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crossing_lostrpDaisy made her way toward George. It took a few minutes; being social was a fulltime job, and as everyone was drifting toward the cookfire as dinner time drew near, she had to greet and interact with quite a few people. Nonetheless she eventually reached her destination. George was oblivious, still basking in New Relationship Energy and wrapped up in Carlos.
Carlos noticed. He looked up just as Daisy said, "George, a word?"
"Later, Daisy," George said. She didn't even look up.
"Really, Georgia," Daisy said, a singsong note creeping into her voice. "A word."
George frowned at her. "Really, Daisy--later." Get lost George's eyes said.
Daisy smiled at Carlos. "Excuse us, Carlos. I really, really need to speak to Georgia," she said as she grabbed George's wrist. "Won't take a second." She pulled George to her feet.
Carlos looked ready to intervene but George rolled her eyes and sighed gustily. "Fine," she said petulantly. "I'll be back in a minute," she told Carlos. Daisy stalked off toward the waterline, George in tow.
"Jesus, Daisy! Ow! What the fuck is your problem?" Daisy ignored George's complaints until she reached the hide tide line. They were within sight of the camp but no one would be able to hear them over the surf. She turned to face George.
"You, George," she said. "You're my problem. What do you think you're doing?"
"Jeez, Daisy," George replied, massaging her wrist. "I'm talking to Carlos."
"I'm not talking about that," Daisy said. This was going to be a long conversation if George insisted on being deliberately obtuse. "What's this I hear about you telling people you're a Grim Reaper?"
George looked about to snap back, but Daisy was pleased to see her words take the wind out of George's sails. "Oh," George said quietly. "That."
"Yes--that! You can't do that, Georgia! What on earth possessed you to do it? And please, please tell me you haven't told everyone."
"Not...everyone," George admitted. "Just John. And...Ami. And Mara. And...Dr. Pierson and Quentin. Dr. Jackson, Blaise, Faith...I think that's all."
Daisy stared at George, horrified by the never-ending list. In a moment of uncomfortable clarity she suddenly realized how Rube must have felt on many occasions, facing with cleaning up the aftermath of her own colossal fuck-ups. How on earth had she wound up as the straw boss of their little two-person Reaper team?
"Shit, Georgia, that's--" Words failed her. "How could you?"
"What did you find in the Box of Many Things?" George asked, and Daisy blinked, confused by George's question. "A painting, wasn't it?" George continued.
"Yes," Daisy said. She tried to regain control of the conversation. "But that's not--"
"It was the painting that's supposed to be hanging in our living room, right?"
"Yes, but--"
George fixed her with a steely gaze. "You were the one who told me what you thought that box meant, remember? It meant we didn't just randomly wind up here. We were selected. They chose us. You remember telling me that?"
Daisy nodded, suddenly tired. She didn't want to be having this conversation any longer. Didn't want to think about the implications of the box. She'd successfully put it out of her mind for a couple of days.
"Do you remember what else you told me it meant?" George asked.
"Yes," Daisy said quietly. "They already know about us. All about us."
"Damn right," George said. "So the only people involved in this who don't know are the people on our side. And most of them, maybe all of them, have their own Deep, Dark Secrets. Well, I'm tired of it. There are too many fucking secrets on this goddamn island. If we're gonna get away from here, we have to stop spending all our time and energy keeping secrets from each other."
Daisy listened, marveling at George's fire. She was passionate and engaged. She'd always been passionate, but this focus was new. It suited her. George had grown up over the last two years. More than she had in many, many more years, Daisy thought, though she liked to think that she'd grown some in the last week.
"So I've told some people. I'll probably tell more. I haven't mentioned you and I won't, but--" George stopped talking when Daisy raised a hand.
"Okay, Georgia. You win. I'm not saying I think you're right, but...I'm not saying I think you're wrong either. I just don't know. Just...be sure, okay? This isn't something you can undo." Daisy paused, thinking, and then laughed.
"Well, that isn't necessarily true anymore, is it?" Tara's demonstrated ability to erase memories changed things, didn't it? And perhaps it also proved George's point. Knowing what Tara could do opened up possibilities they'd never have considered before.
George seemed to know what she was thinking. Daisy was relieved when George didn't jump on the point and rub her nose in it. She just smiled gently, apparently content to let Daisy work it out for herself. Daisy smiled back at George, shaking her head slowly.
"When did you get to be so smart?" she asked. She glanced back at camp, where Carlos was keeping a vigilant eye on them. "Go back to your lover," she said, stressing the last word and laughing delightedly when George blushed. "And remember that you still owe me some serious girl talk. I want details, girl. Now, shoo!"
Daisy watched George scamper away to rejoin Carlos, then headed back to her own place at John's side.
Carlos noticed. He looked up just as Daisy said, "George, a word?"
"Later, Daisy," George said. She didn't even look up.
"Really, Georgia," Daisy said, a singsong note creeping into her voice. "A word."
George frowned at her. "Really, Daisy--later." Get lost George's eyes said.
Daisy smiled at Carlos. "Excuse us, Carlos. I really, really need to speak to Georgia," she said as she grabbed George's wrist. "Won't take a second." She pulled George to her feet.
Carlos looked ready to intervene but George rolled her eyes and sighed gustily. "Fine," she said petulantly. "I'll be back in a minute," she told Carlos. Daisy stalked off toward the waterline, George in tow.
"Jesus, Daisy! Ow! What the fuck is your problem?" Daisy ignored George's complaints until she reached the hide tide line. They were within sight of the camp but no one would be able to hear them over the surf. She turned to face George.
"You, George," she said. "You're my problem. What do you think you're doing?"
"Jeez, Daisy," George replied, massaging her wrist. "I'm talking to Carlos."
"I'm not talking about that," Daisy said. This was going to be a long conversation if George insisted on being deliberately obtuse. "What's this I hear about you telling people you're a Grim Reaper?"
George looked about to snap back, but Daisy was pleased to see her words take the wind out of George's sails. "Oh," George said quietly. "That."
"Yes--that! You can't do that, Georgia! What on earth possessed you to do it? And please, please tell me you haven't told everyone."
"Not...everyone," George admitted. "Just John. And...Ami. And Mara. And...Dr. Pierson and Quentin. Dr. Jackson, Blaise, Faith...I think that's all."
Daisy stared at George, horrified by the never-ending list. In a moment of uncomfortable clarity she suddenly realized how Rube must have felt on many occasions, facing with cleaning up the aftermath of her own colossal fuck-ups. How on earth had she wound up as the straw boss of their little two-person Reaper team?
"Shit, Georgia, that's--" Words failed her. "How could you?"
"What did you find in the Box of Many Things?" George asked, and Daisy blinked, confused by George's question. "A painting, wasn't it?" George continued.
"Yes," Daisy said. She tried to regain control of the conversation. "But that's not--"
"It was the painting that's supposed to be hanging in our living room, right?"
"Yes, but--"
George fixed her with a steely gaze. "You were the one who told me what you thought that box meant, remember? It meant we didn't just randomly wind up here. We were selected. They chose us. You remember telling me that?"
Daisy nodded, suddenly tired. She didn't want to be having this conversation any longer. Didn't want to think about the implications of the box. She'd successfully put it out of her mind for a couple of days.
"Do you remember what else you told me it meant?" George asked.
"Yes," Daisy said quietly. "They already know about us. All about us."
"Damn right," George said. "So the only people involved in this who don't know are the people on our side. And most of them, maybe all of them, have their own Deep, Dark Secrets. Well, I'm tired of it. There are too many fucking secrets on this goddamn island. If we're gonna get away from here, we have to stop spending all our time and energy keeping secrets from each other."
Daisy listened, marveling at George's fire. She was passionate and engaged. She'd always been passionate, but this focus was new. It suited her. George had grown up over the last two years. More than she had in many, many more years, Daisy thought, though she liked to think that she'd grown some in the last week.
"So I've told some people. I'll probably tell more. I haven't mentioned you and I won't, but--" George stopped talking when Daisy raised a hand.
"Okay, Georgia. You win. I'm not saying I think you're right, but...I'm not saying I think you're wrong either. I just don't know. Just...be sure, okay? This isn't something you can undo." Daisy paused, thinking, and then laughed.
"Well, that isn't necessarily true anymore, is it?" Tara's demonstrated ability to erase memories changed things, didn't it? And perhaps it also proved George's point. Knowing what Tara could do opened up possibilities they'd never have considered before.
George seemed to know what she was thinking. Daisy was relieved when George didn't jump on the point and rub her nose in it. She just smiled gently, apparently content to let Daisy work it out for herself. Daisy smiled back at George, shaking her head slowly.
"When did you get to be so smart?" she asked. She glanced back at camp, where Carlos was keeping a vigilant eye on them. "Go back to your lover," she said, stressing the last word and laughing delightedly when George blushed. "And remember that you still owe me some serious girl talk. I want details, girl. Now, shoo!"
Daisy watched George scamper away to rejoin Carlos, then headed back to her own place at John's side.
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[Mara] Drive-By WTF (tag Daisy, Locke, Charlie, open)
Date: 2006-04-26 07:30 pm (UTC)"Hi!" she said shyly but cheerfully to Daisy and Locke as she wandered past. She was rubbing her forearms a lot. "It's really nice not having scars anymore," she told the ghost--whom she was thinking of nicknaming Sally because she moved like the Nightmare Before Christmas character--as quietly as she could. So it wouldn't think she was ignoring it.
[Daisy] Drive-By WTF (open tag)
Date: 2006-04-26 08:57 pm (UTC)(She's holding hands with--and talking to--George's ghost,) Daisy thought. She hadn't even noticed the absence of George's shadow when she'd been reading her the riot act earlier. (How did that happen?)
"George's ghost seems to have adopted Mara now," Daisy said. She smiled when John glanced at Mara though she knew he couldn't see anything.
John met Daisy's gaze. "She's becoming more active," he said. "Perhaps she's recovering from her trauma."
"I hope so," Daisy said. She hoped that Screaming Guy would recover soon too. Having her sleep disturbed periodically when he ran through camp was getting to be a pain in the ass.
[Mara] No good deed goes unpunished (tag Charlie, fireside folk, open)
Date: 2006-04-26 10:25 pm (UTC)She finally found one, filled it with water, and borught it back. She hesitated a little. /Monkey might hit,/ she thought. But what was she supposed to do?
"Um...Charlie?" she asked in a tiny voice as she moved to his elbow. Both men looked up at her. She drew in on herself a little, but then steeled herself and held out the packet. "I...I found this in my bag."
"Hey, cool!" the big teddybear-guy said, giving her a smile so sweet she lost a lot of her nervousness.
Charlie kept blinking at her like she had just randomly walked up and started talking to him in Greek. "You're not gonna be able to eat around that headache," she said gently. "And the more water you drink, the less it will hurt." /Drown the monkey and flush it out./ "I...I'm sorry that's all I have to give you."
She pressed packet and bowl into his hands and he swallowed. A strange mix of emotions, jagged-edged from the jones, washed over her from him. A little perturbed, she stepped back, lowering her head. "I'll go now," she said softly. "I hope that helps."
She turned around and started to walk away, as the mix of emotions from the blond man got a bit more disturbing by the second.