[Ami] Letting It Loose (tag Scott, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Ami and Scott are coming from here.

Scott's words, meant to offer comfort, did very little in that vein. He didn't understand – he couldn't possibly understand – how her thoughts and feelings made her feel; how wrong she felt and how wrong it felt to think such things. She'd never in her life wished someone dead – other than Masters and Carlson – she hadn't even wished Richard dead for his part in that, but here she was, engineered right down to her DNA to be peaceful and she wanted to see Amanda punished.

She wanted the woman to suffer like George must have.

Everything was wrong. Right now, even Scott felt wrong to her, so cold and so detatched without the affection and warmth she was used to feeling from him.

This place was wrong. It and everything and everyone in it was screwed up and wouldn't it have been so much better if she'd just died in the crash? Then she wouldn't have to be here, dealing with blow after blow, crises after crises; plagued by monsters in the jungle and monsters on the beach. At least the ones in the jungle didn't pretend to be human, not like the ones on the beach.

None of it made sense. None of it was right and all of it was wrong. Hideously, horribly, terribly wrong. So wrong that she could feel it in her bones moving beneath the sand, trying to move into her body, into her blood and corrupt her.

It was all wrong.

A wind whipped up around her, blowing sand. Gently at first, then gaining strength and momentum, tiny clouds of dust billowing up around their feet, growing larger and larger, pulling driftwood and sea weed, rocks and stones, flinging them outward and spinning them upwards as the maelstrom of sand grew. Near and far, tent flaps and shelter flaps began to move and sway, stirring in the wind that came from every direction. Fruit floated into the air, tossed there and caught by unseen hands and the ground beneath their feet began to tremble ever so slightly.

[OOC: Yes, that is more than a wee bit of uncontrolled telekinesis. And any similarity to X3 is purely coincidental; Ami's ability, when unchecked like this is actually canon. At 14 or 15 she teleported two fellow Tomorrow People, the blanket they were lying on, shook the house to the foundations and did a lovely job of rearranging objects and furniture in the process.]

Comments

[Scott] Maelstrom (tag Ami, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

OOC: Maybe no one will notice tornado Ami and she won't be outed to the whole beach...

The flame that was Ami sputtered, then flared, pushing Scott's inhuman calm back like a shadow. As the wind spiraled and intensified he was torn between pulling the void back, where he was safe but cold and alone, or embracing Ami's fire.

(I won't be alone.)

Ami's emotion shattered the void into dark shards. Scott pulled Ami close as he threw their link open and the ground shuddered. Ami's despair and loathing coursed through him, dragging him down along with her. /Ami, stop, please! I can't lose you!/

[MB] Maelstorm (tag Ami, Scott, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Emerging from his tent, clothes changed and fully clothed enough to protect himself from the sun, as much as he could on a tropical beach, Megabyte felt it almost immediately. He would be hard pressed to explain to anyone what he felt or how he knew what it was, but there was no question in his mind that the ever increasing wind was not normal. It wasn't caused by nature, but by power - unchecked and veering definitely out of control.

The commotion near the tree line continued, but several people were beginning to look around the beach, running for cover as the unexpected dust storm kicked up. As far as he knew there was only one other telekinetic on the beach - and upset enough, scared enough or furious enough and she could definitely unleash mayhem.

(Not localized, thank God,) was Megabyte's first thought even as he instinctly turned and ran towards Ami. Not localized around her meant that maybe no one would notice that Ami was the cause of it. Maybe. But that wasn't his primary concern. This was mild, this was only a slight unleashing; he hoped that Scott could ground Ami before she did any real damage, (if Scott even knows how to ground her.)

(I am so sick of this fucking island.)

He deflected a large piece of driftwood telekinetically, not even stopping to look as it dropped harmlessly to the ground a few feet away, and continued on his path towards Ami.

[Ami] Maelstorm (tag MB, Scott, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

(Home,) Ami thought. If she tore the island to pieces, they'd all be free and they could go home. She felt the power surrounding her, and she relished it, releasing it in great waves the likes of which she hadn't done in years.

/Ami! Stop!/

(I'm going to take us home.)

/You're going to destroy the beach. You need to stop./

She shut Megabyte out. He didn't understand. He couldn't see how wrong this place was, how much it corrupted them all, how much it tried to destroy them piece by piece and bit by bit.

A flood of desperation, of fear, filled her. /Ami, stop, please! I can't lose you!/

Ami fought. Scott didn't understand. She was doing this for him, she was doing this for them.

The wind whipped wildly at her hair, her clothes, sand clouds rising up so large that vision was obscured. Something flew at her, through the sand, and with only a thought, she sent it sailing towards the ocean.

/Ami, please! I need you! I love you./

Warmth flooded her, pure, unadulterated warmth and love. It overwhelmed her and she turned to the source, sensing and seeing Scott. "Scott?"

The maelstorm lessened.

[Scott] Maelstorm (tag Ami, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

"Yes!" Scott cried, managing to hang on to his connection with his sphere in his pocket. That was the only way he'd been able to get through to her. The sphere amplified everything flowing across their link. Scott had nearly drowned in Ami's despair before she'd responded.

The world started spinning. (Or is it just Ami's whirlwind?) Scott ignored the sensation. It wasn't important now. /Please come back, love. We'll survive this place together. We'll move to the caves. Get away from these people. Together./

[aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com]

"Jin! Jin! We must hurry back! A cyclone is coming and it's a bad one. Bring the nets; I'll get your father!" Jin's mother was screaming at Jin, though he couldn't see her. He looked at the horizon and sure enough, he could see the darkening sky. He could feel it in his bones, this one was going to be very angry indeed. Jin jumped up from where he was repairing the nets and heard his mother again, "Jin, the box. Don't forget the box!"

/Box? What box was she talking about?/ Jin thought as he turned and turned in circles as if he were in the cyclone itself looking for a box. Suddenly, he saw it. Off to the side was a small shallow box with ornate designs on it. Jin reached for the box and...

...grabbed Sun's shoulder. Sun had a look of terror in her eyes. "Jin, what's wrong?" She asked, "What box are you talking about? What's going on outside? Jin...do you feel ok?"

Before he could respond, the trembling began. A soft earthly murmur that could have gone unnoticed except that Jin's state was hypersensitive at the moment. Jin decided to ignore Sun's questioning look. "Outside, we must go outside and see what's going on. Stay close to me."

They left the hut and looked around. It didn't take long to see the tornado forming on the beach. /But it's not a tornado. It's something else. Something far worse./ And that was the last thing Jin thought before he saw it. A large piece of flying debris heading straight for Sun. Jin could only react. The last thing he remebered as he pushed Sun out of the way was a horrifying mixture of pain, screaming, and the unearthly tremor rising to greet him in the darkness.

OOC applause

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

I'm lovin' this Jin storyline. :)

Re: OOC applause

[aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com]

ooc: thanks. and kudos to you and fikgirl for providing me with an awesome plot device! While I'm here, all you healer types, plotbunny: you can choose to heal or not heal jin, whatever. However y'all want to do that is fine with me. I won't generally NPC Sun, but she will be *sligthly pissed* at Ami for what happened in case anyone is interested. He's pretty messed up, head wound down to chest on his right side. If you heal him, he still will not wake up. He's pretty deep down, and for those that might think they can tell, being kept there for the moment. Aside from that, I'll work with whatever you throw at me.

Re: OOC applause

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

But, how does she know that Ami caused it? The island is a freaky weird place, you know, and there's a huge sand storm and several smaller ones all over the beach right now. Damn freaky weird island and its freak sand storms.

*snert*

Re: [Methos] Freak weather systems (tag Jin, open)

[aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com]

OOC: no problem with any of this (even with Sun only screaming for help and crying..more likely to happen with Korean stoicism anyway), but it just can't happen in Jin's hut. So can it just be assumed it happened outside or that Sun managed to drag his body from the storm to protection in a nearby hut? Sorry to be such a hassle about this minor detail. I'd really like the hut to be damaged to the point of unlivable until Jin wakes up. MUST get back to work!

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

Will fix :)

Happy working *bleh*

[Methos] Freak weather systems (tag Jin, open)

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

Methos exited the tent after George and Carlos, taking the machete with him. Locke would surely find a use for it - it might even be his. He ducked the various queries over George's well-being, pointed out that she was clearly alive despite whatever rumours they'd heard, and went in search of Jin.

That wind's picked up quickly, he thought idly, glancing over to where House was patching up Amanda. It was a while since he'd seen a jealous rage on this scale, but he'd done his bit for now. At least Faith wasn't hacking the woman to pieces. A palm leaf caught him around the ankles, closely followed by Walt's frisbee. Very quickly indeed.

Frowning, Methos looked around and saw the air twisting into several fierce dust devils that seemed to be growing in size as he watched. Bad, very bad. And certainly not natural. A piece of debris came swirling towards him, but his attempt to dodge was hampered by an earth tremor - slightly more natural.. perhaps.. The sharp edge cut across his neck painfully, causing more fright than he'd known in centuries, but as ever his Quickening sealed the wound without a trace - or so he hoped. It wasn't unknown for Immortals to scar on the neck.

He drew the collar of his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth, ploughing on towards the Kwons' shelter up ahead. The majority of airborne debris was relatively non-lethal and their shelter was surely big enough for three.. Ah. Oh dear. The hut wasn't looking so sturdy any more, and the sight of Sun crouched over Jin's body was as unwelcome as George's not so long ago. Damned fragile mortals.. why couldn't Harry get sliced rather than the camp's best fisherman? There really was no justice in the world, and the large chunk of metal embedded in a nearby tree told him all he needed to know.

Methos lifted Sun's hands and makeshift dressings gently to examine the wound, softly praising her quick thinking, then pulled out the bottle of anaesthetic Jin had passed him earlier on. The irony was astounding, but there was no time to waste navel-gazing - although there was the one blessing that it had been a clean cut.

Together they cleaned out the wound and sewed up some of the deeper sections. Sun frowned at Methos constantly, as if she wished to say something but held back because she knew she wouldn't be understood (not strictly true, but not even this incident could change the habit of a lifetime). Either way she seemed to realise that he'd already used up his best dressings on George's [fake] injuries, tearing up one of her own summer dresses and holding her husband in place while Methos bandaged his head and chest. When they were done the world seemed like a much quieter place, and Methos couldn't help but smile when she cradled Jin's head in her lap while the 'doctor' leaned against the tree trunk and yawned.

"Oh look, the sandstorm has passed," he mumbled tiredly. "How nice."

P.S. As far as I remember, Ripley's the only person who knows Methos' real name. A few others know bits and pieces about his immortality, but generally speaking the old fart's still in hiding :)

OOC: grr, sorry

[aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com]

That's right, he's Dr. Adam Pierson. I forgot. I'll get it straight.

[Mara] Eumenides (tag open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara whimpered as she felt the wave of energy and anguish from the beach. /Oh, this place is like some waking nightmare,/ she thought. She knew she couldn't do a thing for Ami that she hadn't already done--namely, absenting herself from the scene, as far out of rage from the emotional maelstrom as possible, so Ami and Scott wouldn't have to spend a ton of time nursing her back from the complete brink again. But...it didn't help that much. She knew now exactly what it felt like to be raped in a variety of ways, and exactly what it felt like to be stabbed to death by a rusty machete and then have it left buried in her chest. She'd learned everything she wanted to know about life at that camp, and now all she wanted to do was get away from it forever.

"Kid. Hey. Kid. You still with me? No goin' all glaze-eyed again."

"Why not?" Mara looked up from where she was curled like a child on the tall woman's lap. The Dragon was strangely good at being maternal. It made Mara wonder.

"Because you won't come back, and you and I both know it. How the heck am I gonna explain that to your friends? I'm supposed to be tryin' to help out, here."

"I'm sorry. I just...I don't want to be here."

"Well, your ass will still be here even if your mind's off in la-la land, which will leave you even more vulnerable. So, no, sorry. Not gonna let you."

"I guess I should thank you, though I really wish you'd let me slip away."

"Yeah, well, I'm a real bitch sometimes."

Mara was silent for a while, but kept her eyes open, watching the curtains of flowers sway in the sunlight. Ripley kept bringing her water, but she couldn't keep food down again. "I...was remembering 'The Eumenides'. It's an Edith Wharton poem."

"Do you remember it?"

"I...think so."

"Tell me." Ripley seemed determined to keep her present in the world, conscious, talking. Mara resented it a little, but understood it, too.

Mara sat back and closed her eyes, searching for words amid a storm of emotion.


"Think you we slept within the Delphic bower,
What time our victim sought Apollo’s grace?
Nay, drawn into ourselves, in that deep place
Where good and evil meet, we bode our hour.
For not inexorable is our power.
And we are hunted of the prey we chase,
Soonest gain ground on them that flee apace,
And draw temerity from hearts that cower.

"Shuddering we gather in the house of ruth,
And on the fearful turn a face of fear,
But they to whom the ways of doom are clear
Not vainly named us the Eumenides.
Our feet are faithful in the paths of truth,
And in the constant heart we house at peace."

Ripley listened with her head cocked, and then smiled a little. "That's pretty. It's a Greek myth, right? The Furies."

"The Kindly Ones. They are kind to kind people, and only show their other face to the guilty. That's what the poem's about." Mara sighed and toyed with a strand of her her hair. "It's not true, though. The innocent always get punished worse than the guilty."

"Yeah, I was pretty flattened too when I first learned that sad little fact about the galaxy. That was a long time ago, though. I was...different."

"Human."

"...yeah."

"I can't reconcile it. I've gone from being glad we came to the camp to wishing Faith had told the Doctor's crew to fuck off. I...it's so horrible."

"I guess it is, if you have to feel every single little part of it. Me, I'm lucky that way. Thick skin."

"Not /too/ callous, though."

"Nah. Not my style."

"I don't want to go back to the camp," Mara said, and when Ripley sighed, her voice took on a pleading tone. "No, please. There's a rapist there, and a blackmailer, and a murderer, and I always have to feel it when they hurt someone...."

"Look, honey, I get exactly where you're coming from, but you can't just absent yourself from camp. It's not safe."

"It's not safe in camp!"

"Ok, true enough. Look. I'll stick with you here for a while, and then try and get someone else to take a shift with you for a while while I get your stuff. We're hitting the road soon anyway, right?"

"Yeah. Ripley?"

"Huh?"

"The Eumenides. The way they punish people. They don't kill them.

"They drive them mad."

[Jon] Bang bang (tag Kenzaki, open)

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

Jon watched House patching up Amanda's nose with a sense of controlled rage and frustration. This island was becoming too Lord of the Flies for his liking, no fucking structure and no damn morale - no morals either, if recent events were anything to go by. Shouting all that crap about other possibilities was all well and good, but he couldn't hide from the fact that he'd love to beat the crap out of Amanda too. She was the only target they had.

His gaze switched to George then, up and walking around with only the barest hint of injury. Sure she was leaning on Carlos, but that looked more like emotional support than anything else. Jon didn't buy it. He'd seen that machete rammed through her breastbone and came to the same conclusion that anyone with half an ounce of sense would, with or without all the blood. Maybe those stories about her being some kind of Grim Reaper were true, kooky as it sounded.

Blinking as some sand whipped into his face, Jon shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted for a better look at the camp. More sand blew up, causing him to turn away. A fruit of some kind smashed against his back, wet and painful. What was this, a fucking whirlwind? It sure as hell felt like it. Gah! At least the rain came in handy now and then!

Jon ran towards House and his patient half-crouched, figuring that the cranky doctor didn't have a hope in hell of undoing those knots he'd tied. He could deal with leaving Amanda out in a sandstorm, he realized callously, but the limping medic wouldn't make it to the trees unless he was carried.. though looking at the way Kenzaki was tugging the guy's arm, that might be more likely that it sounded.

"Do you want a full body rash?" he yelled above the wind, stumbling as the ground shuddered. Earthquake? What the fuck - oh hell, I give up.. "Christ, House, you've chosen a really bad time to get concerned about your fucking patients!"

He pulled out his multi-tool and dropped to his knees behind the prisoner, noting that she was still unsconcious. Great on one hand - it kept the bitch quiet - but crap if he was going to have to drag her to the trees. Might just roll her face down on the ground.. Changing his plan Jon sliced the lines holding Amanda to the tree, leaving her wrists tightly bound as he pushed her onto her front and followed suit. It might not be as good as true shelter, but good enough when the winds were this fucking strong.

Then the whirlwind stopped. Sand simply fell out of the air rather than flailing his exposed skin to shreds, along with all kinds of flotsam and jetsam. The air felt unnaturally still in comparison to the havoc of moments ago.

"I'm gonna sack the weatherman," Jon groused, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at the world before rolling onto his back and scrubbing his face tiredly. The moan beside him deserved a snort. "The Wicked Witch of the West awakens. Welcome back. Wha-? Hey, STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Fuck fuck fuck!

Amanda must have regained consciousness during the sandstorm, he realized belatedly, then waited to see how well-guarded she was before making a break for it. Her hands might still be tied, but her legs sure weren't.

Belting after the woman, Jon drew his gun. Crazy bitch or not, Amanda was not going to get away and he wasn't willing to test Kenzaki's speed on this one, nor anyone else's. "Stop or I'll shoot!"

Fuck, would he? After all that crap with the boar the other day? Yes, he would. Just.. not.. "Last chance!"

No response.

*BANG*

Down she went, caught in the thigh. Right where he'd aimed, Jon congratulated himself with hollow satisfaction as he slid to a stop beside the screaming cow and shoved Amanda's face in the sand - broken nose and all - sitting on her back while waiting for anyone else to catch up.

"Oh dear, does that hurt? Exercise'll do that if you're not careful," he spat, grabbing her good leg when she tried to kick him. "Fucking deathwish fucking island."


OOC: um, oops? *innocence*

Re: [Jon] Bang bang (tag Kenzaki, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

(OOC: Clarice wakes from her drug-induced stupor long enough to make squee noises and say "there ain't a goddamn thing wrong with your aim, boy! ^.^ Well, no, not really, but....)

OOC

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

cheers teach! :)

[Quentin] Bang bang (tag Jon, Kenzaki, open)

[rwarner.livejournal.com]

"Last chance!" Jon shouted at Amanda, levelling the 9mm pistol at her. Scarcely two seconds later, he pulled the trigger.

BANG

Amanda went down like a sack of potatoes, screaming her fool head off the whole way. Jon was all over her in a blink, making absolutely certain that she wasn't going anywhere.

Quentin had taken cover in the treeline not far from where Amanda had been lashed - the sudden sandstorm had come and gone almost before he had realized there was a danger. The gunshot brought him completely out of his pondering at the source of the sudden weather changes. Turning in the direction of the muzzle report, Quentin almost fell over in shock at seeing a teenager holstering a pistol with a lot more ease than one would expect out of a boy his age.

"What is your fucking problem!! You SHOT me!!!" bawled the fallen entitle-bitch. "Where does a fucking KID get a fucking GUN?!?!"

Quentin was thinking the same thing as he reached the scene at about the same time as Dr. House, whom had been led away from the sandstorm by Kenzaki. "Not that I don't applaud your actions, but she does make an excellent point," Quentin said, addressing Jon. "I imagine that you have good reasons for packing, but I don't know that the rest of the huddled masses are going to be nearly as understanding at the idea of a teenager being armed."

"I don't want to interrupt your little interrogation," House quipped at the two, "but if we don't do something quickly, this woman is going to bleed out here on the beach. You seem to have come very close to her femoral artery, if the amount of blood is any indication."

Quentin couldn't agree more with the physician. "We should get her to the infirmary," he said, looking at Jon.

[Jon] Bang bang (tag Quentin, Kenzaki, open)

[sophiedb.livejournal.com]

Jon tried so hard not to glare at Sideburns, but it was damned difficult. This was why he'd kept the firearm out of sight until absolutely necessary. "Yeah, well the teenager with a gun hasn't shot or threatened anyone who didn't deserve it and I'm not exactly advertising the fact that I'm armed, unlike Dr Slice-n-Dice over there."

He looked down at Amanda's leg and shrugged in House's direction.

"Ok, we can carry her to the infirmary," he agreed with Quentin. "How 'bout I take the legs?"

"Don't you fucking TOUCH me!" Amanda snarled.

"Hey, you want to bleed out, that's fine by me. Actually -" Jon tore off the bottom of his over-sized shirt and wrapped it round her upper leg tightly, still sat on the small of her back for good measure. This was almost as bad as one of those rodeo machines. "There you go, wasn't that nice of me?"

"Fucking asshole."

"Maybe not," Jon smirked as he stood. "Let's go then."

OOC: presumably Quentin, Jon et al can next be found over here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/72046.html).

[Carlos] Making their escape (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

"Jesus." Something freaky was happening again, and Carlos had absolutely fucking no time for it. /Get George away from this. Let that pencil-pusher and his too-loyal-to-smack-him-into-shape cronies deal with it./ He had their meager belongings and the rolled-up shelter tied to his back with his rope, and was lugging along with George in his arms--now staggering with each step as he tried to make the treeline.

He made it--barely--and the wind was cut significantly right away. Although...watching a handful of pebbles drift past as if loaded with helium did absolutely nothing for his currently shaky mental state.

He headed for the stream, moving deeper into the jungle as he walked, trying to keep his mind on the business of taking care of George. Nothing else. Not now.

[George] Making their escape (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George stared at the floating pebbles as Carlos carried her past them, wondering what the hell was up with those. She didn't have a clue, and no mental energy to spare to try to figure it out. Chalk up another weird mystery for the island.

Once they reached the treeline, George tried to get Carlos to put her down. It wasn't like she couldn't walk, after all. But he was stubbornly intent on carrying her. Taking care of her seemed very important to him right now, and truthfully? She liked it. It was very comforting and made her feel special. So she didn't struggle too hard.

When they reached the stream and Carlos finally set her on her feet again, George hugged him tightly for a long time, as much--this time--for his mental health as for hers. Then she stepped back and gave him as natural a smile as she could manage under the circumstances. "Time to get cleaned up, I think," she said.

George stripped her clothes off, including--after a brief glance in the direction of camp--the bandages. (Screw it,) she thought. (I've got more important things to worry about--like my boyfriend.) Still, she expected visitors eventually. Neither she nor Carlos knew how to find the crash site. Faith or Mara would have to lead the way eventually.

But that was later. Right now, she desperately wanted a bath. George waded out into the stream, still a little chilly this early in the morning. She put a little extra hip action into her walk, trying to imitate Faith. Not that she could compete with Faith for sheer voluptuousness or attitude, but if it got Carlos thinking about more pleasant things, that would be good. If he joined her, so much the better.

George dunked herself in the stream, then came up again, wiping her eyes, noticing the faint pink tint of the water washing downstream. Lovely. She glanced at Carlos, giving him her best lascivious smile.

[Carlos] Making their escape (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos's mind was racing as he stood watch over George. He took her clothes and bandages as she undressed, enjoying the shock/relief of finally physically seeing her with *whole* skin again even more than seeing her with bare skin at all.

Ironically, she seemed to be recovering from the whole mess faster than he was. But then again...she'd gotten over the whole "dead" thing, and he..../I challenge anyone to get an intimate view of their sweetie's internal organs (and most of her blood supply) outside the context of a Cesarean and not go completely nuts./

George's smile was inviting, and he knew he should go to her, but even with a lovely nude lady in front of him he was...it was like part of his mind was still bracing himself for "I'm sorry, we couldn't save her" like any other guy would have to be doing at this moment. (Well, except for Locke.) Part of his mind was still wrapped up in frustrated outrage, horror, and shame, and he...well, he couldn't say sex was entirely the furthest thing from his mind, being that there was a naked George about, but....

Still, he didn't want to disappoint her, so he shucked his makeshift pack, took off his boots and shirt and made a neat pile of their clothing on top of the stack. She seemed a little disappointed that his BDUs didn't join the pile, but...he knew it was gonna be one step back to "normalcy" at a time anyway.

He waded out and came up behind her, taking up handfuls of water and scrubbing her back. He refused to show how much getting her blood on his hands horrified him. /She's still here. Just keep that in mind. She's still here. But she suffered so fucking badly at that bitch's hands that a normal person wouldn't be. *I* was lucky that she could regenerate. That's all it is. Luck./

/(Thank you, God. Except for the whole her getting horribly stabbed with a rusty machete, anyway.)/

They knelt down in the water and he started washing her hair, gently running his fingers through it as he dribbled water down the strands. The water came out red, and red, and red, and his fingers trembled a little but he kept working until it was pink and then clear and he had finger-combed out the tangles.

He was oddly silent, mostly because he had no idea what to say or how to make this better except to keep taking care of her.

"I saw you," he said quietly as he worked on her hair. "I s-saw what she did to you. I don't hurt women. But this...God. I'm torn between feeling like a thug and wishing I'd killed her outright. If you didn't regenerate, I know I would have.

"I'm just so sorry I wasn't there."

[Kenzaki] Wandering (tag Ami, Scott, open)

[estirose.livejournal.com]

Kenzaki had, upon making sure everything was (more or less) getting taken care of, found himself restlessly roaming through the forest. He had the need to protect something, and everybody was either protected or not wanting protection.

He chanced upon the cave that he'd seen Ripuri on top of one night, peeked, and saw Sukotto-san and Ami-san inside. Sensing that perhaps they needed to be alone, like him and half the camp, he waved at them briefly.

[Scott] Wandering (tag Ami, Kenzaki, open)

[starborn-scribe.livejournal.com]

Scott sat beside Ami, who was almost dozing, when he thought he heard something outside. He tensed, watching the entrance to the cave warily. /It's Kenzaki, love,/ Ami murmured.

The Japanese man stepped into view soon afterwards, giving them a friendly wave. /Do you mind company?/ Scott asked Ami.

/That's fine. Might sleep, though./

Scott grinned at Her Sleepiness, then turned to Kenzaki. Kenzaki-san, join us if you like.

[Kenzaki] Wandering (tag Ami, Scott, open)

[estirose.livejournal.com]

Kenzaki smiled and accepted Sukotto-san's invitation. "I apologize for intruding," he said politely as he came into the tree-cave. Even if Sukotto-san didn't quite understand the words, Kenzaki hoped the sentiment translated.

It was peaceful inside the cave, quite a difference from the havoc outside at the camp. Kenzaki could see why Sukotto-san had done what he had done in this place, and why Sukotto-san and Ami-san had taken refuge there.

Sukotto-san wasn't precisely normal, Kenzaki knew, but that was all right. Neither was he.

(OOC: Kenzaki almost intruded into one of Scott's calls home, which is what he references here.)