crossing_lostrp | [NPCs] Skipped Time: Day 8: Trouble Brewing (open tag)

Amanda stomped away, casting angry glances over her shoulder at George & Carlos periodically.

She wasn't happy with Zoe, either. She couldn't believe Zoe had thought it was funny when George kissed Carlos and then told her, "Yeah, you wish, bitch!" She stalked across camp and toward the stream mostly just to be moving.

"Amanda--hey!"

She stopped. Harry and Charlie were sitting near the treeline, out of sight of most of the camp. Harry waved at her. "Come join us," he said. Amanda hesitated, then thought, (Why the hell not?) and walked over. She smoothed out the skirt she was wearing and settled down on the ground with the two guys. "What's up?"

Charlie and Harry exchanged glances. Charlie looked awfully ragged. Amanda was pretty sure he was suffering withdrawal from something; she'd seen enough of that sort of thing in her brief career to recognize it. She shrugged. Not her problem, as long as he didn't bother her with it. Harry's dapper rich-boy look had suffered some in the last week, but he still looked good. He wasn't leaving eyetracks all over her legs and tits either, Amanda noticed.

"We're just talking," Charlie said. "Talking, talking."

"Venting a little," Harry chimed in. "There are some definite cliques in our little community. I'm sure you've noticed," he added.

"Damn right," Amanda said.

She sat quietly as Harry and Charlie described some of the injustices they've endured of late. Frankly, she tuned out Charlie's petulant ranting about House and Pierson bogarting the drugs. Typical junkie self-pity. She'd seen enough to know that House was dealing with the same problem, only--to judge by the way he frequently massaged his bad leg and once even seemed near to tears when he thought nobody was around--with a hell of a lot more excuse than Charlie.

Harry caught her attention when he mentioned that he'd been talking to Ethan. Amanda glanced at him, saying, "But Ethan's--"

"Ethan's what?" Harry shot back. "A creep? A stalker? Is that what you heard?"

Amanda flushed a little, but nodded stubbornly. "Yeah."

Harry shook his head a little sadly, as if disappointed in her. "Yes, I'm sure that's what you heard. But has he done anything to you? Harassed you? Stalked you? Stalked your friends?"

"Well...no," Amanda admitted.

"Right," Harry said. "So who has Ethan allegedly stalked? Let's see--Daisy. George. Claire. Ami, I think..." Harry met Amanda's eyes, as if waiting for her to connect the dots. "All the women who are close to the inner circle."

"Ethan told me about it. He tried to join their little clique, tried to 'sit at the grown ups' table,' as he put it. They weren't interested. He pushed a little. So they started spreading the rumor that he was a creepy stalker. Now nobody will talk to him. They've effectively isolated him, and made sure he can't possibly mount any effective opposition to whatever they decide they want to do."

Amanda gaped at Harry, shocked by his revelation. It didn't sound like the story she'd heard, but...it was all too plausible. That tightly-knit little group clearly had their secrets, secrets they weren't sharing. They took control early on, and while Amanda was realist enough to know that someone had to, they certainly hadn't been subtle about it, or much interested in sharing it.

Her gaze drifted involuntarily back toward the camp. She could just see George flirting with Carlos under the pretense of being taught how to fight with a stick. That reminded her of her own complaints about how things had shaken out. "I can't believe he's sleeping with her!"

"Wha--?" Charlie leaned over to follow her look. "George? Sleeping with Carlos?"

Harry didn't bother to turn and look. A shuttered look filled his eyes. "Doesn't surprise me," he said. "She's part of the inner circle, isn't she? She and her friend Daisy hang around with our self-appointed leaders, don't they? Jackson, that Marine, Locke, Agent Starling, the Brits, even that fucking teenager who acts like he's in charge when he's barely even old enough to vote."

Harry shrugged. "Carlos shows up after they've made themselves the chiefs. The rest of us are just the indians. He's smart enough to see how things are. So he seduces little Georgie, scores some quick and easy ass, and finds his way into the inner circle. Smart."

Amanda glared at George, listening to Harry. She nodded slowly. It made sense. It explained why Carlos would choose a girl like George over her. Politics. George was his ticket to the inner circle. Well, two could play at that game.

She looked at Charlie, then at Harry. "So," she said, "are we just gonna complain to each other about it? Or what?"

OOC: Don't mind me. I'm just stirring the pot...

Current Mood: jealous

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From:

fikgirl.livejournal.com

“What are you complaining about now, Amanda?” Shannon asked, strolling casually up to the group. She frowned upon realizing that it was the annoying limey and Harry keeping company with Shannon. She’d actually been hoping for someone interesting, but then she realized that they were fast running out of interesting people on the beach. Shannon realized that she hadn’t been invited to join their little soiree, but social niceties like that never stopped her before.

“We’re not complaining,” Harry corrected her, his attitude and stance devoid of his usual lechery. “We are discussing the politics of our humble island.”

“What politics?” Shannon spread the blanket she was carrying onto the sand in a prime location for direct sunlight and proceeded to sit down, rummaging in her bag for sunblock. “Everyone does whatever the hell they want and if someone doesn’t it like, they whine and complain and everyone else gangs up on you. Or treat you like you’re a complete idiot.”

Shannon was referring back to Claire and Damon’s joke, but she didn’t specify that. She hadn’t seen the humor in it, because really, look at the Aussie, all knocked up and clowning around with that guy like that. Claire really should know better; and Damon, she hadn’t figured out his game yet, always coming around and hanging around Claire. He was cute – in that sort of way that only geeks could be – and not her type, but she’d heard that he was smart and that he came from money. It made him worth keeping an eye on, but not if he was going all protective for the cheap, pregnant girl.

(Well I guess we all know she’s easy. The evidence is about eight months old.)

“Let me guess,” Harry said, “Your roommate situation not working out so well?”

“You should move in with me,” Amanda suggested. “It has to better than living with that know it all little kid, that interfering old bitty and preggers. I mean, really, what are you going to do if she delivers while we’re here? You’ll be sharing your tent with an annoying little baby. And they cry. All. Night. Long.”

Shannon considered Amanda’s words. “Claire was nice when we first got here. Now she’s getting annoying. Always with the Shannon wake up, or Shannon aren’t you going to do anything today? What’s it to her exactly? At least I know how to spell birth control.”

“She moved on,” Harry informed Shannon. “She ‘outgrew’ you, Shan. That’s why she’s become a bitch.”

“Oi! Claire’s not that bad,” Charlie protested.

“Like she’s not always ordering you around? Telling you what to do?” Shannon challenged.

“It’s the hormones,” Charlie argued. “She’s due soon, y’know?”

“It’s not the hormones, Charlie,” Harry said smoothly. “Claire moved into the inner circle. Little helpless pregnant girl that everyone wants to take care of. She’s part of ‘them’ now, and that means she doesn’t have any room for you, Shannon. Or you either, Charlie.”

“Inner circle? What the hell are you talking about now, Harry?”

From:

sinanju.livejournal.com

Harry smiled to himself. Amanda was easy to manipulate. Her ego and her fixation on Carlos were painfully obvious buttons. But she was nonetheless a hell of a lot smarter than Shannon. A couple of hints were all she needed to draw the intended conclusion on her own. Shannon would need to have the picture drawn for her.

"C'mon, Shannon," Harry said cheerfully. "Surely you've noticed how Dr. Jackson and his cronies have made themselves the stars of our little island community? Jackson, Blaise, Locke, Starling, the Brits, Murphy?" Harry put just the right challenging note in his voice.

"Oh," Shannon said, with withering contempt. "Them." As if she'd paid enough attention to notice. Harry knew that Shannon's world consisted of Shannon, people who catered to her whims--and everyone else.

"Yes, them," Harry said with a sly wink to Amanda, suggesting that they both knew Shannon was blowing smoke. Then he laboriously spelled out for Shannon what he'd allowed Amanda to work out for herself. She reacted exactly as Ethan had said she would, shocked and appalled--though mostly at the idea that someone else was usurping her rightful place at the top of the social pyramid.

Ethan's advice had been invaluable. His stutter was an annoying tic, but he was amazingly good at reading people. He reminded Harry of his mother that way, though unlike his mother Ethan recognized Harry's talents. That's why he'd sought Harry out after the smear campaign had begun.

There was little or no hope of rehabilitating his own reputation, Ethan had told Harry. Ethan was angry about that, but Jackson and his cronies still needed to be challenged and that was more important. So he asked Harry to work with him. Working together, with Harry as the public face of their two-man team, they'd quietly organize the discontent majority and eventually force Jackson's crowd into dealing with everyone as equals.

(Or usurp their position and let them be the whipping boys for a change,) Harry thought. He hadn't shared that notion with Ethan. If Ethan thought Harry wasn't aware that Ethan was using him, he had another think coming. In that regard, Ethan was just like Harry's mother, still underestimating him. In the mean time, though, Harry was willing to work with Ethan toward their mutual goal.

Harry continued feeding Shannon, Amanda and Charlie the talking points he and Ethan had hammered out. He had to work at not leering at Amanda and Shannon, but Ethan was right about that too. This island wasn't New York or London, or even Sydney. He couldn't treat them like disposable shopgirls he'd never see again. Not if he had any hope of getting laid again in the foreseeable future.

'Again' being the operative word. He'd had Lucy two nights ago, though now of course she acted like he didn't exist. Harry didn't know what Ethan had said or done to arrange it. He'd asked, but Ethan had simply told him, "She's on our side now," and nothing more.

Harry wasn't sure she wanted to be, but beggars can't be choosers. He knew enough not to ask her either. Plausible deniability was all. So when she turned up by the swimming hole after dark--as promised--and began undressing without a word, Harry made good use of her.

"What're you smiling at?" Amanda demanded.

"Just thinking about how we could change things around here if we work together," Harry said.

From:

fikgirl.livejournal.com

Sawyer dropped his bag of yams off at the food stores, earning a surprised look from Sun and a nod and a smile from Mama Rose. "Gotta do something to earn my keep, eh, Sunshine?" Sawyer drawled to the Korean woman, although he knew that she didn't understand a word that he said. "Just don't tell anyone, Miss Rose and I got our own little secret here."

"I've said it once, I'll say it again, Sawyer, you don't have to be an ass simply because you can. Might find that you would like some of the people here, and they might would like you, if you'd cut back a bit."

"I like me and that's just fine," Sawyer responded, then headed back towards his shelter. He was distracted however, by the small knot gathered in the shade of one of the trees. Well, three of the four were gathered, Shannon was stretched out on a blanket, applying sunscreen to her body. He would have kept walking - those four weren't all that interesting to him on any level - but he noted the furtive glances that kept being tossed up the beach in varying directions and that got his attention.

Sauntering over, Sawyer gave them a semi-mocking smile, "What's this here? We got ourselves a remedial class?"

"Good morning, Sawyer," Harry greeted him with an uncharacteristic lack of entitlement in his voice. "We were just talking. Didn't think that you would notice us enough to grace us with your presence."

Sawyer peered at Harry over the rims of his sunglasses. (Punk ass is trying to be smooth. Which piece of ass is shooting for? Barbie Doll or Pop Tart?) "Well, I saw this little party going on and couldn't help but want to crash it."

"We're not having a party. If we were, you'd be invited." The Pop Tart gave him a smile, flicking hair over one shoulder and toying with her necklace. (Not my type, little girlie. Although it might be worth liberating that necklace off you when we get rescued. Just because I can.)

The look Rich Boy tossed her told Sawyer how the punk felt about that assessment.

"Hey, Sawyer, you're not like good chums with Daniel and those guys are you?" Pop Tart asked.

"Can't say as that I am," Sawyer replied. "Why? You lookin' to get in good with Indiana and his posse? Trust me, you ain't missing anything."

"No, I don't want to hang around with them," Pop Tart said. "It's just that we were talking about how - well - how they're in charge of everything and it's not fair."

He saw Rich Boy glare briefly at her, then shift back to a neutral stance. (So, that's it, they're over here whining and complaining.)

Sawyer gave Pop Tart the most charming smile that he could, and ran his fingers along her cheek, "Life ain't fair sweetheart. You just gotta deal with it. If you don't like the status quo, change it."

Her smile lit her face as she leaned into that touch. Sawyer sighed inwardly, (See, you're just too easy, cupcake.)

"That's what Harry says we should do," Barbie Doll said. "Change things. We deserve respect. We deserve better."

Sawyer turned his attention to Rich Boy with the most curious smile he could manage, "Is that so, then? I'd love to hear all about this." Not really, he didn't, at least not in the way these idiots would think that he meant.

(However, it's always good to stay in the loop. That's how you know when to duck.)

From:

sinanju.livejournal.com

Harry worked to keep the frown off his face. He really didn't need this right now. Sawyer was about as far from being one of the inner circle as it was possible to be, but he was a wild card. Too smart to manipulate easily and enough of a gamesman to think that fucking with them just for sport was a fine way to amuse himself.

"There's not a lot to tell," Harry said. "We're just comparing notes, airing our grievances. Have a seat, join in if you like. Tell us what's on your mind," Harry offered, thinking, (Go away....)

From:

fikgirl.livejournal.com

"Nothing on my mind, Harry boy, nothing at all," Sawyer grinned. "I like that I get my own little patch of beach and everyone leaves me alone; and I do the same for them. That's as it should be.

"But I'll let y'all get back to your 'airing of grievances,'" Sawyer smirked. "Let me know when it comes up to committee."

Turning, Sawyer continued on his way, deciding he would keep an eye on that lot, just to make sure they were staying out of his way. Harry was up to no good; you didn't turn into a con-man of Sawyer's caliber without learning to spot those who were rotten apples.