[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.

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[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.

[Ami] Annoying Amanda (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

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.