[Amanda] Skipped Time (Day 10): Surf's Up! (open tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George was splashing around in the surf with Carlos. Again.



Amanda watched them with ill-concealed jealousy. Rose glanced at her, pausing in her preparation of fish stew for today's lunch. "Why do you do this to yourself, girl?" she asked. "There's lot of attractive men around here."

Amanda didn't bother to answer. She just continued chopping up fruit with more force than was strictly necessary. She looked up again. Carlos was teaching George to body surf. Amanda laughed mirthlessly as George tumbled head over heels and disappeared in a breaker.

They'd gone for a swim every day before lunch for the last three days. It was always the same. They spent all morning together, either playing grab ass while pretending to teach George to fight or disappearing into the jungle. Supposedly they were foraging or setting and checking snares, but Amanda knew they were screwing around out there.

Then they'd come back grinning like idiots, usually with something in hand to justify their disappearance. They'd go swimming (more grab ass), eat lunch, and then they'd disappear again for a siesta. Amanda snorted. ("Siesta" my cute little ass!)

"Why're they out there playing in the ocean while I'm stuck here," Amanda muttered. She was talking to herself, but Rose answered anyhow--apparently she found it impossible not to stick her nose into everyone else's business.

"They've been doing their share since the first day here," Rose said. "Or since Carlos joined us, in his case. If they want to take some time to relax, they've earned it." Her voice hardened. "Your friend Shannon has spent a lot more time relaxing with a lot less justification, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," Amanda snapped.

"No, I guess you didn't," Rose said with aggravating calm.

Amanda snuck a glance at Rose. She continued to methodically prepare the fish. "I just...don't understand what he sees in Toilet Seat Girl," Amanda said.

Rose paused, knife upraised. She looked at Amanda in surprise. "What?"

Amanda feigned surprise. "Oh, didn't you know? George claims to have been killed by a falling toilet seat. Now she's undead or something and she sees dead people, like that kid in The Sixth Sense. Or so she says. Just goes to show far some people will go for attention, I guess."

Rose blinked and glanced out at George, who was sputtering and wiping her face, hip deep in the surf. Amanda worked hard to control the spiteful smile she felt. She was taking great joy in spreading the story since she'd heard it this morning. Rose shook her head sadly, and Amanda smiled faintly.

"You're a pretty girl, Amanda," Rose said. "But you'd be a lot prettier if your insides matched your outsides."



OOC: I've created an icon for Amanda. Feel free to steal it.

Comments

[George] Lat Me Sum Up... (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George thought she could get used to this. The last three days had been almost like a vacation. Yeah, they had to work at feeding themselves, and building or maintaining shelters, but still. George wasn't being assigned souls to take every day. She didn't have to face a boring office job to support herself. Her days--and nights--were very different now.

A couple or three hours spent foraging or checking and resetting snares in the morning, made more enjoyable by plenty of kissing and groping and the occasional frantic coupling. Between Carlos, Hugh and Tommy, George was getting a thorough education on how to clean small game for cooking, and how to cure skins under such rude conditions.

Then a swim, lunch, a "siesta" that had George stumbling back to camp on wobbly legs and high on endorphins. Their siestas weren't fooling anybody, but George was learning not to care. Amanda wasn't the only one who was jealous, just the most obvious about it, but most people seemed to be happy for her--or at worst, neutral.

Late afternoons and evenings were generally devoted to in-camp chores and dinner and socializing. George was getting much better at weaving mats with all that practice--though she was glad that the wear and tear on her fingers healed so quickly. She talked a little during the evening, but mostly she listened.

George knew a great deal about many of the other survivors now, in some cases way more than she really wanted to know. Without electronic entertainment to distract them, people talked. And talked and talked.

Not always about their lives, though. Anecdotes, jokes, ghost stories (that was traditional, and George kept quiet), and round robin question games were common. Once or twice someone began talking about foods they missed, but they were always shouted down by others who didn't want to dwell on what they couldn't have.

And when you (and by "you" George was thinking of herself and Carlos) were tired of talking, or just horny, there was always sex. When they went to bed, when Carlos got back from standing a watch, in the morning. It was glorious and ecstatic and relentless and it couldn't go on at this white hot pace indefinitely--could it?

George smiled and looked at--where was Carlos? She was waist deep in the water and Carlos was nowhere to be seen. George turned in a circle. No Carlos. He couldn't just disappear so, where...? George looked down just as hands clamped on her ankles and upended her.

George struggled to her feet, clearing hair from her face and wiping water from her eyes. Carlos popped up a few yards away, watching her intently but not moving closer. "Ah," he said, "the unwary prey has at last noticed the predator. The predator holds perfectly still, knowing that herd animals are weak and stupid and will soon forget the imminent threat."

George glared at him, but grinned. "You know, I'm right here. I can see and hear you."

"Hoping to discourage the predator, the prey bleats in protest," Carlos said, as if talking to himself. He moved a little closer. "Secure in the stupidity of the prey, the predator moves slowly closer."

George began backing away. "Knock it off," she said, knowing it was useless. "Help!"

Carlos closed a little faster. "The prey bleats for help from a hostile and uncaring world..."

George turned and tried to flee, mired in the waist-deep water. Carlos lunged. George shrieked.

[Carlos] Lat Me Sum Up... (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos pounced; George let out another eek and fell backwards with him into the water. /Heh heh heh./ He took the opportunity to get in a few select nips and caresses while they were under, and then grabbed her around the waist and got his legs under him. With a mock-roar of triumph he stood, lifting her kicking and wiggling out of the water.

He threw her across his shoulders easily, being careful not to bruise her in spite of being theatrical as all hell about it. "And having captured the young bather, the /Carioca/ from the Black Lagoon returns cheerily to his watery lair for a nooner."

He turned around and started mock-lumbering out to chest depth, making urgly monster noises.

[George] Surf Games (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George kicked her feet, not very hard. And beat Carlos on the back with her fists, not very hard. "Help," she said quietly, thinking of Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka. "No, don't. Stop. Please don't," she muttered.

"You know," she said in a normal voice, "If a nooner is the worst 'fate worth than death' you can come up with, I'm going have trouble finding my motivation for this scene. Why would I be resisting, again?"

[Carlos] Surf Games (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos pouted broadly. "I think my monster impression just feel flat on account of too much chemistry between the guy in the rubber suit and the female lead. Damn." He swung her down into his arms and laid her on the surface of the water instead, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss. "Mmm. Mm. Yup. This is definitely way too distracting." His hands started wandering over her skin under the water again, and he felt a tug of desire.

"Too bad we're being watched," he said breezily as the fingers of one hand slid over the backs of her thighs. As indeed, they were. The familiar blonde head turned towards them at the cookfire. Amanda didn't ever seem to do much with her day save hang out, gossip, bitch and occasionally get prodded into work by Rose. And watch Carlos.

"She's still staring?"

"Yup. Makes me want to do something incredibly dirty to you right here just to get the point across," he said cheerfully in her ear as he circled one of her nipples with a fingertip. "But if Rose catches sight, her head will explode and put the cookfire out."

[George] Surf Games (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"...do something incredibly dirty to you--" Carlos said, suiting action to words. George sucked in a ragged breath and lost track of what Carlos was saying for a moment. "W-what about Rose?" she asked.

Carlos just grinned happily. "Never mind," he said. "Wasn't important."

"Oh--okay," George said. She grabbed Carlos' face in both hands and pulled him down for a long kiss full of promises, at least until a sneaker wave splashed over them. George got a faceful of seawater. She struggled upright, coughing up seawater.

"Making Rose's head explode would be rude," George said when she could talk again, now that she'd had a moment to work out what he'd said. She gave Carlos an evil smile only slightly marred by a final cough. "Even if it would be fun to make Amanda grind her teeth so loud we could hear it from here."

"It would, indeed," Carlos said. "And much as I'd love to do just that, it's about time to go in."

"Yeah..." George said reluctantly. She'd taken a real liking to swimming in the ocean. Mostly because of the company, but seawater warm enough to play in was an enjoyable novelty for a dead girl from the Pacific Northwest. Then she smiled lecherously. "But soon: siesta time!"

[Carlos] Surf Games (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos sputtered a little and laughed as the wave washed over them, then coughed. "Woops. Sorry. Went a little far out." He wrapped his arms around her and started moving back in slowly.

"Truth is, I'd happily stand here making you squirm while she couldn't do a thing but watch," he murmured, kissing the tops of her breasts as they floated. "But I'm not that exhibitionistic, and having her even watch is a turn-off." He lowered his head and caught one of her nipples between his lips through the fabric of her swimsuit for a second. "Relatively, anyway. With you around, I am not sure how I'm getting out of the water without embarrassing myself...huh. Wait."

He closed his eyes. /Zombies. Zombies zombies zombies z--yeah, that's so much more effective than thinking of dead kittens./

Wry grin. "OK, never mind."

He had made enough mats now to give their shelter proper walls and a floor, and had actually gotten pretty good at it. They could break the mess down to cover the floor and screen the entrance when they moved to the caves, but for now it was even pretty good at shedding rain. And of course, it provided a modicum of privacy.

Only three days, and Carlos was pretty well up to admitting that he was smitten. George would have made a great friend and partner in a lot of things even if they weren't jumping each other's bones at every opportunity. Which they were--and God, what a wonderful luxury in the middle of life-or-death circumstances. She was so...reactive, and curious, and fun, and seemed happy to have him making up for lost time with all her neglected nerve endings. Carlos, for his part, was acutely aware that they might not survive this, and he really liked her, and of course, he really liked sex. The combination had him feeling like going half a day without a taste of her was too long.

Back at the shelter, he dragged out the "futon" he was working on and went back to stuffing it with raffia. It was simply two mats sewn together at the edges, with one end loose and folded over so the plant fibers stuffed inside could be replaced.

"Almost done?" George asked.

"Think it's nearly ready for a test drive, yeah." He winked at her, a gleam of hunger in his black eyes.

[George] Surf Games (tag George, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Yay," George said quietly, but with a matching gleam in her own eyes.

She was excited to try out the futon, though frankly she'd be excited under almost any circumstances as long as Carlos was involved. To say that the last three days had been educational would be a colossal understatement. Her previous experience of sex hadn't begun to prepare her for what Carlos had done to her, for her, with her. And all the practice they'd gotten meant that it just kept getting better! If the futon worked out, they'd be making extensive use of it.

There would also be plenty of conversations in the dark on that futon. George enjoyed those almost as much as the sex. Carlos wasn't like anyone else she'd ever met and he fascinated her. He was full of surprises and often serious but occasionally goofy. He'd accepted her completely, almost unfazed by her bizarre life story, and seemed intent on spoiling her completely.

They'd spent almost no time apart since they'd become lovers. George liked that. She already found it hard to imagine not having him around.

"So, can I do anything to speed this along? I'm looking forward to taking it for a spin."

[Ami] Annoying Amanda (open tag)

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Morning foraging done, and made much more pleasant by the absence of Shannon and Amanda, and the company of Molly, River, Sun and to Ami’s surprise, Faith, Ami made her way across the camp to deliver a new crop of foodstuffs – and a batch of the soapnuts that Molly had pointed out to them. Their soap reserves were dwindling, and Ami was glad that Molly knew about these things. The majority was stored in special ‘crates’ created for the purpose of keeping the food, and once that was done the women parted ways to continue their own morning routines.

River, oddly enough, trailed along behind Sun – evidently the language barrier didn’t bother River or Sun, but Faith kept up with Ami as she made her way to the cookfire. The woman was surprisingly spry and athletic, and she’d been able to climb higher and faster than any of them, and carry a good deal more weight. Faith didn’t brag or show off, however, it just seemed to be a part of her, and Ami personally was grateful for the extra hands and willingness to help.

They arrived just in time to hear Rose’s comment to Amanda, and Amanda to follow it up with a nasty glare and a, “No one asked you.”

Ami didn’t even want to know what had soured Amanda’s mood this morning, but following the younger woman’s gaze out to sea, she figured she had a good idea. George and Carlos were playing in the ocean again, laughing and clearly having a good time as they’d done just about every day.

“They look like they’re having fun,” Ami remarked with a wistful smile.

Amanda snorted, earning a look and a semi-confused frown from Faith.

“They’ve earned it,” Rose commented. “So have you. How come I never see you and Scott out there acting like two kids? You’re not old and married yet.”

Ami turned her smile on Rose. “There’s always too much to do. It isn’t like we don’t spend time together.”

“There are other ways of spending time together. It doesn’t always have to be intimate.” Rose pointed out, making Ami’s face go scarlet even if the woman hadn’t come out and said, “Do something other than have sex.”

“Strewth!” Amanda swore, throwing down her knife. “Do I really have to listen to this?”

“Jealous?” Faith asked. She bent down and picked up the knife, and grabbed up a piece of fruit, resuming the job that Amanda had abandoned in her snit.

Amanda’s dark look was answer enough to Faith’s question. Faith’s half-smirk probably didn’t help Amanda’s mood either and with a glare for each of them, the young woman stalked off.

“Faith, I know you’re new here, but please tell me you aren’t going to always pick fights,” Rose chided. “I had only just managed to get that child to actually be helpful.”

“That wasn’t a fight, Rose,” Faith said, continuing to chop with that mischievous half-smirk on her face. “If I’d been picking a fight, she would have known that I was picking a fight. That was truth.”

Rose merely shook her head. “You are really going to shake things up around here, aren’t you, young lady?”

“Nah, I’ll just keep the elitist entitlement types in line.”

Ami was grateful for the distraction. She couldn’t possibly explain to Rose the connection she shared with Scott, or how they spent time together even when they weren’t together. She gathered up a third knife and sat down to help with lunch preparation as well.

Rose looked at her hard, then stopped her hand. “What is it going to take to get you to take a break and enjoy yourself a bit?”

“I’m fine, Rose. I don’t mind helping.”

Rose sighed and looked upwards. Then she went back to work, muttering about ‘people not knowing when to stop.’

Faith’s smirk grew and she chuckled, but she refused to tell them why.

[Ripley] Annoying Amanda (tag Faith, Ami, open)

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

Ripley came up out of the water in her underwear, a large fresh-killed crab in each hand and Harry standing there staring at her like she was Venus herself. /Christ on a crutch, fanboy, get another hobby,/ she thought.

"Ripley...?" he ventured almost timidly.

She set the crabs down on some driftwood and bent down to pull her pants on. "What do you want, kid?"

His eyes tracked the lean muscle of her thigh as the fabric slid up over it. It didn't bother Ripley much. /He can look all he wants, but if he touches, he dies. Ironically...I wonder if that's part of why he likes to look so much./

Footsteps pattering up on them.

"Ripley, I--"

"There you are!" Amanda, sweating off her perfume and makeup in this heat, face pulled into a mask of pouty rage as she stomped up to Harry. "Fuck off, bitch, we're talking," she shot at Ripley without even really looking to see who she was.

Ripley snorted and looked at Amanda like a particularly annoying but interesting bug she was considering squishing. The debutante, meanwhile, had her back to Ripley and was already going on at Harry, who looked put on the spot and startled.

"...they're practically fucking in the surf in front of everybody and I'm the only one who's disgusted! I can't believe that! And another thing...."

Ripley sat down to put on her boots. Amanda shot her a glare...that faded when she realized who she was talking to, and froze in a nervous smile when she saw the older woman's expression. She grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him off, still bitching at him. Harry, for his part, looked back over his shoulder at Ripley with an expression that shocked her a little.

/Boy looked almost apologetic./

Pulling on her vest, she grabbed the crabs and rose, heading for the cookfire. Ami, Rose and one of the new girls were there working. "I got crabs for your pot, Mama Rose!" she announced as she ambled up.

She gave Ami a grin. "How you doin'--shit, there she is working again. Lemme take a turn when I'm done with these. Oh, and by the way...rich people's kids annoy the shit out of me."

Ami smirked. "Harry again?"

"Oh, he was positively well-behaved this morning! But then Amanda came over. Don't worry, though. They're still both in one piece." Grin.

Then her smile faded. "Harry's getting popular. He's part of that clique of idiots who've decided to hang with Ethan. Including Amanda and another woman--which is so not-bright on their parts it doesn't bear going into."

/I wonder how long until the women in that group find themselves coerced into sex, or worse, because they're too stupid to avoid placing their loyalty with just the sort who would do that to them?/

[Faith] Nice Pants (tag Ripley, Ami, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Faith looked up as a tall, athletic woman called out a greeting about crabs. She was striking and beautiful, with all the grace and beauty of a wild predator. Gorgeous enough to distract you and lure you in close, and dangerous enough to strike at your heart or juglar while you were still smitten with the deceiving outer shell, like a panther or a tiger or a lioness in wait. Leather pants stuck on her like a second skin, and her very presence caused the Slayer inside to rouse and raise her head in recognition of a kindred spirit, a fellow warrior.

She'd not noticed this much about the woman before, when she'd been sleeping in the sand after playing with Mutt, but today, up close and personal, Faith figured that it was probably impossible for anyone to not notice her.

"Harry's an ass," Faith said. "Not really surprised that he's a pretty little rich boy."

Rose tsked, shook her head, but said nothing.

Faith looked at the other woman, Ripley and grinned. "Nice pants. I'm kinda missing my leathers, but take what you can get, you know?"

Ami choked and coughed. Rose instantly went around to start slapping the British woman on the back while Faith frowned in concern.

"Are you all right, child?" Rose asked.

As Ami's coughing fit subsided, she managed to slowly gasp out "Blimey! It's just the thought of what Ripley *and* Faith in leather pants would do to the libido of every man on this beach."

"Well, I'm sure there are a few of them that wouldn't be complaining," Rose said with a wink and returned to lunch preparations.

[Ripley] The Snakeskin Brigade (tag Faith, Ami, open)

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

Ripley regarded Faith with sudden, intense interest, forgetting to blink for show for a little. She squinted thoughtfully. Leaned forward a bit. Sniffed. "Christ, it's me at twentysomething, but hot. Hi there. I'm Ripley."

The pants comment and Ami's reaction made a slow grin cross her face. "These are Emerson's fault, and I'm sure he'd perpetrate snakeskin pants as often as his randy old hands can crank them out.

"We've got someone making leather stuff locally? You're fuckin' kidding me!"

"Nope." Ripley looked a little smug. "Great guy, too. All he asked in return was that I cut him a pimp stick and help him with some guard-duty project he's gonna need later. Something about the garden."

She looked at Ami speculatively; then her grin reappeared and she leaned over to Faith speculatively. "You know...she doesn't have to do kicks. Snakeskin miniskirt?"

OOC encouragement

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

Snakeskin miniskirt?

Scott says "Hell yeah!" XD

Re: OOC encouragement

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

I can just see all the guys on the beach lining up to give Emerson design suggestions....

[Ami] The Snakeskin Brigade (tag Faith, Ripley, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Ami's eyes went wide at the words 'snakeskin miniskirt.' She saw the mischeivous glint in Ripley's eyes and it was mirrored in Faith's. "What? No!" Ami immediately protested, "You're not very likely to see me often in a skirt or a dress, and ... snakeskin miniskirt?</> I think not.

"Come on, Ripley, you know me, you see how I dress," Ami indicated the simple khaki shorts and tank top with a sweeping hand motion. "This is it, the Ami Jackson Tropical Island look. In season all year around when stranded on desert island."

"You've got the legs for it, why not show 'em off?" Faith asked as she casually inspected Ami's legs.

Ami didn't know what was more disturbing, the fact that Faith was checking out her legs, the fact that Ripley was grinning maniacally, or the fact that a woman she knew as a friend and a woman she hardly knew had just met, bonded and decided to turn her into their personal dress up doll. Or some combination of all of the above.

Rose chuckled in the background, and as Ami turned to look at her, she said, "You're going to miss these days when you could show it all off and didn't take the opportunity."

"Oh, please Rose, by all that is holy, tell me you don't actually think this is a good idea!"

"Well, they're your legs," Rose said and went back to lunch preparations.

Ami looked pointedly at both women, "No. No. And no."

Faith nodded in understanding. She turned to Ripley, "So, who's Emerson, and how many skins do you think he'll need for a skirt?"

Faith grinned, Rose chuckled, and Ripley chortled. Ami groaned.

[Scott] Oh, yeah! (tag Ami)

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Scott had just started work on his new project -- the one that required an inch-wide pebble of milky quartz, his sphere, and a lot of time -- in a secluded spot on the far side of the stream when Ami punched through his shields. He'd thought they were pretty solid, too, since the project was a surprise for her. Nevertheless, a rather exquisite image of Ami wearing a skimpy black halter top, high heels with ribbons that wrapped around her ankles, and a snakeskin miniskirt popped into his head. He flushed from head to toe, his project utterly forgotten. /Oh, yeah,/ he thought to her. /Not very practical on a desert island, but... yeah. Are you guys fantasizing about going shopping or something? 'Cause I'll give you a blank check./

[Ami] Oh, yeah! (tag Scott)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Ami was surprised to hear Scott's thought; he'd been prettily heavily shielded all morning - teasing her, but refusing to tell her what was such a big secret - and now he was there in her head again. Not only that, but he must have picked up on some of the images that sprang to mind at Ripley and Faith's suggestion.

/Oh yeah?/ Ami repeated, half-embarrassed and half-flattered. /You're as bad as Ripley and Faith. They're the ones plotting on getting Emerson to make me a snakeskin miniskirt./

She paused, then asked, curiously, /Would you really like it if I wore something like that?/ Ami couldn't believe the little epiphany that sprang up: she was truly considering it, if only because Scott was interested.

(I suppose the other question is: precisely how long would I be wearing it?)

[Ripley] Resistance is Futile (tag Faith, Ami, open)

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

Ripley laughed. "Ami, take it easy. It's just that dammit, sometimes dressing hot is just the thing. I mean, what about those mumblings about a formal date with Scott? Have you thought about what you're gonna wear?"

She reached into her vest pocket--encountered the shirt rag soaked with "Pierson"'s blood, made sure she didn't pull it out, and checked the other one--coming out with a rolled up snakeskin in golden brown.

"How about a tube dress made of this?" She waggled her eyebrows a little. "Snake hunting's easy, since the bastards keep trying to take chomps out of us. Bet it would set off your hair and eyes really nicely."

[Harry] Wheels Within Wheels (open tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Harry changed course in mid-stride to intercept Amanda. He put on his best smug face for the benefit of all the bystanders and sidled up to Amanda. "I thought you were smarter than this," he told her through a smile.

"What? What do you mean?"

Harry wanted to sigh, but he held it in. Too many eyes were on them. He leered at Amanda. "I thought you understood, but maybe it was too difficult for you. It doesn't matter how hot you are, or how good you are in bed. You can't give Carlos what George gives him--shut up," he added before she could draw a breath to renew her rant.

"George is his meal ticket. She's close to the Jackson's inner circle. By sleeping with George, Carlos gets to join them. He leapfrogs his way from peon to prince." Harry thought maybe she got it then, but he'd thought so earlier and been wrong, so he laid it out for her.

"I'm sure you think Carlos is the greatest thing since sliced bread, but you're wasting your time and annoying everyone else, including your friends. So knock it the fuck off."

Harry paused to give Amanda slow up-and-down look. "If you're just looking to get laid, I'm willing to throw myself on that grenade. I'm sure you're a real smooth ride. Ah ah--not yet," he said when Amanda looked ready to slap him.

He leaned in close. "But if you want to help us change things around here, you need to think for a change. Carlos has the right idea. I'm sure that if you think about it, you can find a candidate for the same treatment." Harry flicked his eyes to his left, drawing Amanda's attention to Blaise. "Someone who is still single? Someone in a position of authority? And who knows? You might even enjoy it."

"Now you can slap m--" Harry started to say. Amanda's hand came up out of nowhere and left him holding a very hot cheek. Her eyes sparkled for a change, with malicious amusement.

Harry stepped back, looking surprised and hurt. "Your loss, baby," he said for the assembled multitudes. Then he walked away. He wondered if Amanda would take the hint. If she did, it might be more than worth the pain.

[Mara] Wheels Within Wheels (open tag)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara was wandering along the high-water line when she felt a clenched fist of spoilt-child anger, outrage and confusion in the shape of a woman heading at her back. "Out of my way, crazy bitch," Amanda snarled as Mara stepped aside just in time to avoid being pushed.

Mara stood there gasping, shocked by an overload of...inappropriate...emotion. Possessiveness. A sense of just not being understood by anyone. Deep irritation...with Harry, for some reason. /They don't get it. None of them get it--Idon'twantpoliticaladvantagehereIjustwantHIM--/

Mara stumbled and let out a soft eek. /Oh boy. Oh boy but some people are uncomfortable to be around./ She herself had been quietly avoiding Charlie all morning; he kept sitting somewhere near her and staring at her, and his stares were like unwelcome hands on her skin.

Speaking of which...heading this way, eyes on her in the wrong way, thinking of saying something just because there was the opportunity, not out of concern--there he was. /No, Charlie, leave me alone,/ she thought as she hurried down the beach, and was so disoriented from his worry over him and getting the brunt of Amanda's feelings that she ran straight into Harry.

Hands grabbed her shoulders.

/crazy but cute...bet I could talk her into anything/

"Hey, hey, careful there. You all right?" Hands sliding down her forearms opportunistically toward the sides of her breasts.

She pulled away awkwardly. "I'm fine." He was smiling too much. She never trusted men that smiled too much. "Excuse me."

"Now, c'mon, wait a second here--what's your name?" He grabbed one of her upper arms again to stop her, and she shuddered. /Dirty. Filthy. Bad./

"Harry," Charlie's voice behind them had suspicion, possessiveness and a hard warning in it. /...hands off her NOW you smarmy shite.../

"Little busy right now, Charlie-boy. Come back later." He sounded amused as she whimpered and tried to pull away. "Oh, come on, don't be shy--"

"Harry, she doesn't fookin' like bein' touched!" Charlie grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him away. That bit had almost seemed like honest protectiveness...but no. Until the monkey was all the way dead he couldn't manage anything so selfless.

/Oh holy crap, what is this? I'm being fought over by two of the creepiest bastards on the beach!/ Mara stumbled backward away from them, eyes brimming.

"Wait--Mara--bloody Hell, now see what you did!"

Harry got in Charlie's face as he rounded on him. "What I did? You're the one acting like a crazy person! Maybe you two belong together!"

That did it. Mara started running away blindly from the arguing pair.

[Tommy] Wheels Within Wheels (tag Mara, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

"Wait--Mara--bloody Hell, now see what you did!" Charlie's and Harry's shouting tore Tommy's attention from his nearly finished bow. He looked up from his campsite to see Mara running blindly from the two idiots, heading straight for the jungle. Tommy was on his feet and sprinting to intercept her before he quite realized what he was doing. Thankfully he'd somehow remembered to leave the knife he'd borrowed from John behind.

Mara was fast, but Tommy had the advantage of longer legs. He dashed several feet ahead of her, saying, "Mara, stop! You're headed for the jungle. It's safe here on the beach." Although they hadn't actually met previously, he hoped she'd listen.

[Mara] Fallout (tag Tommy, open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara stumbled to a stop, aware of the young man and his concern--and Orrie, thinking this was all a game, making a barking streak down the beach toward her. As her heartbeat slowed and she became more fully aware of her surroundings, she realized she was bare steps from the treeline.

/I ran toward the Jungle. Where THEY are. Oh my God. Why would I do that?/

She stood there panting, her eyes drying as she got her bearings.

/I just got too upset again, I guess./

"I'm sorry." She dipped her head, pale cheeks gleaming. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I just wanted to be somewhere that was away."

The two were still arguing. Harry was going to get hit. She squelched a stab of concern. /Let him. Stop caring so much for hateful people. You're not a martyr; you just had a demon try to turn you into one.

Sound of fist on flesh. She winced.

Then she rolled her eyes up to peek at Tommy. "Th-thank you for the warning."

[Tommy] Fallout (tag Mara, open)

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"You're welcome," Tommy replied a bit distractedly. He was keeping an eye on Charlie's and Harry's rather pathetic fistfight. Several others were watching as well, so he returned his attention to Mara. She looked like a small, frightened bird. Her spirit came into focus briefly. It was also avian; a kestrel whose hood had been torn off and wings clipped. But her sharp eyes were adjusting, and bright feathers growing in.

Tommy smiled. "I'm Tommy. You're welcome to come sit with me if you want. I'm working on a bow over there. I'll crack it over those morons' heads if they bother you again."

[Amanda] Heart of Darkness, Pt. I (no tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Amanda fled the camp as fast as she could without attracting attention. She couldn't stand it anymore. She was furious and disappointed and hurt. The sight of Carlos fawning over that skinny bitch was sickening. Almost as bad was how most everyone seemed to think it was just fine, and now even her so-called friends--or at least allies--were jumping on the bandwagon. ("Leave it alone, Amanda,") she thought mockingly. ("Get over it, Amanda." Well, fuck you all!)

(And Harry thinks he's so fucking smart,) Amanda thought as she stormed off into the jungle at the edge of the beach. (Ethan is playing him like a banjo and Harry doesn't have a clue.) She didn't know what their ultimate goal was, but it was clear that they didn't give a damn about her. They just wanted to use her to further their own ends. Screw them, too!

Angry at first, Amanda stormed along with little thought for her path. The anger faded and she slowed, her eyes tearing up and her lower lip quivering. She felt a crying jag coming on and she was glad to be far enough from camp that no one would see or hear. Amanda reached a small clearing in the jungle and sank down into a pathetic huddle and let it out.

She sobbed and howled and screamed and beat her fists against her knees or the ground. Before she was done, she felt hoarse, exhausted and strangely empty. It was an ugly, painful experience--and a little frightening. Even as she wallowed in self-pity, some small part of her marveled at the depths of rage and fear and pain she felt.

Amanda came to herself crouched in the clearing, arms around her knees, rocking herself gently and feeling...lucid, as if she had awakened from a dream. For the first time, thinking over her behavior for the last few days, she recognized what everyone had being telling her. She was obsessed with Carlos. She was practically stalking him!

(Small wonder everyone is turning on me,) Amanda thought. (I've been a complete ass.) She might have followed that thought to it's logical conclusion, except that that was when she heard the voices.

OOC: to be continued...

[Amanda] Heart of Darkness, Pt. II (no tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

At first she thought she was imagining them. It had to be the rustling of leaves in the wind--except that there was no wind in the clearing. The leaves hung motionless all around her. Amanda got shakily to her feet and moved, trying to get a little closer to the voices, to make them out. Had a group followed her from the beach? Was it...the Others?

No matter how she strained to hear, no matter how she turned and maneuvered, Amanda could never quite make out what the whisperers were saying. They got no closer and never became any clearer. It was terribly frustrating. Amanda felt the frustration like a maddening itch and it reminded of her recent frustrations. George.

Amanda scowled, feeling her newfound calm cracking. The whispers continued unabated. She could almost imagine that they were repeating George's name over and over again, rubbing it in. George, the source of all her unhappiness. George was the problem.

For a moment Amanda struggled to cling to her brief sense of serenity, but the whispering was relentless. It seemed to remind her of every resentment and annoyance she'd endured at George's hands. She could imagine the voices reminding her that it wasn't going to change. Amanda could feel her resentment and anger rekindling with unnatural rapidity.

She turned and darted toward the edge of the clearing, but the voices seemed to follow her. George was the problem. Her pain would continue as long as Carlos was sleeping with George. Amanda pressed her fists to her heads, as if that could silence the voices--or the idea that occurred to her now.

George was her problem. If George weren't around, she wouldn't be a problem. It was simple problem with a simple solution. The thought appalled her. It horrifed Amanda that she could even contemplate it. More horrible still was the knowledge that she was tempted.

Amanda fled the clearing, running as fast she could, pursued by the whispering, herded by it. She had long since lost any sense of where she was in relation to the beach. She ran until she was gasping for breath and moving on shaky legs, until she stumbled to her hands and knees.

Stumbled over a corpse. A long-decayed bundle of rags and bones, skull grinning at her with malevolent intent. Amanda drew in a breath, but the scream she heard in the back of her mind never made it out her mouth. Instead, she reached out and wrested a prize from the skeletal fingers of the right hand. The whispering surrounded her again, still unintelligible but full of pointed meaning.

Amanda raised the pitted, rusted blade of the machete and examined it, trying not to think about what she had to do.

OOC Admiration

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

sinanju you are absolutely ebil. I bow before your wickedness.