[Daisy] Skipped Time: Day 9: Dinner Time (tag George, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Daisy 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.

Comments

[Mara] Drive-By WTF (tag Daisy, Locke, Charlie, open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara wandered by with a packet of aspirin in her hand on her way to find Charlie, holding hands with George's ghost. She had been keeping quietly talking to the bedraggled-looking woman whenever no one else was around, and was finishing up telling her about ectoplasm when she got within earshot of the group near the fire and left off for a bit.

"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.

[Carlos] So, what's up? (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos squashed his worries by going and getting them bowls of turtle stew from the cookpot. When George got back, he handed her one and smiled a little. "I didn't inadvertently scandalize your friend, I hope."

"Huh? Oh, hell no. I actually think she approves."

"Well, that's good. Should I even ask what's up, or is it private friend stuff?"

[George] Finding Clarice (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Trudging through the sand away from Carlos was hard to do. Every time he touched her or kissed her, he got her motor racing. George forced herself not to look back lest she go running back to tackle him right there by the fire. (Wouldn't that be a real conversation stopper?)

Clarice, Clarice, where are you Clarice? George surveyed the beach but didn't spot her. Did another, slower scan. Ah ha--there she was. George walked up to her, uncertain of her welcome. Clarice had been spending a lot of time alone lately.

"Clarice? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

[NPC Amanda] Plotting and Planning (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

After calming herself down from her sudden case of nerves, Amanda made her way back to the cook fire and Shannon. She'd only been gone a few minutes, and claimed that she needed to stretch her legs when Shannon gave her a patented 'Why'd you leave?' look. From where she sat, she could see Carlos talking to Ami of all people, aways down the beach and her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

(I can't even get a hello out of him and he walks off with her.)

"What the bloody hell is that about?" Amanda asked, her voice rising a bit louder than she intended.

"What?" Shannon followed her gaze to where Carlos and Ami stood talking. "Oh, that. Maybe he likes accents."

"I have an accent. In case you didn't notice, I'm Australian."

"Maybe he likes British accents." Shannon shrugged, "Or maybe he just isn't interested in you, Amanda."

Amanda glared at Shannon, then turning, she caught Harry's eyes on the other side of the fire. He mouthed a word to her, and it took her a moment to puzzle out that the word was 'opportunity.'

Turning her gaze back toward Carlos and Ami, the undeserving pom, Amanda suddenly had the glimmerings of an idea. 'Divide and conquer' were Harry and Ethan's words; find the weakest links and expose them. She suddenly knew how to do precisely that. George was young, naïve and about as plain as they came; Ami was older, certainly more experienced and attractive in that exotic way that got guys attention. There was no way that George could compete with that – she'd have to see how much more interested Carlos was in Ami than George; after all the two were pretty buddy buddy over there right now. It was up to Amanda to make that clear to George, and save her some embarrassment.

And then there was Scott. Amanda was pretty certain that petty jealousy and insecurity could go both ways. Carlos was fit and rugged and muscular, with an air about him that women simply fawned over. How could a skinny bloke like Scott hope to compete with that if Ami's attention was wandering?

(Opportunity. Thanks for the reminder, Harry.)

"I'm going for a walk, Shannon," Amanda said dismissively. (I have some seeds of distrust to plant.)

[George] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Well, in my professional opinion," George said, "there's no ghost there." She didn't see how there could be. She'd see it if it were there, and if her daddy had died so long ago, he was long gone to his afterlife. Even if he'd become a Grim Reaper himself he'd have a physical body again. So...no ghost.

But the idea seemed to make Clarice feel better. "On the other hand," George said, "look where we are. All kinds of mysterious shit goes on around here. If your daddy's ghost is mysterious and reassuring...I say, run with it."

[Faith] The Dinner Crowd (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Faith ended up making several circuits around the camp before she burned off the excess energy. Not that it made much difference in the long run - it would rise back up again sooner rather than later. She was convinced that it was something in the Slayer power that drove them to hunt and stalk; she would settle for screwing too.

Unfortunately for the latter, she had yet to find any seriously good prospects for a rough and roll tumble. The beach was filled with eye candy, seriously yummy eye candy, but most of the yummier varieties had already been snatched up. (That's what happens when you get to the party late,) Faith mused.

But, she hadn't explored all avenues yet: Kenzaki was cute, and had a great ass, she'd seen a rather elusive dark haired guy who's name she hadn't glommed yet, there was the blonde southerner who called her "Xena" when she passed by his tent, and she'd been hit on by a punk named Harry. Harry was not in the running. If she'd still been in the use 'em, break 'em, toss 'em game, he would have been fun, but not so much these days.

(I might just be stuck waiting for Ash to get back here. I hope he wasn't just full of talk, 'cause I'll be all talked out in a few more days.)

Faith talked to Rose, a woman who reminded her a bit of Joyce Summers only calmer, and got a bowl of fish stew - that wasn't half bad - and several pieces of fruit for dinner. She ate quietly, alone, but not feeling lonely. This wasn't like the time spent dining alone in prison, there wasn't that feeling of exclusion. Rather, she felt the curiosity regarding her, and she simply sat back to observe the goings on around the camp: which social groups and cliques had formed; who the loners were and who the losers were.

She made a list and mental commentary: George needed kudos for having snagged a guy who gave Sayid a run for the money in the Wet Panties at a Glance category; Clarice had managed to reel in Daniel; she gave Locke a thumbs up when she saw the hot blonde he had hooked up with. Ami and Scott, who stopped to say good-night to her on their way to their shelter, she already knew about; Faith wondered if there were some pairings that people were trying to keep secret.

After a while, her attention was drawn to the two Barbie Wanna Be's, who kept looking at her and talking in low whispers. Well, they would have been low whispers to anyone without Slayer healing. On closer inspection, she realized that one of them looked at her, while the other divided her glares between Faith and the retreating forms of George and Carlos.

(Ah, petty jealousy, been there, done that, bought the tee shirt,) Faith thought. She shook her head, not really caring that she'd been called a "skank," a "slut," and a "slag" (what the hell is a slag, anyway?) in the span of a few moments. If the Barbie Twins had nothing better to do than gossip about her, then Faith figured they weren't really worth wasting her interests on. This was a survival situation and pettiness just didn't figure into it.

(Three years ago, I would be kicking both their asses, now I just ignore them,) Faith thought with no small amount of pride.

As she stood to make another circuit around the camp and talk to Blaise about watch duty, because Daniel was clearly busy with the little fed, she heard a snatch of conversation from the Barbie Twins.

"Why do you keep going on about it? He's fucking George deal with it, Amanda. Go fuck Harry, or Sawyer, if you're that desperate. Who knows what he sees in her? Who cares?"

Faith couldn't help but quip as she walked past, "George is actually interesting."

(And a grim reaper, which really, no one ever mentioned that in the Slayer training.)