice. "You basically go pick up Stick at least twice a day, every day, extra when you're frustrated or pissed off. You go through these motions over and over again, and they get into your muscles. It becomes like a moving meditation after a while."

"These are all blocks?" George guessed, accurately.

"Yup. Absolute first thing you want to get into your reflexes. That and how to fall, but that's for another day.

"The thing about cane-fighting is, it's versatile. Most people who don't know much about how to fight with a length of wood want to grab it by one end and swing it like a baseball bat, but the problem is, that's tiring and slow. You have to grab it, bring it all the way up, bring it all the way around and hope your target doesn't rush you in the meantime.

"Better to be sneaky. LIke, for example, grabbing your stick-o-doom in both hands, arms shoulder width, and--" he demonstrated blocking blows from all sides. "Now, some guy tries to rush you from behind, you don't have to change your grip and swing on him. Just turn around and give him a hard tap in the solar plexus with the end. You'll have the whole force of your body pivoting behind it, and it's a lot faster than the club approach."

"So what happens if someone grabs the stick?"

Carlos grinned. "Then you let them hang onto it while you beat them with one leg, your free hand and whatever else is handy. Don't waste time struggling over a length of wood. You hit them hard enough and they'll let it go anyway."

OOC comment

Date: 2006-04-25 02:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Cool! Cane-fighting sounds like an excellent skill for the non-fighter types. I can imagine several of the people in camp sparring for practice, blowing off steam, and just for the fun of it. Will Carlos hold lessons for everyone?

Re: OOC comment

From: [identity profile] undead-shot.livejournal.com - Date: 2006-04-25 04:24 pm (UTC) - Expand

[George] Head-thwackin' 101 (tag Carlos, open)

Date: 2006-04-25 09:48 pm (UTC)
ext_12572: (George Calm)
From: [identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com
George took the stick in both hands as Carlos had shown her and practiced the moves he'd shown her. It felt kind of awkward, and he was right that her first inclination was to hold the stick like a bat and swing it. Holding it the way Carlos showed her worked better.

She flailed at empty air with the stick for a minute before Carlos corrected her. He stepped up close behind her and put his hands on her hips. "Don't use your arms so much," he told her. "That will tire you out very quickly. Use your hips."

He leaned in close, adding, "I know you know how to do that, sweetheart." Then he was all business again. "Twist at the hips, turn your whole torso. That will generate a lot more power than using just your arms."

George worked at that for a few minutes before Carlos had her stand in front of one of the trees. "Try hitting the tree now," he said.

The lesson continued for a while. Carlos continued to correct her form, sometimes verbally, sometimes by touch. He threw in compliments or innuendo quite frequently; George enjoyed them, but by the end of the lesson she had begun to suspect that he meant them but he also used them to keep her entertained and paying attention. If so, it worked.

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