[Ami] Day 11: Tending Open Wounds (tag Mara,open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

OOC: Bumping from [Lucy] Day 11: Making Her Escape due to maximum comment/replies reached.

Edited 16 May 06 to add: Maximum Posting Limit of 75 has been suspended for this thread.

---------------------------

Ami ducked into Mara's shelter as Tommy and Jon made their way to the cookfire area. As they departed, her stomach grumbled a bit, reminding her that she hadn't eaten yet this morning. Tommy and Jon were too far away without shouting for them, and shouting might disturb Mara and she wasn't willing to leave the young woman alone. She figured she'd suffer through for a while longer; it wasn't like she would die of starvation in a few hours time.

Kneeling by Mara's bed, she hesitantly reached out and placed her hand lightly on the woman's forehead. Dropping her shields just a bit, she focused solely on Mara, wincing again at the rents and tears in the woman's shields. Beneath that, she was disturbed, and mentally and psychically exhausted. Ami wasn't connected to Mara the way she was to Megabyte, Mara not being a Tomorrow Person, but she thought she would try to reinforce the woman's shielding a bit anyway. The worse that would happen was nothing and the best was that Mara might sleep a bit easier, even if Ami couldn't take away the horrors she'd already experienced.

It took a few minutes of concentration, and Ami felt a wee bit more tired herself when it was done, but she'd managed to connect with Mara on the very surface and reinforce her shielding – filling in some of the gaps. It wouldn't hold for long, a day at the most, but hopefully it would give the other woman some comfort.

Done with what she could do, Ami leaned against Mara's bed and waited for Tommy and Jon to return.

Comments

[Kenzaki] Stomping off (tag open)

[estirose.livejournal.com]

(OOC: Kenzaki's wandering off from over here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/67247.html?thread=2272687#t2272687). )

Kenzaki, annoyed at his inability to do anything, walked off farther into the woods. He was safe, nothing could kill him, and he needed to be away so that he could get himself under control. Maybe after that he'd deal with people who didn't understand him and didn't speak his language. Maybe a few days would do it.

Sukotto-san would help Ripuri, he was sure. He didn't need to be along to help.

[Tommy] Breakfast is served (tag Ami, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

OOC: sophieb, I assume Jon is going to find some reason to escape from shaman-boy. If not, I'll repost.

After they'd grabbed some fruit and bamboo shoots from the food stores, Jon had left for the cookfire. Tommy stayed for a few minutes to give Ami some space. He mechanically ate a few pieces of fruit, wondering what Ami was doing and trying not to think about Lucy. Once he finished, he headed back to Mara's shelter, taking a banana and a guava in case either of the women were hungry.

Whatever Ami had done hadn't taken long. She gave him a tired smile from where she leaned against Mara's shelter. Tommy tossed the guava in the air and caught it. "Hungry?"

[Ami] Breakfast is served (tag Tommy, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

"You must have read my mind," Ami joked. "Yes, quite. Seems that I was so worried about Mara that I didn't think to grab a bite for myself this morning."

"Banana or guava?" Tommy offered.

"Banana please," Ami said, "And thank you." She accepted the fruit and peeled the banana, taking a few bites to soothe her stomach. "How are you holding up in the face of all of this, Tommy?"

[Tommy] Breakfast is served (tag Ami, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

Tommy shrugged. "I haven't had time until now, really. I was coming back from my morning run when I found Mara. Been focused on her." He glanced into the shelter and watched the young woman sleep for a few moments. "What did you do to help her?"

[Megabyte] Sad & Scared (tag Claire, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

OOC: Megabyte is replying to Claire from here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/67247.html?thread=2277807#t2277807).

Claire's reaction to his presence was not at all what he expected, but it was certainly a welcome relief. The fact that he hadn't even had to really say much of anything, only give her a bit of space evidently made him realize that he hadn't really given Faith enough credit with understanding people or relationships.

"Apology accepted, but I owe you one too, for freaking you out like I did." Megabyte gave her a sad-smile, and desperately wishing that he could offer her something to wipe her eyes with, he reached out and wiped away her tears with his thumb and fingertips, hoping that he wasn't overstepping. "I think that things got a bit – rough – yesterday for both of us. Neither of us really reacted well to the whole situation, but I can't – and I don't – blame you for your reaction, Claire. It was perfectly reasonable reaction and better than some I've had.

"But now at least my weirdness is out on the table, right? So if I do something completely freakish in the future you'll at least know I haven't completely lost my mind.

"And for what it's worth, you're my friend, Claire, and I'm not going to make it that easy for you to make me stop giving a shit. Life really is too short."

Megabyte heard the crying of a seagull, and followed it until it landed on the reef. He looked away with a shudder and then realized exactly what Claire had been sitting and staring at this whole time. (Life is definitely too short.) Throwing caution to the wind (again) he slid closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Whether she was upset over Lucy, the suddenness of it all, or some combination of both, he didn't know and he didn't ask.

"It doesn't make a bit of sense to me either," Megabyte murmured softly, not quite sure if he was talking to Claire or to himself. Not that he'd ever have the option of taking that particular sort of out, but it didn't make sense. Life on the beach wasn't easy, but was it really that hard? Or was Lucy one of those who just never connected and . . .he let the thought trail off, turning his concentration to Claire and her discomfort and upset. He really didn't have any words of comfort to offer, how could he when there never were words of comfort, just empty platitudes, and hoped that simply being there and being her friend was enough.

She wasn't alone, not like Lucy, and he hoped she understood that.

[Claire] Sad & Scared (tag MB, open)

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

Claire decided that she liked having Damon's arm round her shoulder and leaned into the warmth, feeling decidedly better than she had done a minute ago. There was still that chill from.. *shudder*.. but if she still had a decent friend on this pile of sand, despite everything she'd said and done, things were looking up.

"How some people can get away with an instant tan while we poor sods have to make do with infinite peeling doesn't make sense either," she joked quietly, then chewed her lip as she remembered Lucy's death. "I'd really like to know where all this fits in the great plan though, if there is one. Sometimes it feels like I got a raw deal in life, then along comes something else that makes me think I must have it easy after all.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but how come I get to have a good mate like you despite everything while poor Lucy gets.." Claire waved her free arm vaguely in the direction of the reef, then leaned her head on Damon's shoulder as the inner shivering returned. Never mind the fact that Lucy'd been stand-offish at best, it just seemed like such a waste. "She survived the crash for what? This? Because it was 'her time'? It's not right. It's not fair."

She shrugged as best she could, sniffing a little. "Don't worry 'bout answering that. I know there isn't one. It's just.. crap. All crap."

[Megabyte] Sad & Scared (tag Claire, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

If he lowered his shields, he could feel the emotional tide of the camp, a clear demonstration that emotions were running high all around. He narrowed his concentration, focusing just on Claire, noting her sadness and confusion, although he didn't need to call upon any kind of empathy to pick up on that. Claire cared a lot more than a lot of people, which meant that she would hurt a lot more and feel a great deal more sympathy at a time like this.

Not that he didn't as well. His eyes were drawn again to the reef and he suppressed a shudder as he forced his attention elsewhere. That was a waste, as much as Eric's death. Surviving a plane crash to die in a raid by the feral Neanderthals, or surviving a plane crash to end up killing yourself? Which was worse? Did it make that much difference? Things weren't so bad here that a person should want to take their own life, so what would cause Lucy to have made such a decision?

(Stop analyzing,) Megabyte chided himself. (Lucy's gone, it's the fallout that has to be dealt with now.)

"When I was at MIT, there was guy, Jack, who had everything," Megabyte started talking quietly, absently rubbing Claire's shoulder. "We thought he had everything. He was the smartest one, always had a girlfriend or a date, rich parents, Pentagon, Department of Defense, NASA, all of them were begging for him and he was only a sophomore. In his second year," Megabyte clarified.

He didn't go on to describe how a few late night partiers had found Jack dangling from a tree by a necktie; Claire didn't need that bit of description. She was bright, she would make the connection and know where his story was going.

"After he was gone, we kept trying to figure out why, because it didn't make sense. It didn't seem fair that someone like Jack was unhappy or dissatisfied with his life. It didn't change the fact that it happened." Megabyte rested his head against hers. "I don't think that it's ever fair or that it ever makes sense. It is all crap. I agree with you there."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and it was certainly more comfortable, if infinitely more sad, than the last silence between them. Somehow, in the face of this morning's tragedy, yesterday's tension between them seemed far away. Megabyte realized that Claire was doing her best to avoid looking out towards the reef, just as he was.

"I think we need a change of venue," Megabyte suggested quietly. "Let's take a walk or something. I promise, no strolls through the jungle today, just . . ." His gaze drifted towards the reef, and he looked away hurriedly. He gave her a close, platonic hug, then stood up and offered her his hands. "Come on, let's walk over to the stream. Or something. Maybe get you some breakfast.

"No arguments. I know you probably don't have an appetite, and I don't have one either, but you need to eat. Just a little something."

"Going through the motions, then?" Claire asked softly.

"Sometimes it's all we can do."

[Clarice] No luck, as usual (tag open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

No luck finding something useful to do getting the raft together with Ripley--Scott was there and they were talking and the very sight of him made Clarice tear up again and feel utterly helpless. /I am surrounded by people I thought were friends who turn out backstabbing or crazy or completely lacking in human compassion./ Shuddering, and knowing things still had to be done, Clarice waited until Ripley had noticed her, then hung her rope on a branch for them to use and walked off as quickly as she could.

Locke was watching her out of the corner of his eye; she headed for a patch of bamboo further down along the treeline and just did her best to hold it together. /Just concentrate on getting the goddamned poles together./

**/Calm down, baby./**

/I took the fucking Ativan, I'm functional, I haven't freaked out or attacked anyone, and I'm still working. If you expect me to feel good about this...nightmare...you're crazy, Daddy./

**/Maybe you should hit the sack once the body's dealt with. Get some rest. Check out of this for a while./**

/They should make Daisy get soaked to the bone and covered in bird shit and corpse mess retrieving Lucy's body. She's the one who let Lucy do it and then left the mess for everyone else to clean up. But nobody would listen to me if I suggested it./

She pulled out the little sawblade attachment from her multi-tool. It was crap for anything involving real wood, but it wasn't bad with bamboo. She started sawing at one of the biggest, heaviest stalks, her vision blurring and clearing and blurring again.

/Lucy's the lucky one today, that cowardly cunt. I can't help it. Right now I'm almost nothing but jealous of her freedom from this place./

**/Don't even think like that, baby. I already warned you--/**

/You're not the one having to live through this./

[Daniel] Intervention (tag Clarice, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Daniel watched Clarice disappear into the jungle with rope, then return a short time later without it. She marched sluggishly to the stream and began to attack the bamboo there with what was probably her utility knife.

(She can't handle this. As much as she wants to, she can't. And she's getting on that raft over my dead body.)

"I'm going to make a general announcement in a while," Daniel told those gathered around still, "But I'll leave it to Blaise to organize the raft building and body retrieval."

He didn't have a lot to say to Daisy at this point, and he wasn't going to say it in public as much as he might have wanted to. The woman's callousness and fatalism was not something that was going to go over well in the camp with the other survivors – or with him.

Excusing himself, he began making his way towards Clarice, only to be intercepted by Sayid. The Iraqi man handed Daniel two knives, sharper and far more useful than a multi-tool. Daniel did not ask where he'd gotten them from, but the man supplied the answer any way, "John Locke loaned them to me for the watch. I was going to return them when I saw the federal agent working there. These will be far sharper and will do a better job than what she is currently working with."

"Thank you, Sayid," Daniel said, accepting the knives.

"However, Daniel, while it is none of my business, it is my opinion that she should not be handling sharp weapons at all." Sayid paused, seemed to consider his next words. He spoke them in his native tongue, "This place is an enigma to us all. It is nothing that most of us have ever experienced and what most of us think as the irrevocable laws of nature are not applicable here. It is natural to break when you discover the world as you think you know it, is not truly the world, but only a façade. My journey with The Doctor, and the opportunity to see his 'ship' was eye-opening. Some would instead rather go blind or stay in the dark.

"Unfortunately, surviving here does not allow the option of remaining in the dark."

"You haven't told me anything that I haven't already figured out, Sayid," Daniel said honestly.

"I have heard that Faith and … George, I believe it is, will be going to salvage Faith's plane. Perhaps getting away from the camp will be a good thing for her."

"The jungle is just as dangerous."

"Yes, but we know those dangers. We know how to fight them, or how to avoid them. It is the other things that seem to blow up like strong winds that are unsettling."

"I'll keep it in mind," Daniel told the man. "Thank you, Sayid." He meant the last sincerely.

Sayid nodded and turned away, heading towards Ripley and the logs for the raft.

Daniel continued onto Clarice. She barely acknowledged his approach, even as he knelt beside her, lying the knives down beside him. He caught her wrists in his, "That's not helping," and quickly pried the utility knife from her hands before she could stop him.

He picked up one of the knives Sayid had given him and showed it to Clarice. "This will work better. Then after we're done with this, you will rest. When you've rested, we'll talk."

[Clarice] Intervention (tag Daniel, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

/That's it. I'm tired of this. I need his love and kindness, and he's playing Authority Figure./ Clarice glared at Daniel. "This is how you comfort broken-up people you supposedly care about?" she snapped, her eyes dangerously bright. "Sure, I'll talk to you--/when you're ready to act like my lover and not a bossy CO/. I n-need someone to be there for me and act like he actually cares, not stand over me barking orders!"

She sawed through the first stalk and lowered it clumsily to the ground, then started stripping it. "I can't go down to the beach anyway, that bastard Scott's there. So you're getting your wish regardless."

[Ripley] Charon's Boatwrights (tag Scott, Methos, open)

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

Ripley dragged two logs down to the high tide line near where Lucy's clothes had been found, and then went back for the others. She'd stayed quiet much of the time, not so much out of anger as out of a certain sense of awkwardness with the whole situation. Who really cared that some debutante had cracked under the strain and offed herself? She'd done nothing to contribute, and it was one less mouth to feed. But then again, perhaps Ripley was feeling pissy because everyone else cared so much--so much in the psychics' cases that they had freaked out--so Ripley had to pretend to care too.

She was also feeling...uncomfortable, somehow. A little dirty, a little suffocated--sort of a pacing-her-cage feeling. She took it out in physical labor, and soon enough had the logs lined up on the beach and was standing over them, considering. "Are these two lengths of rope going to be enough?"

Up the treeline, one of the bamboo stalks was shaking hard as Daniel's bodyguard sawed at it with all her not-considerable strength. It occurred to Ripley that the woman was acting kind of off, but at least she was getting them poles to maneuver the damn thing.

[Methos] Charon's Boatwrights (tag Ripley, Locke, Scott, open)

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

"I doubt it," Methos answered Ripley when she asked about the ropes. "I think the Marine, Blaise, had some rope too, but we could always use some vines, or cabling from the plane perhaps. There's always something."

He looked at her carefully, noting the play of emotions on her face and in her eyes. All the crash survivors (et al) were dealing with Lucy's death in their own way, but Ripley seemed somewhat removed from the grieving process. She wasn't a stranger to loss, of that he was certain, so perhaps she didn't understand why grief should apply to someone most of her friends here didn't care much for while she was alive?

Sidling closer, Methos lowered his voice. "It rarely matters who dies: mortals will grieve, regardless. Some more openly than others, some so little it's difficult to see. Where you fit along that scale is entirely up to you, but massacring those trees certainly gives the impression that you're not best pleased by Lucy's suicide - just like Agent Starling over there."

[Ripley] Charon's Boatwrights (tag Methos, Locke, Scott, open)

[hybrid-ripley.livejournal.com]

Ripley shrugged a little. "I am not pleased about the upset it's caused people in this camp," she said simply. "And...." she looked around. There was more, and she let her hesitation show clearly on her face so he'd get that. /More later/. She wasn't giving up her psychic friends, but some of the weird impressions she'd gotten during that explosion of anguish bore looking into.

"And people don't usually kack themselves with no reason."

She dug out the sand under the tips of the logs on one side and started lashing them together with Clarice's rope. "She doesn't like to be called Agent Starling anymore," Ripley said in passing. "Keeps correcting people with "It's just Clarice". Kind of weird. Anyway, of course /she/ is upset, she's an idealistic smoosh and she's already been having trouble."

One of the seagulls flew off from the general crowd with a bit of...something...in its beak, and Ripley was rather glad her eyes were the only ones sharp enough to see it.

"Kenzaki's off on a brood. Takes the whole thing as his own personal fault, apparently." Ripley shook her head, looking a little disgusted. "Not sure how flagellating oneself helps the situation. Is that some this-century thing?"

[George] The buck stopped here (tag Carlos)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Carlos wasn't angry about Daisy not trying to save Lucy; it was finding her himself and Daisy's blase attitude now. It wasn't as bad as she'd feared.

She glanced over at the pile of rope and other materials Sawyer had uncharacteristically donated to the cause. "I think they've got that covered," she said. George took Carlos' arm. "Come with me for a minute."

George walked away from the others. She glanced back at Daisy, who seemed content to endure the scorn of the others. "Daisy isn't going to say anything," she began. "In fact, she'd be pissed off if she knew I was going to say anything to you about it."

"I'm not terribly concerned about what Daisy wants," Carlos said, but George held up a hand and he subsided.

"I know," George said. "Daisy can be maddening sometimes. But... she didn't just leave Lucy's body and clothes for someone--for you--to discover. She was busy. Doing my job." She met his eyes, hoping he understood what she was saying, understood what being a reaper meant. "Doing our job."

[Carlos] The buck stopped here (tag George)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos blinked, and some of the tension left the set of his features. "Jesus," he muttered, understanding dawning slowly as he mulled the implications of being a Reaper and simply knowing that someone was going to bite it and you had to stand there and wait until it was done. That was worse than the helplessness of knowing someone was determined to die and that you couldn't stop them forever. And yet...at least Reapers got to /know/ that death wasn't the end of people. Like Carlos got to know, now, thanks to George. That reassurance...was an incredibly, incredibly precious thing right now...and it was something the rest of the beach simply did not have.

"Fine," he said finally. "I'll forgive her the body discovery then, sick as it made me feel.

"But...look, when even Sawyer gets squicked by someone's attitude, you know they're out of bounds, because normally the guy /professionally/ doesn't give a shit. That was...beyond cold. I mean...look at what she said did to people, and how little she cares. She's making a bad situation worse. Death may just be a job to her, but to the people here it's terrifying, confusing and threatening them daily. And they don't, unlike us, get to just /know/ that death is not the end. Just...couldn't she have had a little compassion for them? Just to pick her words more carefully?" His shoulders slumped just slightly, baffled unhappiness in his tone.

/Being a Reaper seems like a huge responsibility. I hope I get someone like George when I die, because when does a person need compassion more--in the form of tough love or not--then when they're dying? Hell, tough guy or not, knowing it's not the end or not, I'll be pretty goddamn scared./

"Jesus--look, forget it, baby. I don't mean to make this fucked up situation worse with my little bout of moral outrage." He sighed and gathered her into his arms, as much to dispel the bone-deep chill he was feeling as out of affection.

"If the logs and rope are dealt with, who's handling the poles?" he asked, looking around.

[George] The buck stopped here (tag Carlos)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George hugged Carlos back but didn't reply immediately. She couldn't argue with his observations. Daisy could be remarkably callous sometimes. It was an occupational hazard that George had fallen prey to herself on occasion. Daisy had many decades more experience at letting the horror and confusion and turmoil roll off her back, interacting mostly with other reapers, where war stories and one-upsmanship and that sort of dispassionate, clinical detachment was commonplace.

"Yeah," George said at last. "She could have handled it better. I'll talk to her," George added, though she doubted it would do much good.

George turned her head to look around without releasing Carlos from her bear hug. "I think...Clarice is working on the poles. Isn't that her wrestling with the bamboo over there? Maybe we should help her," George said. Clarice was still awfully fragile and some friendly assistance--or at least offers of assistance, since she might refuse--might make her feel better.

[Daisy] Pariah (tag Locke, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Well, that could have gone...better," Daisy said to John.

He was the only one still there. George had drawn Carlos away and they were having a quiet, serious conversation out of earshot of everyone else. Clarice had stormed off--but angry was better than broken and weeping, Daisy supposed. Daniel had followed her eventually, after a brief conversation with Sayid. Even Sawyer had given her a disdainful look--and not his usual "you're sadly amusing" disdainful look, but an expression of sincere contempt. That was a novel and unpleasant experience, being looked down upon by Sawyer of all people.

The last one to walk away had been Blaise. He'd studied Daisy carefully for a minute. The way his gaze flicked once to George and then back to Daisy with an appraising look told her enough. He'd overheard her conversation with George and worked out the meaning. Blaise had watched her, looking as if he wanted to say something.

"Yes?" Daisy had prompted him.

Blaise hesitated for a moment. Then, "I think I understand now what you did, and why," he said. "But you could have handled this better." He looked like he wanted to say more, but then he shook his head and looked around.

When he spoke to Daisy again, he had regained his brisk, soldier on the bounce persona. "I've got things to do," Blaise said. "I'll see you later. Daisy, John," he added with a nod. Then he headed off.

Daisy and John stood in silence for a minute. Daisy sighed. Yes, she should have handled it differently. Or at least been more discreet about talking to George. But she wasn't going to spill her secret just to make things easier. People would get over it or they wouldn't. John was the only person whose disapproval would really bother her, and he understood.

[Locke] Pariah (tag Daisy, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

Locke put one arm around Daisy and kissed the top of her head. "I suppose." He started moving toward the food stores. He, for one, was hungry. "Death is part of life. The longer we're here, the more people will understand that. I wish they'd appreciate what you and George do, and how hard it is."

[Tommy] The note (tag Blaise, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

Tommy walked to Lucy's shelter. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong, however irrational it was. The woman was dead. He wasn't going to rifle through her belongings. He just wanted to read the note. The "perps" Mara had mentioned needed to be identified.

Tommy spent all of 30 seconds in Lucy's shelter. The letter, neatly written on "Notes" page from a day planner, had been left on her bed. It was a simple list of who should receive which of her belongings. Unless Lucy had been truly demented, Tommy didn't think that she would have left anything to any of her tormentors. It whittled down the list of possible "perps" by a few. (Not particularly helpful.)

Leaving the note where he'd found it, Tommy strode to the cookfire. Daniel wasn't around, so he approached Blaise. The only others within earshot were Daisy and Locke, who were talking quietly. "Morning," he greeted the marine. Blaise returned it. Rather than bothering with smalltalk, Tommy got on with the uncomfortable subject. "About Lucy," he said quietly. Blaise nodded. "This hit Mara hard. She's very sensitive. I found her in the stream earlier, distraught. She felt some of what Lucy when through. She said that someone drove Lucy to take her life. If that's true, I'm worried that the 'perp' -- Mara's word -- might use this situation to their advantage."


OOC: sinanju, who's on the list? I was guessing Amanda and a few other women.

OOC: The List

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

I hadn't really decided. Let's say...Amanda, Zoe, Veronica, Chloe (NPCs and a couple of seldom-seen PCs--Lucy must have been hanging with a few people besides Ethan, Harry and Shannon). And she's just giving away a few pieces of clothing or shoes and a few make-up items.

[Daisy] The note (tag Tommy, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"That's possible, I suppose," Blaise said, watching Daisy and Locke. He shook himself faintly and faced Tommy. "But I doubt driving Lucy to suicide was the goal. I can't see what that would accomplish. I suspect it was an unintended consequence."

"Doesn't make the bastard or bastards any less guilty, but if I were them, I'd keep my head down for a couple of days. But we should keep an eye out anyway, just to be sure. If you see anything suspicious, let me know. And you might suggest the same to everyone you trust."

[Scott] Celebrating life (tag Ami)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

/Make love to me, please?/

Scott's body responded enthusiastically to Ami's request. /Gladly./

They kissed and touched for a while, taking advantage of the buoyancy the water provided. Eventually Scott moved them both to the part of the swimming hole where the water just covered his shoulders. He slipped behind Ami, holding her close while teasing her with his hands and nibbling her neck for a little longer. Then he slid into her, making them both moan with pleasure.

Scott didn't bother with his sphere. This was for Ami, and he wouldn't be able to concentrate on her and his sphere simultaneously. They moved together, slowly at first, then more rapidly as Scott fanned Ami's desire with his hands as well. Climax was sweet and intense; not as draining as other times, but Ami wasn't complaining. Still coupled together they floated in the cool water, content for now.

[Ami] Amusing Distractions (tag Scott)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Eventually Ami separated from Scott, turning so that she could wrap herself around him and see him as well. She was grateful for him, grateful to have found him and continued to be amazed at how he centered her and grounded her; how much he knew how to give her precisely what she needed. Ami kissed him tenderly, gently, letting her love and all of those wonderful feelings flow across their link, saying nothing because at the moment words seemed inadequate.

Scott hugged her close and returned her kiss with as much tenderness and love as she gave to him. When at last they parted, she laid her head on his shoulder, simply enjoying the serene calm and peacefulness of being with him and being in his arms. Eventually they'd have to go back to camp, but that time hadn't come yet.

Thinking of camp she had to force her thoughts to go in pleasant directions, and giggled as she stumbled upon some camp gossip that she hadn't yet shared with Scott and didn't think that he knew about.

"What's so funny?" Scott murmured in her ear.

Ami tilted her head back to look at him, loving that they could cling to one another in the water this way. "I just remembered something rather amusing. And a bit disturbing, but mostly amusing."

"So, spit it out," he tickled her sides with his fingertips, earning a laugh and a squeal as Ami tried to dart away, but failed as Scott drew her back to him.

"Ripley. And Dr. Pierson." She'd let him connect the dots.

[Faith] Burning Anger (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Faith stormed off from here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/68675.html?thread=2321987#t2321987).

Faith charged towards the jungle, her vision hazed and blurred by the curtain of red that swam in front of her eyes. The knowledge that someone had attacked a woman so brutally made her wish to commit violence in a way that she had not wanted to in a very, very long time. The Slayer within awakened, longing for the taste of blood and for something – anything – to visit harm upon. But there were no vampires, no demons, not even a pushy inmate who needed to be taught a lesson; just a beach full of innocents, all caught at a loss and unawares by a freak plane crash.

Her fast walk turned into a slow jog, which became a sprint by the time she hit the tree line. Faith ran as she hadn't since crashing on the island, heedless of where she went, only feeling the need to do something to appease the slayer need. She ran, jumping, leaping and climbing until running wasn't enough anymore.

An angry, almost inhuman scream erupted as her foot connected with the nearest tree. It wasn't just the rape; while that pissed her off beyond belief it was the knowledge that it had not happened once, but twice; the knowledge that some fucking animal was taking advantage of the situation for his own personal purposes.

The knowledge that death was too good for the son of a bitch, once she found him, fueled the repeated grunts and kicks as the tree began to splinter, bits of bark and wood flying around her. She alternated feet, twirling through the air, a virtual whirling dervish of destruction. Arms occasionally supplanted feet, open palms or fists colliding with the trunk or the overhead branches. Loud cracks and breaks were the accompanying music to her growls and cursing.

The flurry continued until the dangerous angry energy was spent, and even her slayer stamina began to give way. Slumping to the ground, covered in bark, tree splinters and wood sap, a fine film of perspiration making her clothes and hair stick to her, Faith took long draughts of air. Her ire remained, but at least she felt human again, like she could deal with people rationally.

It was definitely an improvement.

[Sayid] Seeing wonders (tag Faith, open)

[panteraonca.livejournal.com]

Sayid had seen Faith go running off into the forest, and knew at once that for all her seeming self-sufficiency, she should not go alone. Not now. Lucy was dead in a horrific way, one of Faith's friends had collapsed, the beach was in emotional tatters, and his bet was that she felt at least as helpless over the whole situation as he did.

He didn't normally get directly involved in the various emotional situations that erupted over the beach. It was not lack of concern; in fact, he was often deeply concerned. But he did not know these people, and had half a dozen reasons to keep quiet about himself and keep people at arms' length. So he stood stoically on the periphery, offering pointed suggestions here and there and occasionally mediating things.

Now, however, that was not what was needed. So when he saw her run for the jungle, he set down the impromptu paddle he was carving and hurried after her.

He was amazed by how fast she darted out of his sight once she hit the treeline. Shaking his head and saying something mildly uncharitable about stubborn women in Arabic under his breath, he picked up his pace. Her headlong rush was almost arrow straight, fortunately, and marked by broken branches and disturbed brush where she'd bulled her way through. /There is far, far more going on here than fallout from a suicide,/ he thought as he paused to pick up a snapped-off branch as thick as his arm.

He hurried on. By the time the sounds of effort and splintering wood reached his ears, he was puffing hard and his lungs burned. /What is she doing up there?/

He could hear strain and rage in her voice, but no fear, and no signs of anyone else. He paused there, catching his breath and occasionally hearing a gargantuan crash that startled him and made him really start to...wonder. /Ripley breaks trees. Everyone says she's just a master martial artist or similar, and that's why she disdains weapons and can destroy the local plant life. But this..../

He had to look. And so he crouched down and moved forward, using the cover of the brush and trees until he had a clear view of Faith--and what she was doing.

He froze. He stared. He tried to rationalize what he was seeing, failed utterly, and finally just shook his head and watched in wonder.

When she finally collapsed, he sucked in a breath, a look of concern crossing his face in spite of the incredible sight he had just taken in. Thinking quickly, he backtracked several yards...and then straightened and deliberately stepped on a twig.

"Who's there?"

Sayid walked over openly, pausing at the edge of the small clearing. His eyes were downcast, and his tone contrite. "My apologies. I saw you leave for the forest and...thought that this is not a time for any of us to be alone, especially...out here."

/What is she?/

"If you wish, I will leave you in peace."