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

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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

[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)

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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)

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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

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Snakeskin miniskirt?

Scott says "Hell yeah!" XD

Re: OOC encouragement

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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)

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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?)

[Scott] Oh, yeah! (tag Ami [optional])

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

Scott grinned lasciviously. /Heh. That's part of the reason why it's impractical. But seriously, once in a while, that would be sweet./ After beating back another round of hormones, Scott resolved to get back to work, if only to get back to Ami sooner. /Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my project./ Scott narrowed their link to a trickle and erected his shields. It took a few moments to banish the image of Ami in a snakeskin miniskirt to the back of his mind, but he did get back to work.

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

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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."

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

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"You got a hot date planned?" Faith asked.

"No, I don't have a hot date, I just - " Ami stopped noticing that all three women were looking to her for an explanation and sighed. "I've just been trying to plan something ... a little romantic for Scott and I. In all the chaos we never really, well, dated. And it sounds completely daft when I explain it."

The look Faith was giving her made Ami resist the urge to take a step backwards. There was a new level of consideration in Faith's eyes, as though somehow she was reaccessing and reappraising Ami. "Whoa. Are you sayin' that you and Scott hooked up *here*?"

"Yes," Ami admitted, feeling marginally embarrassed as she once again recalled those first odd and unsettling days on the island. (Has it really only been ten days?)

"Damn. So, you two are the serious shit, then, huh? I mean, the way you two act and look at each other, I thought that maybe you'd been together *before* you got here. So, damn. That rocks. The last two people I knew who were that into each other - " Faith stopped suddenly and pushed hair over her shoulder. "Doesn't matter. So, in other words, hot date. You need something to wear 'cause the Liz Claiborne hiking look is not going to do the trick."

Faith changed subjects so quickly, Ami nearly got whiplash. The odd pang of loneliness mixed with guilt and regret that she felt from Faith before the woman changed the subject had her curious, but she didn't know Faith well enough to pry.

Ami eyed the snakeskin that Ripley was showing her, and glanced to Rose.

"Oh, don't look at me. I don't have anything to do with what you young girls do and plan these days," Rose said.

"Thanks," Ami murmured, and then surprised herself by reaching out to actually touch the snakeskin. It wasn't slimy, but rather felt a bit leathery, but softer and yet not, somehow. "A tube dress? Is there even enough material to make a complete dress? Won't it be a bit short?" (And tight,) Ami added mentally.

"Short, tight and skimpy, just the thing," Ripley nodded.

"And you probably won't be able to wear any underwear," Faith added, making Ami go scarlet. "But hey, it's only Scott who's gonna see you right? He'll be hard and hurting before you can take two steps anyway, so easy access is always good."

Ami forced her jaw shut, her eyes bulging as she stared at Faith. Her face was burning, but not from Faith's words; more from the images and thoughts and feelings that Faith's words conjured up. Doing her best to battle back her hormones and shield Scott from the rising brigade, she resisted the urge to simply run off and find him.

Rose choked and gasped at Faith's baudy description. "Faith! Are you always like this?"

Faith winked at Rose, "Nope. Right now, I'm being tactful."

If this was tactful, Ami did not want to see Faith when she wasn't being tactful.

"So, what do you say, Ami?" Ripley prompted, clearly amused and not the least bit bothered by Faith's version of tact.

(I can't believe I'm agreeing to this,) Ami thought right before she said, "Sure. Why not?"

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

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

"Woohoo!" called Ripley in triumph, waving he snakeskin like a banner and earning a few odd looks. "Seriously, though, I'll catch a few more like this, we'll have some snakey barbecue goodness, and you can have a nice cocktail dress out of the deal. Emerson will not mind. He's one of those guys who wants to keep working with his hands til his dying day."

She really liked Faith. She recalled that Faith was going on the trip out into the jungle with Pierson and the others, and it was yet another temptation to go with them. "Damn," she said thoughtfully. "I'm really torn."

"What is it?" Ami asked.

"Oh, well, Pierson and a couple other people I'd like a chance to hang with more are going on this quest into the jungle. But I also want to make sure security here is covered."

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

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Faith laughed at Ripley’s triumphant whoop. Ripley was cool. So was Ami. Faith hadn’t been sure about the reception of the people on the beach, but so far, so good. The people here were all good people, cool people, and so far, she couldn’t complain. She took a moment to look around for Mara, and found her talking to Tommy near the tree line. Further along the beach, Harry and the Brit guy – Charlie – were being held apart by John and Blaise. (Damn. Fight. And I missed it.)

Then again, considering the participants, she probably hadn’t missed much.

She turned back when Ripley commented on the trip back into the jungle. Faith wasn’t sure what trip Ripley meant until she referred to Dr. Pierson. “Yeah, we’re going back to me and M’s plane. Daniel thought there might be something worth scavenging there.” It was clearly evident that Ripley wouldn’t freak about George’s purpose, and while Faith wasn’t one hundred percent certain, she thought Ami might handle it too. Rose, on the other hand, was a wild card so Faith chose to keep quiet about George going to collect souls and send them onto the afterlife.

“You should definitely come with. The more the merrier,” Faith said. “Daniel is making us wait until the Doc’s team gets back, so the beach should have plenty of protection. Some of it of the really hot kind.” Of course, leaving out after the Doc’s team got back meant that Faith wouldn’t have an opportunity to find out if Ash was all talk and no action.

(Well, you’ve gone this long without it girl, another few days won’t kill you,) Faith reminded herself. (Nope, it just feels like it will when they’re so much eye candy around.)

[Harry] Wheels Within Wheels (open tag)

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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)

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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)

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"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)

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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."

[Mara] Seeing souls (tag Tommy, open)

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"Hi Tommy." Mara smiled a little. His eyes were unusually bright, almost a liquid brown, and reminded her of something, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "I'm Mara. I'm with Faith. I...get overwhelmed a lot. You could say the universe has me in a perpetual state of TMI.

She trailed him back to the bow gladly. "Thank you. It won't be necessary. Most girls could just tell them to go away. I'm...not good at confrontation."

Orrie bumbled to a stop a few feet away and landed rump-over-nose. She got up and shook herself off. Meant to do that! She waggled up to Mara and Tommy and then plopped her ball at his feet.

Mara watched what he was doing quietly. "I want to carve kelp leaves in it," she admitted. "That's what I do. I make things look nicer. Not much use out here, I know. Though...I bet I could help you make arrows."

[Tommy] Seeing souls (tag Mara, open)

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Tommy chuckled at the puppy's antics. He ruffled her fur, grabbed the proffered ball, and tossed it for her. The puppy was a blonde streak in pursuit.

"I want to carve kelp leaves in it," Mara said softly. "That's what I do. I make things look nicer. Not much use out here, I know. Though...I bet I could help you make arrows."

Tommy gave her a grin. "Arrows will be useful, as will making things look nice, especially if we'll be here for a while." He whittled the curve of the bow a bit deeper, saying "Kelp leaves, huh?" After seeing how she'd spent yesterday evening with Ami, River, Scott, and Kenzaki, her comment didn't surprise Tommy. "I'd like that. They'd remind me of the otters and kelp beds I maintained at the Monterey Aquarium. I hope they're doing okay. Especially Dennis."

"Dennis?"

"One of the juvenile male otters. Dennis the Menace. He gets into more mischief than otters typically do."

[Mara] Children of the waters (tag Tommy, open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara blinked at him, then giggled a little. "Oh. That's it, then."

"What's it?"

"Your eyes." It didn't sound like she was flirting. It was always easier to talk to guys who set off her gaydar--especially if she would have otherwise found them attractive. "You miss them, don't you?"

"...kinda, actually, now that I think about it."

She sighed a little, and tentatively took up some of the arrow-making supplies, working to push the bits of fletching into the notched bamboo. "There are kelp beds near here, aren't there?"

"I...think so, yeah."

"Probably otters, too." She smiled faintly. "Maybe you should visit the--"

Her head came up suddenly, a look of panic on her pale features. She looked around, eyes sweeping the treeline as if she expected to see monsters.

A nightengale called. She felt a surge of panic. "Oh no...." she whispered, putting a hand over her chest again. "What is that?"

[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.