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crossing_lostrpIn his professional opinion, Megabyte thought that the shovels were coming along nicely. They weren’t going to be something that you could pick up in your local hardware store or do-it-yourself shop, but they would be serviceable. All it took was a considerable amount of patience, lots of energy, and a good deal of privacy.
He’d started the project on Day 7. Megabyte had been listening to Charlie rave about how half the island was filled with a lot of ‘bloody useless’ people, and wondering if he should comment on the pot calling the kettle the black, when he had a sudden inspiration of how to create those shovels that John and Emerson would need for the boar trap. Fish was good and all, but eventually people would get tired of seafood. Not to mention that the survivors needed to get a balanced diet.
Salvaging what was needed from the fuselage wasn’t (much of) a problem. Finding a way to work with the items in privacy proved to be a bit more problematic. Because the folding and bending and melting of the metal alloys from the plane were going to require a good deal of telekinetic and pyrokinetic skill, Megabyte couldn’t afford to do it any place where he might be caught out. He spent a good portion of the afternoon on day seven simply scouring the jungle near the camp for a good secluded spot, but that would provide him warning that someone was coming.
After that it was easy. He could slink away from camp and visit the fuselage and the ‘port to his spot in the jungle. The combined efforts of teleportation and his kinetic skill was tiring and that meant that when he did return to the camp (usually loaded up with fruit and vegetables that he would forage to use as his cover), he was dead tired and didn’t have to deal with Charlie’s rantings and grumblings … and snoring.
It also meant that he managed to avoid Claire. Not in the sense of running the other way when he saw her, but his special project meant that he didn’t spend as much time with the Aussie woman other than meals and the occasional conversation in passing. It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with Claire; he did, a bit too much and that bothered him. Not because of anything that Claire had done, but because he realized that his infatuation with her – which he’d been hard pressed to put into words and still had only admitted in his head, but not dared utter out loud – was not something that Claire needed to deal with right now.
She needed a friend, and he liked being her friend. He enjoyed her friendship, but he thought that he was skating dangerously close to doing or saying something that would screw that up. Therefore until he didn’t have to fear an Attack of Major Stupidity, he casually put as much distance between them as possible without making it seem like he was putting distance between them. Evidently it was working because when he talked to her at meals, Claire didn’t carry on like his behavior had changed at all.
Of course, the problem was that once the shovels were finished and Megabyte presented them to Locke and Emerson, he wouldn’t have an excuse to come out here and punish himself.
Looking down at the second finished shovel of three, Megabyte checked the fusing of the spade to the handle he’d created from a few pine trunks. It was seamless, and he only hoped that Emerson and Locke chalked it up to Megabyte’s weird powers and didn’t ask for an explanation of how they were made. He set it down and closed his eyes, massaging his temples. He didn’t dare nap out here, but damn he was drained.
A rustling caught his attention and he jerked his head up just in time to see the person entering the clearing blink in surprise as they registered Megabyte’s presence.
He’d started the project on Day 7. Megabyte had been listening to Charlie rave about how half the island was filled with a lot of ‘bloody useless’ people, and wondering if he should comment on the pot calling the kettle the black, when he had a sudden inspiration of how to create those shovels that John and Emerson would need for the boar trap. Fish was good and all, but eventually people would get tired of seafood. Not to mention that the survivors needed to get a balanced diet.
Salvaging what was needed from the fuselage wasn’t (much of) a problem. Finding a way to work with the items in privacy proved to be a bit more problematic. Because the folding and bending and melting of the metal alloys from the plane were going to require a good deal of telekinetic and pyrokinetic skill, Megabyte couldn’t afford to do it any place where he might be caught out. He spent a good portion of the afternoon on day seven simply scouring the jungle near the camp for a good secluded spot, but that would provide him warning that someone was coming.
After that it was easy. He could slink away from camp and visit the fuselage and the ‘port to his spot in the jungle. The combined efforts of teleportation and his kinetic skill was tiring and that meant that when he did return to the camp (usually loaded up with fruit and vegetables that he would forage to use as his cover), he was dead tired and didn’t have to deal with Charlie’s rantings and grumblings … and snoring.
It also meant that he managed to avoid Claire. Not in the sense of running the other way when he saw her, but his special project meant that he didn’t spend as much time with the Aussie woman other than meals and the occasional conversation in passing. It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with Claire; he did, a bit too much and that bothered him. Not because of anything that Claire had done, but because he realized that his infatuation with her – which he’d been hard pressed to put into words and still had only admitted in his head, but not dared utter out loud – was not something that Claire needed to deal with right now.
She needed a friend, and he liked being her friend. He enjoyed her friendship, but he thought that he was skating dangerously close to doing or saying something that would screw that up. Therefore until he didn’t have to fear an Attack of Major Stupidity, he casually put as much distance between them as possible without making it seem like he was putting distance between them. Evidently it was working because when he talked to her at meals, Claire didn’t carry on like his behavior had changed at all.
Of course, the problem was that once the shovels were finished and Megabyte presented them to Locke and Emerson, he wouldn’t have an excuse to come out here and punish himself.
Looking down at the second finished shovel of three, Megabyte checked the fusing of the spade to the handle he’d created from a few pine trunks. It was seamless, and he only hoped that Emerson and Locke chalked it up to Megabyte’s weird powers and didn’t ask for an explanation of how they were made. He set it down and closed his eyes, massaging his temples. He didn’t dare nap out here, but damn he was drained.
A rustling caught his attention and he jerked his head up just in time to see the person entering the clearing blink in surprise as they registered Megabyte’s presence.
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[Tommy] Chance meeting (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-04-27 01:30 pm (UTC)Upon stepping into the small clearing Tommy startled the elusive red-headed Damon. He blinked at the homemade shovel in Damon's hand and two others beside him. "So *this* is where you've been for the past few days," Tommy grinned.
[Megabyte] Chance meeting (tag Tommy, open)
Date: 2006-04-27 10:52 pm (UTC)He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Realizing what Tommy said, his eyes popped open again, "What do you mean? People have been missing me? So much for stealth, heh?"
[Tommy] Chance meeting (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-04-28 06:33 pm (UTC)"Sure," Damon replied. He handed over the homemade shovel, then went back to rubbing his temples. Tommy considered Damon for a moment longer. He wished he knew how his grandfather had healed people. If he did, he'd offer to get rid of Damon's headache.
The shovel was a lot less homemade than Tommy had expected. Although obviously made from scrap metal and a tree branch, the metal blade was neatly cut into a smooth scallop shape. Even more amazingly, the edges were slightly rounded so no one would be cut, and there were no sign of filing. The top of the blade wrapped tightly around the wooden handle, holding it in place by friction. "This is amazing," he murmured. He glanced at Damon, who was obviously uncomfortable with the subject. Tommy reluctantly left his questions unvoiced. Instead he returned the shovel to Damon. "Thanks, man. These will help a lot."
"I guess," Damon agreed unenthusiastically. "Roast boar for everyone."
Tommy got the distinct impression that he should leave. Not before he asked one particular question, though. Indicating the shovels, he said "As much as I'd like to ask about how you managed that, I won't. I'm curious about one other thing, though." Damon met his eyes warily, but didn't protest. "Your and Ami's spirits are nearly identical to me. There are differences because everyone's spirit is unique, but yours are so close. I understand why the Doctor's, Tara's, and Molly's spirits are different. But you, Ami, and Scott are the psychics. Is Scott that different, or are you and Ami that similar?"
[Megabyte] Chance Meeting (tag Tommy, open)
Date: 2006-04-29 01:31 am (UTC)(Ami is going to kill me,) Megabyte thought.
"Ami and I are that similar," Megabyte told him with a half-smile. "Just don't tell her that. She'd hate to think we're anything alike."
He fingered one of the shovels, "We have the same skills and abilities. Except we have different strengths." He indicated the shovel, "Telekinetics, sort of. More of molecular manipulation. Not very easy and it leaves me pretty wiped. But it does create a useable shovel. It's not going to break easily, or end up causing injury."
He slumped back, resting against a tree trunk, closing his eyes. "But I sure hope three is enough. That's all I'm good for."
(And three is probably one more than I should have attempted.)
[Tommy] Chance Meeting (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-04-29 05:42 pm (UTC)"Thank you for telling me," Tommy said sincerely. "I won't say a word about Ami to anyone, just like I haven't told anyone about your abilities." Damon had leaned against a tree with his eyes closed. He looked ready to doze off at any moment. "Are you ready to go back to camp? I'm headed that way."
[MB] Chance Meeting (tag Tommy, open)
Date: 2006-04-29 09:20 pm (UTC)Climbing slowly to his feet, taking care not to move too quickly, Megabyte gathered up the shovels. "I'll drop these off to John, too. And see if Emerson still has those mats that Molly and Claire helped me weave the other day. Maybe we can get to work on those boar pits this evening. Bacon is sounding really good."
Redirect
Date: 2006-05-01 01:11 am (UTC)OOC comment
Date: 2006-04-27 01:32 pm (UTC)Re: OOC comment
Date: 2006-04-27 04:21 pm (UTC)[Locke] A pleasant surprise (tag Tommy, MB, anyone on the beach)
Date: 2006-05-01 01:09 am (UTC)Now back at the cookfire, he and Daisy sat with Claire, Hugh, and a few others. There were enough hands to take care of food preparation, so Locke busied himself by finishing his homemade knife. Fashioned from the piece of shrapnel that had nearly cut into his newly functional legs, it was actually somewhere between an axe head and a knife. He'd finished sharpening the longest edge a few days ago. Now he was completing a weaving of palm fronds so that the non-cutting edge was safe to handle. After much advice from Molly and several failed attempts, his work was almost done.
"Well hello, boys!" Daisy called brightly. Locke looked up to find Tommy and Damon approaching. The two young men said hello to everyone. Actually, Damon mumbled something. He was practically asleep on his feet.
Locke nodded a greeting, then blinked at the three items the men carried. "Are those shovels?"
[Megabyte] A pleasant surprise (tag Tommy, Locke, anyone on the beach)
Date: 2006-05-01 01:23 am (UTC)"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "For digging the boar pits. When do you think you'll be ready to get started? I'd like to help."
[Locke] A pleasant surprise (tag Tommy, MB, anyone on the beach)
Date: 2006-05-01 01:48 am (UTC)Despite his amazement, Locke kept his voice neutral. "Tomorrow, finally. Thanks for offering to help and for putting these together. It will be good to add more variety to our diets, and the skins will be useful."
"Count me in as well," Tommy volunteered. "The more people digging, the faster we have bacon and eggs for breakfast."
Locke grinned at the young man. "Right. Let's put these in the infirmary to keep them out of the rain." He lowered his voice and said to Damon, "Tommy and I will take care of these. Go rest. You've more than earned it."
[MB] Good Night World (tag Locke, MB, anyone on the beach)
Date: 2006-05-01 12:18 pm (UTC)Unless disturbed, he would stay that way for at least twenty-four hours.