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 Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 10:02 am
On Route to a New Life In which Alcine encounters the people who she will soon know very well...Alcine Winters As a senior member of her school's photography club, Alcine got to go on many a trip that others didn't get the chance to do, and it's not that surprising to think that she took every chance she could to go somewhere. Did it matter that she was on a barge with almost nothing to photograph? Of course not! The girl could find interest in almost everything, and of the hundreds of pictures she could take on a single trip, some of them had to be good. Coming up on deck with camera at the ready, Alcine wasn't surprised to see that some of the people had congregated in a group: people got bored, and common factors allowed for easy conversation. Lifting the camera to take a few shots, she lowered it when she realized that the situation wasn't casual, it was belligerent. A fight on a boat? Were they nuts?! Trying to pretend she hadn't seen the group, Alcine made short work of documenting everything she could: from the sky to rusty bolts up close to a seagull that had landed on one of the rails to rest. Most of the time, she would use a digital camera, but every so often she would wrestle out an Instant Polaroid camera from her pocket, snapping a shot that she felt would look better done the old fashioned way. So engrossed was the girl by her hobby that she didn't notice that she had neared the group that had been fighting. As Alcine had rather poor balance and a lack of sea legs to boot, the slightest swell sent her stumbling backwards, right into the black-haired boy. Tumbling on the deck, she finally stopped with a thud on her butt, her two cameras cradeled near her stomach to prevent damage. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she responded hurriedly to the boy, getting to her feet. She didn't seem to be hurt anywhere, but she didn't know how he was feeling, and offered a hand to help him up. "You gonna be okay?" Torian Grey Ian shot a nasty glare in the girl's direction. "Watch your mouth, you little stereotypical prep," the boy snapped irately at her, his fist balling up beside him to resist what little temptation he had. Of course, despite the body language he was shooting off into the air like fireworks, even if she were to settle a blow into his stomach, or slapped him, he wouldn't lay a hand on her.
It would just give him more reason to humiliate and insult her, if she did. He had a whole arsenal of insults forming in his mind, already.
"Chivalry's annoying and just plain, stupid." Ian grumbled underneath his breathe as he brushed away a few strands of black hair agitating his eyes. " Understandable for a life, but hell. What's the point of getting a black eye over a stupid argument that you interfere in." Opening his mouth to speak again, to let loose some retort of some sort, he was slightly thrown off though.
"You're kidding, right?" Ian laughed," You seriously wore a thoasand dollar suit on a boat, of all places? Are you insan--?"
Without warning, he found himself completely speechless for a brief moment as he felt another mass slam into him, sending him flying off his feet to the floor. A short groan escaped him as his stomach did another set of somersaults, and something began to seep up his throat, but he quickly forced it back with a reluctant gulped.
"Hey! Watch where you're go-" Ian snapped, rubbing his head irritably, opening his eyes to see who the culprit was who had knocked him down. For a moment, his words tied themselves up within his throat as he gazed, wide-eyed at the blonde-haired girl, slightly shocked for some reason or another.
"Oh-" Ian started, his words still rather 'flabbergasted' by her, but he shook his head, and an agitated stare formed below his brow. "Hmph. I'm fine," He grumbled as he ignored her amicable hand, and levied himself upon his wrists to stand up. But, unfortunately, the boy suddenly winced, hearing a short snapping sound that sent his ears completely nuts. "Ouch," Ian murmurred underneath his breathe, groaning as he shifted his weight to his other hand and made as much of an attempt as he could to hide the fact that something had fractured itself within his wrist. It slightly hurt to move it--but it had already numbed itself. Most likely, he'd just agitated the already-healing bone from a previous stupid stunt, and again, managed to hurt it.
Once on his feet, Ian couldn't help but do much more with his wounded wrist than cradle it in his other hand, but he made a noticeable attempt to conceal that fact. But it hardly mattered to him-he'd broken many bones before. This was nothing, really.
"This is stupid," Ian snapped, finding a reasonable excuse to leave. He'd hate for attention than he'd want simply because he'd hurt his wrist. "I don't know why I even bothered with you people; egotistical stuck-ups annoy me to death."
And with that, Ian turned on the heel of his foot, and quickly darted off in the opposite direction up to the main deck.
There was obviously nothing interesting down there--
Well. For the most part.
Hailey Elizabeth Santoro Amber orbs rolled in their sockets, the suit Leonard wore was maybe a thousand dollars but it wasn’t Armani! ‘Besides, what idiot would wear such an expensive thing--’ Her train of thought was interrupted casting a subtle glance at her own clothing attire. Dark green blazer with a cashmere long sleeved collar shirt, designer jeans and shoes…thank God she didn’t say her comment out loud otherwise she would be considered a hypocrite--something no one wanted to be while out and about in public.
Side stepping a little to let Leonard go--with a thought of ‘good riddance’ crossing her mind--did another insult come her way. Amber orbs narrowed, she was not a stereotypical prep! Just because she was rich, pretty, wore elegant clothing and had attitude didn’t mean she was classified as a prep. Besides, were they in high school? They were living in the real world where either you were working to attain power or had that power all ready in your grasp. Hailey was in the latter of the two groupings while the youth simply fell to the other.
Normally she would’ve said something harsh covered with sicken sweet sarcasm but thanks to earlier events and on coming headache did she keep her mouth shut for the time being. Still she couldn’t help but wonder briefly if she acted in such a way when she was younger. ‘Sarcastic, brash, huge attitude…a little bit of what I was at his age.’ She thought till a certain girl decided to make quite an entrance. A chuckle escaped the older woman seeing how the younger girl had tumbled back into the punk youth.
“Way to go hun, did what I wanted to do.” She said lightly, tucking a strand of her hair behind an ear. So much for keeping her mouth shut for a while, but that was Hailey for you. One minute content with one idea and the next changing everything around. Deciding this particular scene was getting a bit too much for did she cast another glance around. There had to be some other place for her to be--and when the hell would they get to their final destination? She would go talk to the captain of the ship, see if she could ‘convince’ him or her to speed things up a bit.
“Thank you for standing up for me.” Her eyes looking directly at Aiden, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Hope you do feel better and you…” A hint of concern was in her voice, it wasn’t every day some random stranger stood up for her--unless they were influenced by a few Benjamin’s. Now with her eyes cast to the punker did they narrow a bit. “And dealing with the stereotypical wannabe badass, individual or punker is all fun and dandy for the rest of us.” Her words were cold as steel on a foggy morning, she didn’t care if the boy snapped back at her. If he wanted to have a war with words then he could bring it on.
With that said the woman turned on her heel to walk away from the scene and look for the Captain to talk some sense in to him or her. Aiden Marlowe Aiden glowered at Leonard. Thousand dollar suit...who wore one of those on a cargo ship anyways? Aiden never really cared much for people who flaunted their money. He had money too, and he came from a rich family to boot, but he- in his khaki short and green tank top- wasn't one to flaunt it.
Money just wasn't that important to the red-head.
He huffed a bit at Leonard's comment. "Compassion isn't the same as a selfless deed. You should pick up a dictionary sometime. There are no selfless deeds, that much I agree on, but there is a such thing as compassion. I wouldn't expect you to understand though." he muttered, shaking his head.
He'd let him go this time. No insults, no surprise tackles. He could go if he wanted.
He frowned at the boy that had showed up. He was rubbing Aiden the wrong way right off the bat. He just shook his head at his comment about chivalry, though.
"Because sometimes what's right and honorable...is more important than being decked. Plus, I know how to fight anyways." he said, flashing him a wry grin. He grin faded though as he continued. "It's hard to explain why, especially to someone with a viewpoint as yours. But sometimes...you don't need to know why, or invent complex explanations, only that you feel the way you do." That last part was more an open remark than anything. A reflection, as it were.
Aiden was feeling drained and sick again. But he put on a brave face and a slight grin. He leaned back against the railing behind him, clutching it mostly for support.
He had to suppress a chuckle when the boy was promptly knocked over by a girl. Karmatic justice, he figured. He watched him eventually flee, and didn't stop him either. Let him go.
At the woman he had defended from Leonard, he gave a sort of modest smile, blushing a bit.
"It was no big deal, miss." he said, rubbing the back of his head. "And I'm feeling better already." That last part was a bluff but ah, no one needed to know that. "You take care!" he called after her, watching her leave.
Finally, he addressed the younger girl that had mowed the boy down. He arched a brow as he eyed her camera.
"Photographer, I see." he remarked. He did have a deep appreciation for the arts, especially photography. Alcine Winters "Oh, uhm, okay," Alcine called out to the boy, noticing the way that he held his injured hand. She wasn't going to push for him to head to the clinic, but since he was leaving, she tried to make herself believe that he was headed there on his own. As the woman sarcastically commented, Alcine shrugged a bit, but her eyes still seemed worried. "I didn't mean to push him over: it was an accident, really." She looked from the woman back to the other boy, who by now was already gone to another level. Perhaps she should have said sorry again. But apparently the girl now had other things to attend to: since she'd quite literally stumbled on the group of people, it would seem that they were all beginning to leave. Had she done something wrong? Looking from person to person as each one left, her brow furrowed, and only when the red-head inquired about her camera did she snap out of her worried and glance down, a smile creeping on her face. "Oh, yeah...just doing some things for school, taking some basic shots to give the newbies an idea of what to look for." Putting her equipment in one hand, she held out the other to be shaken in a friendly gesture, grinning as she said, "Alcine, senior photographer for Middleview High." Locally, the school was well known, better known for it's pre-college programs and difficult curricula. Looking the man up and down, she knew that it was unlikely that he would be in high-school as well, or rather unfortunate, in any case. "So, what're you on this rust bucket for?" Aiden Marlowe Aiden smiled at the girl, hoping he didn't look like too much of a mess. At worst, he probably looked a little on the pale and drained side. At best, he looked tired. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. At least his headache was beginning to ebb away- that'd leave him with one less thing to deal with.
"Ah, a school project of sorts...it sounds interesting. Have you gotten any good shots?" he asked curiously. He took the girl's hand and gave it a brief shake. "Nice to meet you, Alcine. Ah, that's a nice name, too. My name's Aiden. You know, I majored in art at college, with a minor concentration in photography." he remarked. He wasn't bragging, just commenting on the subject at hand.
He released Alcine's hand, still smiling faintly. He leaned back against the rail again and reached up to adjust his goggles, the action being more out of habit rather than it was from the need to actually fix the accessory. He looked up at the sky for a bit, before returning his gaze to the girl to answer her second question.
"Vacation, mostly." he said, waving a hand nonchalantly. "My family dragooned me into it...they, ah, said it would be good to get my mind off certain things." he said, casting his eyes downward as he said the last part, casually omitting the part about his depression and the likes. No need to let someone into his box that quickly...particularly a high school student.
He sighed and looked up quickly, forcing a smile and small laugh. "It'll be good for some inspiration for my art too. Sometimes a change in scenery can really help. I actually have a camera down in my suitcase...though it's not a professional thing, or as nice as the equipment you have. Just a small digital to take pictures 'for fun', as it were. Or to capture my subject matter I'm trying to sketch...in case the light source moves or something." he explained. "My sister gave it to me before I left as a gift for my trip." Alcine Winters Alcine's smile widened as she heard that the man majored in art, and even further when he mentioned a minor in photography. Finally, someone on this boat who understood her hobby! When asked about the shots she'd taken, she grinned sheepishly, just a tad embarassed. "Uhm, well, they're not very good..." She responded, holding up a few of her instant photos. A passing gull, the ocean rippling with activity from a school of fish, a pair of workers heaving up a box of cargo...all of them must have been taken that day, or on a coincidentally similar experience. Done showing her small collection, Alcine shrugged off the bag holding her camera gear and hid the photos away from later, also placing the cameras inside. She wouldn't need them for a conversation. "Vacation, eh? Are you sure your family didn't mean to book you on a cruise or something? I've got a feeling that the Caribbean would be a tag more scenic than this." Alcine was no master of sarcasm, but being a teen she had some control over it, and offered the man a joking smirk. "Unless, of course, you're into watching big old boxes and a nice, easy pace across the ocean." Laughing, her gaze went out to the sea, and she batted at her hair with an idle hand to get it back in place. "So what do you look for in photos? People? Scenery?" She left the question open: she wanted an opinion from her idea of a 'professional'. Aiden Marlowe Aiden leaned forward and checked out the pictures. They weren't bad, and he found them quite quaint, actually. He smiled and gave a warm chuckle. he was just as excited to have someone to talk to about art and photography.
"I think they're nice. Sometimes...it's the little things that make the best pictures. Some photographer see not artistic merit in something a simple as a tile or a lightswitch, because it's not flamboyant or 'interesting' enough. And it's true to a point...you can't go around taking pictures of just any random objects. Like any piece, it has to have composition and substance. But I think sometimes the little things mean the most. This world isn't entirely comprised of the big things, you know...it's a mixture of both big and little. Anyone can photograph a major event. But giving importance to something mundane takes real talent." he said earnestly, leaning back as the girl turned to put away her camera and photos.
He laughed at her next remark and sighed. "You'd think so. But my family has a funny sense of humor. I suppose they figured a cruise would only coddle me." It was probably true. He had a feeling his sister knew that had he been on a Caribbean cruise, he have spent most of his time at the ship's bar. She knew him too well, sometimes. "Sometimes, to clear your head and be properly inspired, you need a kick in the tail and a firm shove, not constant tending." he elaborated.
Maybe a cruise would have afforded him the relaxation and comfort he needed, but it would have also babied him and fed his sulking. Even though it made sense, he really would have preferred the babying. Ah well.
"What people look for in photos is subjective, my dear. It all depends on who it is. When I'm taking photos for more than just to capture a scene for later sketching...I tend to like pictures of abandoned buildings." He blushed a little feeling sort of silly. "Those buildings...ravished by time...they have such a haunting beauty to them. You can tell there's history in every step, every stone. Old mills, old hospitals, old houses, old bunkers, even- all of them long abandoned...they're my favorite subject matter."
He was clearly enthralled about the subject. He turned slightly to gaze out across the sea as well, remembering the times he'd snuck into the old mills and abandoned buildings around town with just his old instant camera around his neck.
"But I suppose, subject aside, it's about composition. The balance, lighting, and the substance and emotion all have to work together to form a great photo. It's not something you can force either. It has to come naturally and just flow. I mean, you can force it, I suppose, but it'll have that forced and unnatural feeling to it if you do. It's the things that come easily and naturally, the things that are sometimes impromptu, that are the best." he finished with a sigh.
Okay, so maybe he was rambling. Maybe he was repeating himself. But art was a topic he could rabble on about for ages, especially to someone who halfway knew what they were talking about.
"What do you look for?" he asked her suddenly, turning again to face the girl. Alcine Winters Alcine nodded as the man talked, absolutely fascinated with what he was saying. It was her personal belief that you could find a real artist by the way they acted around their medium: a saxophone player who bends his body to the beat as he plays, that dancer who twists the extra little inch to express her routine as more than just movements, this photographer who spoke with such gusto that the girl could feel his passion in his words. She felt herself unable to prevent from smiling, and fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt from nervous habit. Her grin widened sheepishly as he asked her preferences in photography, and she rubbed the back of her head as she laughed. "Well, I mean, I'm not really as good about it, but really, I like taking pictures of people. Not smiling or anything, y'know, just doing their thing: candid shots, I guess. It's fun to take pictures of objects, but human experience is so ephemeral it's a feat in itself just to capture the moment." For a moment, her smile faded to a more serious expression, but she couldn't help laughing again, shaking her head as she leaned against the railing, looking out to see. "But, hey, what do I know? I'm still in school. I mean, I won't even know if I got accepted to any universities for a few weeks." She shrugged, though by the way her body tensed, it was clear she was more than a little nervous. "I hope I can get in somewhere...otherwise, I'm pretty much screwed." Aiden Marlowe He took a few breaths, his head still spinning. Whether it was from the breathless joy he got rambling about art, or from the fact he didn't take nearly enough breaths when he was talking, or from the fact he was still marginally seasick he wasn't sure. It was probably a combination of the three.
He could see the fascination evident in the girls eyes, and he felt the blush on his cheeks get a little hotter. Finally, someone who was paying attention to him. Positive attention, no less. Even if it was just a high school girl. It wasn't just that she was stroking his ego, it was that this interaction had really been one of the first positive things to come out of the trip.
"Candid shots...those little things in life...sometimes they're the most precious." he said lightly, echoing his last speech. "To capture humans doing their natural things, not having them posed stiffly for the lens...I can see why you'd be pulled to that. You may still be in school, but you show you're learning. Take pictures of what you feel comfortable with- a photographer taking pictures of things they don't like or could care less about...well, it shows in their work."
Despite his good nature and fading headache, the nagging churning of his stomach was still bothering him somewhat. he'd have to go sit down sometime soon. He looked out over the water and his brows knitted together. The sky seemed a little grayer than it was before. It was still pleasant enough now but... oh, he hoped a storm wasn't blowing in. That would just be unbearable on this stupid rust bucket. He frowned a bit. He hoped it was just overcast weather.
He shook his head and turned back to the girl, smiling at her tiredly. "I'm sure you'll be accepted somewhere. You seem bright enough, anyways. I'd be surprised if you didn't, in fact. Try not to worry about it so much." he said in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Alcine Winters "I hope so," Alcine commented finally with a sigh, shaking her head. The girl took a deep breath, then looked up at the sky: the few hours being aboard was alreadly starting to get to her, despite the fact that she'd taken Dramamine before getting on the boat. Deciding it would be safe to take another just in case, she shifted her back in front of her so that she could reach inside of it, and after a moment of rummaging found what she was looking for: a small orange tube that appeared to be chapstick but, when opened, revealed itself to be a holder of tiny pills no bigger than a Skittle. She tipped the package over to allow one such pill to roll onto her hand, and she tilted her head back as she swallowed it, gulping quickly to avoid the aftertaste. She looked over at the man: he'd said his name was Aiden, right? After a moment of pondering, she held out the small canister in offering, the child-proof cap still off in case he was the type to have trouble with that sort of thing. "You look a little woozy: this'll help for motion sickness, if you want it." She shrugged, then added, "They're over-the-counter, so it's no problem: I've got another thing packed away." After she made the offer, her eyes went towards the covering clouds, and she used her other hand to act as a cover with her gaze nearing the sun. "Either way, we should probably be getting inside soon: it looks like there might be some rough weather ahead." Aiden Marlowe Aiden accepted the girl's offer of the medicine. He hadn't packed any Dramamine of his own- partly due to masculentity reasons, and partly due to the fact he just spaced it. He had a habit of forgetting things, particularly important things.
Part of him felt bad bumming some meds off a near stranger but she had offered. And she did say she had more packed away...so he guessed it was okay.
"Thanks, I haven't been feeling that great today, to be honest. I don't sail much, and I don't really care for the open water much." he blushed, taking a pill from the container before handing the case back.
He popped and pill, grimacing a bit at the taste. How gross. But if it would help him even a little bit, he figured it was worth it. As Alcine mentioned the poor weather he found himself nodding. It did look liable to turn pretty nasty out. Maybe she was right, and that it would be smart to head below decks and hide out in his room. But it wasn't bad yet, and the fresh air had helped his stomachache and headache...maybe he'd stay above deck a little longer.
He shook his head and waved the girl off. "It's not too bad yet, I think I'll stay up here for a bit more. The fresh air at least helps me feel a little better. You can go below, I'll probably be down in a little bit myself." Alcine Winters Alcine nodded, then put away the medicine, taking a quick inventory of the things in her bag out of habit before looking up to the skies again, feeling a bit fidgety. "Well, either way, I should probably head back down before it starts to rain or anything: wouldn't want any of my stuff to get wet." Turning to leave, she paused to wave goodbye. "See you later, okay?" And with that, she began her walk back into her room, hardly aware of the monster that was to be the storm passing over them in the next few hours. Ignorance was bliss, but she would only feel this happiness for so long before everything changed. Aiden Marlowe He watched the girl fidget a bit and found he didn't blame her unease at the potentially yucky weather coming up. Storms always made Aiden deeply uneasy. He always had found himself hiding in his sister's room when the weather got really bad as a kid, and hell, even as an adult. He really hated rainstorms.
"Perfectly understandable." he said, nodding his head. If he had equipment like that, he wouldn't want it getting all wet either. Still leaning against the rail he lifted his hand a gave a small wave. "Yeah, see ya later. It was nice talking to you!" he called after he vanishing figure.
After she left, he slumped down against the deck, back against the rail. He was still feeling awful sick, and he hoped the Dramamine kicked in soon. It wasn't like he had much to throw up anymore, but the dry heaves made his chest sore after awhile. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.
He opened them again and looked up at the sky, which had taken a definite gray color. He'd...he'd go down later once the meds kicked in and he felt a little better. He didn't want to be above deck when the storm kicked in...
But he'd be fine. For now, anyways...
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Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 10:03 am
Alcine was not the type to enjoy spending her time in cramped quarters, but her choices had been there or outside, and she could already hear the patter of rain against the hull of the ship, growing louder by the minute. While she herself didn't particularily mind getting a little wet, she had her equipment to tend to, which meant no walking in the rain for her.
Reaching her designated bunk, she flopped onto the thin faulty mattress despite the cries of the springs, opening the flap of her bag and examinig it's contents, quietly musing over that days shots. She should've taken a picture of Aiden, she realized as an afterthought, and reminded herself that were she to see him again, she should ask for his picture. He was a nice-enough guy, she couldn't see him saying no. However, as she continued to shuffle through her things, a thought occured to her: something was missing. With a quickened pace, she fumbled through her bag, but one very noticable piece was missing: her digi camera. She must've left it up on deck: in fact, Alcine could picture the very place she'd seen it last. Without any regards to the rain or to the fact by taking her gear with her, she'd be getting it wet, she bolted for the door, her mind frantically hoping that maybe someone had taken it inside away from the rain.
It would appear that Alcine had no such luck: she'd checked the many offices aboard the ship that someone might turn in a lost camera to, but no one seemed to know that one was even lost. She didn't know what she would do if she had to go back to school with a lost camera: it'd be so embarassing for everyone to see how irresponsible she was. She had a duty to everyone in the club (including her dignity) to get that camera back. So, with a sigh and a gulp, she opened the door leading to the outside decks, expecting a bit of a shower.
What she got was a raging storm, and she stumbled onto the slippery boards that had been so inviting only hours before, hair clinging to her face from already becoming soaked. The ship rocked with the force of a wave, and Alcine found herself pummeling into a rather large box, hitting it with a thud and sliding to the ground. Before she had a chance to recover, she began sliding the other way, and only by grabbing hold of a passing guardrail did she keep from falling off the edge of the ship to whatever lay below.
Shakily getting to her knees, Alcine began a slow, shuffling walk back towards the door, clinging to the guardrail as if her very life depended on it. A crash of lightning and the immediate report of thunder caused her to jump, and her grip slipped, but she managed to hold strong, the rain lashing at her, irritating her skin and making it hard to see. With a roar, Alcine's head jerked in the opposite direction, only to see a rush of water come up from behind her, knocking her to her knees. As she cried out, another wave came, and she could only scream as her hands slipped over the guardrail again, her body sliding away into the unknown. It wasn't worth a stupid camera to die, she thought tearfully, but her only action was to scream as she finally felt herself being flung over the edge, her slippery fingers barely losing hold of some sort of grip that could have saved her.
As her body entered the water and she thrashed about, a sickeningly calm thought entered the madness of her mind: she was going to die here, why fight it? Logically, she should just save her energy on a nice, peaceful rest that would never end. However, it was human instinct to fight, and it was not until she lost consciousness from lack of air that she became still.
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Posted: Sat May 05, 2007 9:40 am
Birds...gulls...seagulls, that's what they were called. Alcine could hear seagulls, somewhere above her, and the soft growls of waves from somewhere behind. It brought back fear, panic...why was she wet? Itchy, even?
Slowly, the girl forced herself up with bruised arms, a groan escaping her lips as she wiped the sand from her face. A familiar weight kept her from sitting up all the way, and with dazed eyes, she glanced down, her first sight being the camera bag still clinging to her body.
That's right: the camera.
Everything came rushing back to her at once, and she let out a startled scream as she pushed herself away from the water, her eyes widening. Was she...dead? Was she in heaven? Shakily getting to her feet, Alcine decided that she had to be in Hell: otherwise, she wouldn't be wet, she wouldn't have sand in all the wrong places, and she wouldn't still have aches and pains from the ride there. Looking around with a bewildered gaze, it suddenly dawned on her...where was she, anyways?
She'd falled off the boat: that much she could establish. And then what? She'd landed on an island? Out wherever they were? A growing emptiness grew in Alcine's gut: there was no one else on the boat that would recognize her as missing. They wouldn't even know she was gone until they pulled into port, if that! How was she going to be rescued?!
Alcine suddenly felt very alone: there would be no one else on this Island, in all likelihood. Unless she'd landed among natives, or it was actually some tropical peninsula close to home, she was all by herself. She wanted to stay on the beach, to create some sort of signal for help, but she knew it was hopeless. She wasn't going to be found. She was going to die there.
Wanting more than anything to have some sort of shade, Alcine began heading up towards the line of trees, distracted only by a series of bright yellow dots that seemed to have come ashore. They piqued her interest, and with slow, sullen footsteps she came upon them, holding one up for inspection and a bit of disappointment. Rain coats: whoop-de-doo.
Either way, they had to be useful for something, so in the course of about fifteen minutes, she scooped up as many as she could, piling them underneath the fronds of a certain palm tree. It was on her last search out that she found something even more interesting: a coil of rope. Now that, she could find useful. Winding the entire length of it around one arm, she dragged herself back up to where the raincoats were, finally deciding that they would make a rather nice tarp out of the sand. Flattening a few in a space large enough for her to lie upon, she curled up underneath the shade, her eyes already heavy.
Who knows? Maybe she was just having a bad dream after all. She couldn't be stuck there forever...could she?
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:57 am
Why? In which Alcine meets Ian, her new bunkmate for the Lagoon.Torian Grey This was unbearable. Ian awoke a few hours earlier, finding himself sprawled out under a pillage of rubble from the boat after he had falling off. Trying to squeeze himself out from underneath the debris caused a huge amount of stress to nail itself hard in his wrist, which had already been broken from the start. Now, it was swollen, and was quite obviously bruised. If anyone were to pass him by, it would be impossible to hide it, even if he acted as though it was fine. But it wasn't fine anymore. He was a complete idiot for not going to the doctor on the boat, but like hell was he going to do that. He was fine. He could take care of himself. Then.. Why was he crying? The boy sat on the beach, the sun just barely peaking its head out behind the grey clouds, which had set down such an array of chaos, that it had earlier thrown him, and camera girl off the ship. He was a complete idiot for actually going after her. What was he thinking? It was her stupidity that dragged her out of her room on her own free will. But.. He heard her fall. Why couldn't he have been a little faster and catch her hand before she fell to her demise? Why couldn't he have just told her to go back to her room in the first place? Why did he even bother at all? Ian cried. The huge gash on his cheek burned devastatingly. If that piece of metal had gone a few inches further, it would have broken through skin to teeth, and possibly ripped his entire cheek. Chills ran down his spine at the thought. It had stopped bleeding for the most part, but the combination of sand and salt water made it burn. He wondered if that girl had survived. If she had somehow managed to luckily wake up on the same island as he did. But, he had little to no will to get up. Ian was tired. He was exhausted. He was hopeless. He should have died. That'd be better than this hell. Alcine Winters It had never occured to Alcine that others might have fallen off the boat, that others might have survived. Trekking down the beach in search of more things that might be useful for her camp, she paused only to look out to the ocean to see if maybe a rescue boat was coming, that she might be saved. After about an hour, she just stopped looking: no one was going to even notice her gone. Looking ahead, she thought she saw a greyish-black blur among the trees. She hesitated, her brow furrowing as she stared at the thing: however, it was too far away to tell what it was, and it certainly didn't seem to be moving. As unnatural-looking as it was, it had to be something from the boat, and at that size, it was likely useful. Her pace began to quicken in curiosity at what it might be, but turned into a full-out run when she realized that it wasn't supplies, but rather, a person. "Hey! You there!" she cried, waving her arms around to catch the guy's attention if he was still alive, then slowed once she neared the boy. Almost immedietely, she recognized him...it was that one guy who fell over... "You're hurt!" Alcine said, kneeling beside him as she looked into his eyes, and then assessed his wounds. "God, I don't know how we're gonna treat this...you fell off the boat, too?" A growing look of admiration came to her eyes: she wasn't alone in this now, she wasn't the only one here. However, just as she loved it, she began to hate the fact that he would be stuck there as well: after all, it was one thing for her to suffer alone, and another for her to drag him into her suffering. It just wasn't fair to him. "Maybe I can find something on the beach to cover that up...What's your name again?" Torian Grey It took Ian a moment to comprehend that someone was calling him. His fingers were buried into his hair, covering his ears enough to muffle most sound. But, then at the corner of his teary eyes, he noticed moment, and instantly he turned his head, his heart stopping as he saw the girl. Quickly, he wiped away his tears, but could not help but show his wariness as she approached him. "Oh, it's the camera girl," Ian murmured, his eyes wide as she starred at him, but nearly jumped out of his skin as she knelt beside him. Instantly his hand retreated out of her sight, and he turned his hurt cheek away from her, his eyebrows furrowed from such a forward attempt to help him. "No, it's nothing, don't worry about it." He said, his voice no louder than a whisper as he moved away a few inches, putting some akward space between her and him. But, his eyes slowly moved back towards her as she asked him if he fell too. His gaze fell to the ground. "Yeah.. I did. I saw you out of your cabin, and when the storm got worse, I tried to find you to make sure you were okay, but then I heard you scream, and it caught me off guard and I fell in too." Compared to the obnoxious boy on this ship, this one seemed.. Just positively shy. His voice hardly got loud enough for one to hear above the crash of the waves, and his eyes could barely stare directly at hers for very long before they moved in some opposite direction. Not to mention the distance he kept between them. "No, really. It's fine--" but, he spoke to soon, when he tried to move somewhat farther away from her, he toppled over, falling directly on his broken wrist which made him cry out painfully. He quickly forced himself back up, a vague blush in his face from embarrassment. He knew he was making it worse, but he failed to care. He didn't want anyone's help, if he could help it. He was brought up depending on himself, so why should he start now? "My name's Ian, and yours, Camera girl?" Alcine Winters "My name's Alcine," the girl responded, getting to her feet and looking around, trying to find something that might be useful as a bandage. Looking back down, she gave him a concerned look. "Do you think you can stand? I'm going to try and see if maybe there are any washed up first aid kits or something like that. Your wrist looks pretty bad." Alcine paced up the beach a few steps, then looked back towards Ian, a frown forming on her face. "I don't see anything on this part of the beach, do you? We might have to go a ways before we get to anything useful." She pondered telling him to just sit there and rest, but in all honesty she needed the extra pair of eyes. Torian Grey Despite the fact that Ian was trying to be somewhat nice, even though he was still wary of her, sarcasm came naturally to his tongue. But, every time he wanted to say something with a wicked little remark, he bit down sharply on his tongue to keep himself from it. "It's only my wrist that's hurt," Ian murmured, levying himself to stand up on his feet, though he nearly fell over from the sudden force of gravity on his body. After that boat ride, he hadn't quite gained his land legs back. "You don't have to worry about it, really. I just didn't have enough time to fix it up before I fell off the boat."
Because I was to busy looking for you, he thought to himself, groaning aloud at the thought. He was such an idiot for doing that. Rather randomly, the boy struggled for a moment to get out of his black shirt, and the white long sleeved one underneath that one, revealing shamelessly his nicely-shaped body, likely from being extremely athletic. But, a moment later, he slipped the black shirt back over his back, and sat upon the ground again as he fiddled with the long-sleeved one with his free hand. With his teeth, he ripped off several slivers of cloth, and found a nice piece of wood that was small, but perfectly straight. Biting down on his lip to keep from screaming in pain, Ian pressed the peice of wood flat against his wrist, straitening out its slight crookedness as his fingers quickly tied the wood in place with the slivers of cloth. Within a few minutes, he'd provided himself with a makeshift splint. "This isn't the greatest in the world, but it'll keep my bones from healing crooked. It's not just hurt, I broke it on the boat. I don't like doctors, so I didn't go straight to the one there." Standing up, a rather shy expression appeared on his face as he looked away from her, a slight blush barely visible from his already tanned skin. " Thanks.. Though. For caring, at least." Alcine Winters "Huh?" Alcine was so entranced in the heroic aspects of her search that she hadn't quite been listening to the boy, and turned just in time to see quite a bit of tan skin, her own pale face turning pink from both a good bit of sunburn and a steadily growing blush. However, it slowly faded into just a sunburn once she saw he was setting his wound, and knelt back beside him as she watched, somewhat entranced. "No problem, y'know...I mean, I guess we're in this together," Alcine responded, forcing the blush to return again to her face. Curse her naiveness, curse the fact that she'd not yet learned the suave ways of flirting as a college student would. She was just as awkward as ever, and it didn't help that she was burning up. "Y'know, I've got a camp a little ways down the beach...it's not much, but I've got some raincoats that I'm using to make a tent and stuff, and some rope...what I'm trying to say is, maybe we should camp out together." She looked away, her blush deepening. "It'd just be safer if we stayed in a group, I guess...I mean, chances are, we're the only two people out here, and it's probably going to stay that way for a while." Alcine looked out with a furtive glance to the open sea, a desperate attempt to maybe see the ship they'd left behind. However, it appeared to be nowhere in sight, and she sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to stay on this island alone, and we could help eachother out. If you don't want to, you don't have to, but the offer's open." Looking down, she rubbed a cheek with her hand in a lazy fashion, trying to dissipate the feeling of her sunburn. Knowing her luck, it was only going to get worse. Torian Grey Ian's face went slightly vacant as Alcine spoke. He tried to log it into his mind that someone was trying to help him, and wanted his help. But he found it rather hard to believe. He had been popular at his old school, but no one ever helped him. No one was ever there for him to lean on. Not even his mother. She was always to busy with work, and boyfriends, and half the time came home drunk. Sure, they were well off, not having to worry about financial troubles, but he never asked her for anything. He had his own job, bought his own things, and sometimes even bought his own food (his mother never bought anything but crud, and he liked eating healthy-ish). Ian had been self-reliant ever since his father had left them when he was little. He simply wasn't used to receiving help, and only vaguely knew how to give it out. And he had a feeling this would be a lot harder than he guessed it would be. "Alright, sure," Ian forced himself to say, despite how much he wanted to say otherwise. He wasn't stupid. He knew when he needed something, and the predicament he was in at the moment told him that without a doubt, it would be hard to survive without someone else there. In all honesty, despite his shy appearance at the moment, he wasn't used to being alone at all. He always had someone with him back home. If there was anything he hated more than water, it was the thought of complete isolation. "Your camp is on the beach? I don't think that's a great idea. Especially if a storm were to come. Shouldn't you set it up farther up inland? That would make more sense." Ian starred at her with a slightly puzzled expression. He knew from experience how harsh storms could be near the sea. His house had nearly fallen off the cliff with the last one. After a few minutes, a frown fell upon his face as he noticed how red her face was. So, with what was left of his shirt, rather playfully, (and unexpected considering how shy he'd seem at first) he threw it onto her head for a small bit of shade for at least the moment until they had proper shelter from the sun. " You're going to be as red as a tomato if you stay in the sun for much longer. It'd be smarter inland anyway, since there are trees to keep the sun away." And for the first time since he had first met Alcine, Ian smiled, and even chuckled slightly. Alcine Winters Alcine's heart nearly jumped out of her throat when the boy agreed, and she smiled, getting to her feet with excitement. However, she sat back down again when he continued to speak, her momentary high shot down with factual truths. She hadn't really thought about the fact that another storm could hit...maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea after all. As she continued to ponder the situation, she felt the coolness of shade, and shook the shirt off her head with a good bit of confusion. Holding the fabric in her hands, she suddenly realized what it was and what purpose he meant it to serve, and placed it back on her head unceremoniously, if not a bit embarrasingly. "Follow me, I'll show you to the camp," she finally said, getting to her feet. Once again, she offered her hand to him, but decided she wouldn't be too upset if he didn't want it. It was good enough that he was agreeing to stay with her, and that in itself was a miracle, so she wasn't going to push her luck. "If there's anything here you want to take, I'll help you carry it," she offered, a smile on her face and a shirt on her head, rather amusingly. She had a feeling that, if nothing else about this island, he was something to be glad about. Torian Grey Ian's heart stopped as he starred down at Alcine's hand, having some difficulty figuring out what exactly she was doing. He smiled weakly, and for a second, began to reach for her hand, but upon an inch or so before his skin touched hers, a sudden reluctance stung itself through his heart, and his hand retreated to his side. He looked away nervously for a moment, but his eyes slowly returned to Alcine after starring back about his surroundings. Nothing special there. Just junk. " No, I'm good. Let's go, I guess." He smiled, and gladly followed her down the beach. This wouldn't be as bad as he guessed it would be. Or at least, he hoped so.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 8:02 am
Recklessness Ian has apoplexy, which nearly gives Alcine a heart attack.Torian Grey Okay, so, he had to admit. It wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be when he first got here. But that didn't mean he didn't hate it anymore. It was more tolerable, knowing that he wasn't the only one on the island now that he had met Alcine. She wasn't very fond of wandering about, but when he could, Ian slipped away, unable to resist stupidly getting himself into some mess of some sort. Twice he'd fallen down some cliff he didn't see from the brush, and twice he'd managed to make his broken wrist worse than it was originally. It didn't help at all that he didn't have the proper materials to tend to it. A piece of wood and cloth from a shirt could only do so much. He was smart about making a makeshift splint for it, but it surely didn't seem to want to hold for very long. Especially when he decided to climb a tree or two. Despite the fact that he knew he was tearing up his wrist by grabbing a hold of branches, and levying himself up onto them. his fingers were still movable, so it couldn't be that bad, could it? Of course, it was that kind of thinking that lead him to end up in the hospital numerous times before. Ian began to reach up towards the next highest branch nearest him, his fingers grazing the bark slightly. He figured if he got high enough, he could see the whole island. He'd given up hope of civilization, or others being there, but he still wanted to see how big the island was, exactly. "Damit, to short," he groaned as he stood on his toes, but still wasn't tall enough to grab a hold of the branch completely. So, he bounced on the branch slightly, testing it to see if it would hold completely against his weight-but he was wrong. Suddenly, the branch snapped underneath his feet, and the boy went tumbling down. a short yell emitted from his mouth, as several twigs and branches catching on his skin, covering the majority of him in scratches. But, upon a stroke of luck, he landed upon a bush, even if it wasn't all that comfortable, it still broke his fall. "oh, that was brilliant, Ian," the boy groaned to himself as he dusted himself off, and groaned again as he noticed the splint on his wrist gone, yet again. Wesley Roberts Wesley no longer wore his jacket, leaving it instead at the camp. He could do nothing for the painful sunburn on the back of his neck except keep it cool and and out of the sun, which is why he was staying well into the trees. The heat still pentrated, though, and Wesley was keeping his shirt partly unbuttoned. While his ankle had largely healed, he still used the staff as a hiking stick.
Wesley spun at the loud cry and started running. Aiden was supposed to be on the opposite side of the camp, searching for more food sources, like Wes. What was he doing this far of track? And what had happened to him?
The staff was really beginning to be an asset, especially in cases like these. Now that his leg had heaaled, the metal rod could become a bit of a third. using it to manuever over rocks or tangled rocks, Wesley could more or less move in a straight line. Now he made a B-line for where he heard Aiden's voice. Eventually he caught sight of a pair of sneakers sticking out of a bush. Running over, he reached a hand out to help him up.
Then he saw him.
"You're not Aiden." Torian Grey Ian twitched slightly at the sound of footsteps: oh good. Alcine had finally decided to venture about. Either that, or she got worried since he had been gone so long. Likely. But he had to admit it to himself, he sort of liked it. The thought of someone actually being worried about him, and caring for him was comforting to emotions he never he knew he had. "Alcine, I'm fine, I swear."He groaned irritably in advance before he braced his ears for her worried rambling. But, to his dismay, his eyes fell to another, and instantly his reaction changed. The boy's eyes widened fearfully as he starred at the man before him, someone he had not expected in the least bit. Clumsily, he stumbled out of the bush, falling to the ground as he clambered away from his out of pure paranoia, putting several feet imbetween the two before he stood up completely. He seemed somewhat shy, at first, his eyes wide, his body partially hidden behind a tree apprehensively. "There are other people here?" He whispered to himself, honestly not expecting a reply. He was imagining things. It was just the insanity getting to him. Wesley Roberts This fellow wasn't Aiden. It would have made sense for the survivors of the ship to be spread out, AND Wesley never had gotten this far from the camp, yet... Panic attack. The boy skittered away backward faster than Wesley thought he, himself, could move forward. Slinking behind a tree, he eyed Wesley.
Wesley realized this chap was probably deathly afraid, and remembering his own first day it wasn't a picnic, but he wasn't alone. He had muttered something just before he realized it was Wesley, so that implied there was someone to talk to.
Diplomacy, do your magic. Wesley breathed. This wasn't an abassador or foreigndignitary. It was a scared kid. The rules still applied, though. Step One: appear as you want them to see you. Wesley leaned on his staff a little, trying to imply its use a little subconciously. A random stranger with a big blunt object is no fun at-all. Step Two: Calm them down completely. Oh fun. This step was usually to soothe egos and get angry parties back at a negotiating table. Fear, though, is another matter. Bloody Dime a Dozen teenagers. Any sensible adult would rejoice at more people, this long after the crash.
"Hey there," Wesley said calmly, hopefully friendly. He made motions with his free hand showing he was holding nothing and held it in the air with no sudden movements, as one might do when being arrested. "I'm Wesley. Were you on that cruise ship a few days ago? The one that sank? I've met some of your friends." HOPEFULLY his friends, or this will end up pretty brief. While he spoke he inched a little forward, making it look like he was just shifting his weight from one foot to another.
He felt like he was in a hostage negotiation. Those rarely turned out pretty. He waited to see the effect of the words on the boy. Torian Grey Ian's focus twitched nervously to and from the man, having some time debating whether he was friend or foe. Either way, the most prominent idea in his mind was to run. But then again, considering it was likely that he was to, stranded, it wouldn't be extremely difficult for another run in to occur in the future. Sure, the island was rather big, but even the world, being huge, could be extremely small. "Friends? I didn't have any friends on that ship. I was there alone. In fact, I hated nearly everyone there," Ian said, his voice starting out at a near whisper, but soon it grew louder, and more sarcastic with his tone. His fingers dug into the bark of the tree irritably, but soon, his hand was repelled as a stabbing pain jolted through his his wrist, forcing it to retreat back to his other. Ian glared down at the bruises on it, signifying the poor condition it was in, but he failed to pay much attention to it, and let it fall to his side. "What are you... Some sex offender or something? Trying to lure me in with the thought of seeing some friends that don't exist? Real suave there, Sherlock." In all honesty, he didn't believe such a thing. Ian just had a habit of firing off a comment or two here and there. Though, despite his firey tongue, if one were to actually look at the boy, and look at him, he didn't seem quite as healthy as his words made him seem. Despite his tan skin, the boy was rather pale, a sickly tone added to his features. His breathes between words and pauses were somewhat short and accelerated. His eyes held more agony in them then his voice did, too. Against his will, a sudden dizziness nearly forced Ian to fall backwards to the ground, but his fingers caught a hold of the tree, and he pulled himself back to it to keep himself steady. But, the only problem now, his legs didn't seem to fond of holding him up at the moment. So, to try to hide that fact, casually, Ian slid to the ground to lean against the tree, trying his best to steady his breathes. The last thing he wanted was a nosy adult bumping into his business. Or, well. At least that was what he wanted to believe. Wesley Roberts The boy looked on the verge of collapse. Had he eaten, did he get an infection, did he...? Too many thing could've happened on the island. He still nudged closer unsuspectingly. "Regardless of friends or foes, there, where I came from has food and water and the other passengers. And if I were a sex offender, don't you think I'd do it in an urban sprawl and not on some uninhabitated island, hmm?"
When the boy looked like he was beginning to fall, Roberts rushed out with an open hand, only to see him catch his balance against the tree, so Wesley slowed and stopped. Wesley thought the boy might pass out regardless and he would have to run to get help. Either way, he didn't look too apt at running away, let alone stopping himself from tripping over his own feet. "Do you know of any others?" Wesley dropped the pretense that he was ignoring the illness. Anybody that could help you?" From Robert's point of view, it was just getting the boy the help he needed, now. The fight was over. Torian Grey "Yes, well, there are quite a lot of freaks out there. And under these circumstances... It's not like there's a city nearby anyway." Ian laughed weakly, but his silence overtook his words, a minor fear still burning wickedly in his mind. If this man was some sort of threat, he was at a disadvantage. If he hadn't of over-exerted himself the past few days, scoping out the island, he would have the strength to run, or at least walk, if nothing else. It was now that he knew why his mother always told him to carry a few extra pills with him wherever he went. And yet, for some reason, teenagers never listened to their mothers. And it always ended up slapping them in the face for not doing so. "I'm fine," Ian growled underneath his breathe, a slightly harsh tone in his voice as he apprehensively glared at the man. "Leave me alone, I don't need your help, or any one else's." He made a bold attempt to get up, but a] he stupidly applied to much pressure to his broken wrist. and b] his legs quickly fell from underneath him. But, after a few moments, when another slide of dizziness hit him hard in the face again, he frowned, and finally submitted. Unfortunately, he valued his life more than his pride. "The only other person I thought was here was Alcine, but she doesn't know that I'm sick, only that my wrist is broken. But it's not like she helped me much with that, either." Silence quickly took over his words again though, and one could easily tell that he was on the verge of unconciousness, but he forced himself to stay awake, his wariness still dominating his mind. Alcine Winters Alcine didn't mind that Ian sometimes liked to wander off: it was simply how the boy was, she supposed, and it'd be useless for her to whine about it or ask him where he went. She could understand his need for privacy, and respected it: it was in the times he was gone that she could work on the camp, keeping it tidy and looking for more supplies that could be used as shelter. However, after a few hours, Alcine began to worry, and it was on this paranoid instinct that she ventured into the woods, her face and arms pink from sunburn regardless of the white shirt that acted as a shade to her head. Wandering with a strict orientation on where the beach was, she almost felt that her attempts would be fruitless until she heard a sudden thud from a distant direction, and started trudging that way. "Ian? You out here...?" Alcine came upon the area where she thought she'd heard the noise, and her eyes widened. It was a different person: a man, in fact. There were others on the island?! Her heart stopped beating for a moment, but it kicked back into overdrive when she saw who it was that the man was next to. "Ian!" Alcine ran by the boy's side, looking at him with a worried glance before turning to face the red-head. Introductions were to be made later: Ian needed help now. "What happened? Are you hurt? We should get you back to camp before it gets worse--" And so Alcine continued on in her frantic questionings, before she finally just stopped and took a deep breath. Calm. She needed to be calm. Looking back to the man, who seemed to be the oldest and therefore the most mature of the group, she blinked, looking to him for an answer. "What's going on?" Wesley Roberts And here's the other. As much as Roberts wanted to question the girl, this really wasn't the time. Obviously she was a friend, so he gave a recount as quickly as possible, hitting on as many key facts as possible. "I was searching for food when I heard a shout. I ran here and found him in a bush, but he paniced. He just started blacking out. I'm not a doctor, but from what I've read, this looks like a seizure of some kind. It would make sense for the frightened reaction he just gave. He doesn't have epilepsy, does he?"
In the meantime, though, Wesley kneeled down and propped him up. slightly with the staff as a crossbar, agitating it slightly. He had never read of a medical condition where falling unconcious was a good thing. Torian Grey Despite being unconcious, Ian was vaguely aware of Alcine's presence, her ears tuning into her voice meagerly. He simply couldn't get himself to react. He felt like a statue, able to hear everything that was going on in the outside world, but couldn't move, or see the actual events to go with it. But goodness, was it annoying. Finally, though, the boy woke with a sudden jolt as he felt another's touch, and instantly he was on his feet, a defensive pose set in his legs and arms from a sudden panic forcing him to react to the unknown touch. But not much after, he fell forward, his balance and will quickly lost, and if not for the tree directly in front of him, he would have made a nasty fall. "Don't. Touch. Me." He growled weakly underneath his breath, his eyes partially closed as he slid to the ground again. His breathing was getting much shorter, and much faster now. Oh, goodness. Why hadn't he listened to his mother? Leonard Flynn Leonard was exploring the forest, and like Wesley, had removed his jacket. He was busy eating some fruit he had found, a mango or something. What he really wanted though, was a cigarette. Nicotine withdrawal while stranded on an island: not fun. It felt good to have some food in his stomach though.
He heard some voices up ahead, and he quickly finished the fruit he was eating, and started to eat the other one he had found. Like hell he was going to share with someone else. He came across Wesley, and two people he hadn't seen before.
The guy looked like s**t, even more so than Leonard with the shiner on his face. He addressed Wesley. "Wow, looks like you really kicked his a**." Then he calmly took a bite of the fruit he had found. Alcine Winters Alcine looked from the man to the boy again, breathing a sigh of relief as Ian regained consciousness, even if it was only to snap at the man. "Ian, what's going on? Did you hurt yourself?" She tilted her head, her brow furrowing. Regardless of whether or not there were others on the island, Ian was the one staying with her, and it was he who she cared about. She turned at the sound of someone's approach, and her eyes narrowed at his comment, thinking of something particularily vindictive and hurtful to say in response. However, she reminded herself that Ian was hurt, and left it at a simple retort. "I can tell by that black eye that you must be a fan of assuming things: who'd you piss off before you decided to come bother us?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned sharply back to Ian, and her worried expression returned. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Gee, bipolar much? Wesley Roberts Wesley felt a little on the verge of giving up. The boy had scurried away, and then Leonard showed up. He largely ignored him, but took in the important facts - he was eating. Noticing the way he entered, Wesley made a mental note of following that trail. The man, like many American businessmen, could not be trusted.
Wesley looked to Alcine. "Could you do something about him?" He motioned towards the black-clad fellow. "He looks sick, do you know what it is? Or something that could help him?" Wesley wasn't going to approach the boy again yet. Not if he runs and trips over something else, and actually breaking something.
At this rate, though, we should move him back to the camp. If he gets immobile, there's no way the girl can watch by him alone. They're all just kids. Even the ones in the expensive suits. Wesley looked back, seeing Leonard fondling the fruit. Or maybe especially those. Torian Grey Ian forced himself to consciousness. If there was one thing that he hated more than anything else, it was feeling weak, and insecure. And at that moment, he felt like a helpless child, relying on their parents to make their boo boos and hurts and pains go away. Well, life wasn't like that. He wouldn't let himself think like that. "I told you, I'm fine." Ian said, his voice slightly more stable than before now that he took a short bit of time to compose his thoughts and scrambled mind. Slowly, he inched his way up to his feet by using the tree behind him as support. His face said otherwise though; it was still soaked with droplets of sweat. And it wasn't all just from the heat. His breathing was still rather escalated, but slightly more controlled than before. He hated to admit it, but to get these chimps off of his back, he'd have to. "It's not a big deal, honestly. I always get sick, and if you want proof of that, feel free to go swim back to my doctor and ask him. Believe me, he'd tell you more than just that too. I'm just a screwed up kid, so why don't you just leave me alone to die without having to hear your useless ramblings and questions? It's really annoying." But, soon after his brief, rude introduction,his legs refused to boldly hold him up again. And as he hit the ground, his eyes closed one more time. but, this time, he didn't stir. In fact, he was barely breathing.Leonard Flynn "It's not my fault some people have no self control." He muttered. Taking a bite of fruit, he gestured at Ian. "I say we do what he says and leave him to die. More food for the rest of us." If the guy was going to be so set against help, why bother? It wasn't like he was going to thank them afterward, and they really might have a problem with food. Alcine Winters Alcine's expression lightened with Ian's return to conscious-land, but it once again fell into despair when he toppled over, and she knelt over beside him, gently checking his forehead for a fever, if she could even tell it apart from the tropical heat. Her eyes then widened, and her head snapped up to meet Wesley's eyes with a frightened gaze. "Oh my God, he's not hardly breathing!" she cried, instantly moving into action as she secured one arm under his shoulder, using her other to lean against the tree for balance as she shakily hoisted the boy up. Stumbling, she ended up taking hold of his midsection to keep him from falling over, her eyes wandering to the trail she'd taken to their camp. If only she could get that far... Alcine glared in response to Leonard's snide comment, and had she not been concerned for Ian's welfare, she would've gone up and given him a matching shiner, or as much of one as a high-school girl could give. "Well, since he's not a part of your camp, then I don't suppose he'll be eating any of your food, and so the decision is not yours to make." Shuffling Ian's body on her shoulder to a different position to keep from cutting off the circulation to her arms, she looked back to Wesley with a slightly more tolerant stare. "Hey, do you think you could help me carry him back to our camp? It's not too far away, and there's gotta be something there we can use." Wesley Roberts Wesley rushed to put a hand under Ian's head before he hit the ground. The last thing that was needed here was skull trauma. He briefly shook Ian's jaw, a bit roughly. "Come on, stay conscious here. Come on."
At Leonard's comment, Wesley's hand went white knuckled on his staff. Leonard gave them a crack, why not give him one? The only thing that stopped him at all was the though of having to move two unconscious bodies around. Instead, He gave Leonard a stare. In fact, one of the coldest that he could ever recall. "I'll remember that comment, Flynn. You can count on it."
At Alcine's request, Wesley sighed. He wasn't a body builder. Wordlessly requesting her to hold the staff, he gave ago at picking the boy up. The first try gave no luck, barely rolling him. The second time gave a loud grunt as he managed to pick the body up to waist height. He started groaning every other second with the weight, and he was dead sure he was making dozens of strange faces to help keep the boy aloft, but at this moment it didn't matter. "Support the head!", he gasped out. "Which way!"
Wesley hoped he didn't burst a blood vessel. Leonard Flynn He shrugged off her comment. "Hey, there's only so much food on the island. Let me know if you feel the same way after you haven't eaten for three days."
He calmly finished of his fruit as Wesley glared at him. "Be careful making promises you can't keep."
He watched them try to cart off the unconscious Ian. Why exert themselves like that? it certainly wasn't very conductive to their own survival. Alcine Winters "Good luck surviving on your own," Alcine snapped before finally returning her gaze to Wesley, having become calm. With a bit of uncertainty at first, she looked around, then seemed to have found her bearings, nodding her head to motion to where the beach was. "It's down that way, and then a little walking once we get out to the sand," she explained, wishing there were some way to get there faster. Holding Ian's head gently, she was pretty sure that she wasn't helping much, and gave a concerned look to the red-haired man. "Hey, do you want me to hold him? You don't look so good." In all truth, there was no way Alcine could carry Ian all the way back to camp on her own. It didn't mean she couldn't try. Wesley Roberts Wesley looked her over briefly and decided to ignore the offer for her to carry the boy. She wouldn't be able to, and at this point, he really, seriously doubted that if Roberts set the boy down that he would be able to pick him up again. He started stumbling forward into the direction she gave him. He was carrying a load of bricks, not a person! If the boy ran away after waking up after what Wesley was doing now, he was really going to give him what for. With what tiny cognitive capacity Wesley had that wasn't focused on keeping the boy from dropping, he wondered what the pair could possibly bring to the table in terms of resources. Food, perhaps? Blankets? Or more useless things like the light bulbs Wesley had found back at camp? Only time would tell, as he kept stumbing towards their camp. Leonard Flynn He stood and watched as they dragged the unconscious Ian away. The kid was a lost cause as far as Leonard was concerned. Why bother wasting the energy?
He finished his other peice of fruit and threw the core on the ground, before calling to them. "I guess if he dies, you'll have food at least, huh?" He snickered a bit before heading back to his own camp. I nice nap in his car sound real good right about now. Alcine Winters Alcine snorted in distaste, then returned to leading the way for Wesley, seeing as how she didn't seem to be much use otherwise. Like she'd said, it wasn't long until the trees thinned to reveal the beach, and one particular palm tree was marked with a bright yellow sigil, a raincoat tied to it's trunk indicating the camp. Raincoats littered the ground all around it, and a rope tied several up to create a canopy of sort that Alcine motioned for Wesley to set Ian down on. Once he'd done so, she had many questions. "What should I do? Get water, food, anything at all? I mean, this has never happened to him before." Now that the blonde jerk of a man was gone, the concern truly registered on the girl's face, and she gently clasped Ian's hand, squeezing it once to let him know that he had her support. Looking up to Wesley for guidance, she tried to make herself look brave, but all she felt was weakness. "Thank you for bringing him here...I don't know what I would've done otherwise. I didn't even know he was out there like this..." As her voice trailed off, her gaze went downward, and she couldn't help but blush beneath her sunburn. Here she was, talking about Ian as if she'd known him all her life, like they'd always been this way. She supposed he wouldn't like that, but then again, did she really know? Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand again, wondering if she should check his temperature. Not that it mattered in this heat, but she wanted to at least try. "...Is there anything I can do? I don't even know how he's sick like this: do you think it could be heat stroke?" Questions everywhere...why didn't she ever have the answers? Wesley Roberts Wesley heaved a great sigh of relief after setting the boy down the best he could. I suppose if I ever need to prevent getting wet, this is the place to go. Everything was absolutely littered with yellow. Befoew he knew it, he was under fire. It was like meeting the whole press, but coming from one little girl. He tried putting his hands in a motion for calm, but they just kept coming. "Alright, alright. Look, he seemed to be having a seizure. If that's right, he'll come to in a matter of minutes, and otherwise there's nothing you can do. If you have water - ", he scratched his head, adding, "and if you have something to even carry it in, even better. In these conditions, water is good for ANYONE. Aside from that, " he sighed, rubbing his temple, "we just have to sit and wait, for now." Alcine Winters Wait? Alcine could wait. She nodded meekly, trying not to notice how her hands were fidgeting nervously and her legs itched to run and find something to carry water in, regardless of the recklessness of it all. There had to be something she could do, some place she could go, some way to wake Ian up-- Okay. So maybe waiting wasn't Alcine's best trait. Sighing, she wiped the hair from her face to give her hands something to do, then shuffled a bit to keep the rest of her occupied. "I, uh, don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Alcine." In normal instances, she would have offered a hand to be shaken, but she unconsciously insisted on holding onto Ian's hand in case he woke up, or he had another seizure or something like that. The next time, she would be there for him, and she wasn't going to risk that safety on the formality of a handshake. Wesley Roberts Wesley resisted the usual knee-jerk motion to begin a handshake, seeing that there was none to be offered. "Roberts. Wesley Roberts. We've got a larger camp down that way," he said, pointing. "There are six of us there, now. You two look like you were on that cargo liner, as well." Wesley say that the boy was breathing better; that was a relief. How long have you two been here? About eight days, like the rest?"
Considering the circumstances, the pair had faired pretty well. They had found food, and made a crude shelter, although they did have a lack of fire to keep warm at night. Hopefully it was just a run of the mill seizure for the boy, and not solmething more serious, such as a tropical disease... Torian Grey Ugh. It was unbearable. It made him so sick to realize how weak he was, and to be forced against his will to reveal it openly to public eyes. He'd been extremely good about hiding that fact to Alcine the past few days, but it got really hard without his medicine quickly. It probably would have helped a lot if he hadn't been climbing up every tree and every rock he could find on the island. Force of habit though: it was a tendency now, to do some of the stupidest, dangerous things imaginable. He always was the showoff. It took sometime, but after a few minutes, he finally shook off his unconsciousness. He didn't open his eyes for a moment, taking a moment to finish letting himself catch up with his breathe from the dense humidity forcing it back. Then, he noticed someone was holding his hand, and for some reason, he knew who it was, instantly. From this realization, his hand reacted and meagerly squeezed hers, a very minor, short desperate move. But, then, his fingers quickly retreated from hers, and he opened his eyes warily, the meager light still managing to burn at them. "How'd I--" Ian murmurred weakly, slightly baffled at however he managed to go from thick brush, to the tent. But, he put two and two together once he noticed Alcine and the man he so rudely snapped at, Wesley. Ian furrowed his eyebrows, a minor guilt in his heart. He came to the assumption that he had helped Alcine get him there. Alcine Winters Alcine blinked for a moment, then nodded to Wesley's question. "Yeah, it's been about that long, I guess...we were both on the boat." Pressure on her hand was enough of a distraction for her to look back down again, and her eyes widened when she realized Ian was moving. She forced herself not to be panicky, not to be frantic. He would be alright, wouldn't he? "Good morning, sunshine," Alcine said in a slightly joking voice, a smile creeping on her face at the irony, since he seemed to enjoy wearing black. Her hand retreating back into her lap, she forced herself not to fidget, not to try and take his temperature or anything like that. She needed to stay composed. "You okay?" Wesley Roberts So he did wake up, on time. Wesley breathed a sigh of relief, leaning on his staff heavily now that the ordeal was slightly more over. The boy didnn't have a dozen things that could plague him on the island. Wesley also kept his distance from the boy. While he probably wasn't going to have another panic attack, a close stranger is uncomfortable; let alone waking up from blacking out. He gave the girl - Alcine? - some space to familiarize the boy with his surroundings. She's treating him like a stray puppy, and he seems ok with that. I wonder how that came about? Regardless, Wesley stood silently behind Alcine, to an angle. Torian Grey "That's so funny that I forgot to laugh," Ian said, a weak grin spread across his face though, nonetheless. Originally, if anyone else had said that, he'd likely try to kill them. But Alcine's lame sense of humor grew on him rather quickly over the past few days. He actually thought it was sort of cute, really. Sighing, Ian sat up, stretching his arms out over his head as he yawned, as though he had woken up from a long sleep. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's no big deal. But.." As his arms fell to his side again, he took a momentary glance at Alcine, and then warily his eyes crept to Wesley. " Thanks, though. I guess... That could have turned out worse than I thought it would. I sometimes forget that I'm not invincible." "Before you ask, because I know you will, again. I have apoplexy. I haven't had my medicine in over a week, and I guess I just over-exerted myself to much lately. I think.. The heat just got to me. And I just sort of have a habit of catching every illness that comes near me, sometimes. So, that doesn't help much." Alcine Winters "Apoplexy?" Alcine's nose wrinkled as she tried saing the word: it sounded weird. "Is that the 'I'm gonna pretend that I'm dying but be totally okay' disease? I've never heard of it before." She scooted away a bit to give him some space, then looked up at Wesley, an idea occuring to her. "By the way, this is Wesley. He fell off the boat, too. He's the one that carried you over here," she explained, trying to be the mediator for introductions. She smiled, then looked back to the red-headed man. "And if I didn't tell you before, this is Ian. Ian, Wesley, okay, now we're all friends." She laughed, and it seemed that since the crisis was over, she could simply blow it over like it was nothing. "You're welcome to stay in Yellowtown for a while if you want: I don't know how far a walk it is to your camp," Alcine continued, gesturing to the yellow raincoats scattered about. "It's not much, but it's a lot better than sitting on sand." Wesley Roberts Wesley was familiar with this syndrome. "It's a disorder that causes people to faint for a few minutes at a time, sometimes showing irregular behaviour just before such -", he was cut off be Alcine, who was spontaneously making introductions. Good Lord, is this girl flighty... No matter, though, as Wesley committed the name to memory. Alcinr was already continuing on though, and Wesley had to backtrack to keep up. "Yello-?" Wesley caught up, looking around. "Ah."
"We actually aren't all to far from the camp as we speak.. There are six of us there now. And, as barbaric as it sounds.... we have fire, there. You two are welcome to come there, too."
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Posted: Sun Jun 03, 2007 3:36 am
Unlike most of the people stuck in the lagoon, Alcine's had a rather bad case of sunburn that just won't become a tan. However, when she notices that, at some point, her skin has entirely healed to it's pale tone, it's an easy indication that something's up. It starts with her hands: like Aiden's, a film begins to spread from in between her fingers, soon creating webbing all the way to their tips. Then, her arms begin to burn as slowly, fins push out from the sides, filling with barely enough cartilege for them to stand out on their own. Down at her feet, a similar process is occuring, but it seems all the more painful: her toes warp and dissolve, leaving behind only pointed bumps in between the webbing that juts out from her foot. The texture of her skin changes their as well, scales one by one pricking their way from her skin in a faded, striping pattern. In the last of her changes, Alcine is overcome with the muscle cramps more commonly known as growing pains: her legs begin to stretch and thin, though it is barely noticable. In fact, it will probably take an encounter with another for her to notice that she's actually become taller. 
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The Wave of Change Captain
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Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2007 6:46 pm
Par for the Course Alcine meets up with Aiden again, only to see him change! *Backdated*Aiden Marlowe Aiden sat on a rock, sketchbook sitting against his lap as he gazed out to the sea. His sketchbook had gotten pretty wet in the shipwreck, but after leaving it out to dry a few days back (along with the rest of his supplies), he had manage to restore it to almost the same state it used to be. But the water damage was obvious- pages were warped and rumply. But it was nothing he couldn't deal with. At least he could still draw.
He figured that part of the reason his sketchbook had fared so well was due to the case he kept his art supplies in (while water HAD gotten in, it had protected the supplies well), and also because of the hard cover on the notebook. Still, as he looked down and started to flip through the pages, he noticed some of his drawings had faded and ran a little. Oh well, nothing he couldn't redraw, or in some cases, touch up. he flipped past old self portraits he had done in various styles, as well as a few sketches of his sister and mother (which he flipped past quickly so as not to be reminded of what he was missing back home) and a sketch of a young man with short-cut light hair, a pair of stunning blue eyes the only color in the sketch. Sasha. He stopped on the page, unable to look away, and set his fingers on the paper, looking down balefully. God, he missed Sasha. He took out a pencil and began to carefully touch up the lines in an almost loving manner, sighing heavily.
He was supposed to be adding to and touching up the map he had been making since the fourth day on the island- shortly after meeting with Hailey and collecting shells. But here he was, chasing ghosts of the past instead of doing something practical. But he had never been a very practical man (though admittedly, he had his moments).
He stopped briefly, letting the sketchbook rest in his lap and he rubbed his temples. Ugh, he felt a headache coming on. But that would just be par for the course, wouldn't it? Already, he had felt like crap today, ever since he woke up. It could have been something as simple as minor dehydration, or too much heat, but his mind instantly turned to something more morbid like...some tropical disease... or skin cancer from being in the damn sun all the time. After all, it did seem that freckles were slowly overtaking his body- disconcerting since he wasn't the type to freckle when out in the sun. What he hadn't noticed, however, was how dark some of them had become. He had felt like his skin was prickly and itchy to- he had been scratching all morning.
Probably lice...or fleas...or some terrible disease. God, my life is just WONDERFUL, isn't it? As if I didn't have enough trouble back home, now I'm STUCK on and ISLAND and probably have some stupid island fever. I'll probably die before anyone rescues me, which at this point would probably be a blessing in disguise, he groused inwardly.
Oh, today was great, wasn't it? At least the sun wasn't out in too much force, but with his luck, the overcast weather would probably turn to rain. Par for the god damn course. Alcine Winters Alcine wasn't much of an explorer, but after what had happened to Ian, she decided that she needed the initiative to know about everything else on the Island. If there were two men in the woods...well, couldn't there be others? Just how many people were there? And like Ian had said, having a camp on the beach wasn't good in the event of a storm, so as her excuse, she said she was looking for a better place to camp. In all actuality, though, she was looking for answers. Her slow paced walk became a run when she spied a figure off in the distance: a red-head, but it didn't look like Wesley. Someone new, then. However, as she neared and his features solidified in her vision, she began to recognize that face from before the island: by the time she neared him enough to speak, their conversation started playing in her head, a moment of nostalgic memories of before the island life. "...You fell off the boat, too?" Alcine asked, her voice weak as she attempted to catch her breath after running for so long. Were it not for the fact that she'd been sunburned over the past few weeks, she would have been red in the face, and paused for a moment to slow her racing heart before speaking again. "I mean, you were on a boat, right? We spoke together?" As sure as she was that this was the guy she'd met before, it was a weird deserted island: you never knew who could be on it. Aiden Marlowe At the sound of another's voice, Aiden stiffened and slammed his sketchbook shut, arms trembling slightly. But the voice...it was familiar and as he whipped around, he was greeted by the sight of a very out-of-breath girl. But not just any girl...it was unmistakably the girl from the cargo ship. He broke into a wide grin, despite how utterly miserable he was feeling inside. She was alive...that was good. He would have hated for the girl to have drowned.
"Heh...yeah, I guess I did. Quite literally too. I knew I should have gone below deck when you had...but even then, I don't think it would have done much." he smiled weakly. "Alcine, right? Yeah...we talked about photography briefly. I'm glad to see you're okay." he said, recalling their conversation, scritching lightly at his upper lip as he spoke.
It was good to see another familiar face. He wondered...had she seen the camp yet? Or had she been wandering around? He didn't recall seeing her around the camp over the last week...and while it seemed doubtful he would have missed her presence...it wasn't impossible. Still...it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Have you been to the camp yet? The one in the clearing just past the treeline?" he asked, setting his sketchbook off to the side.
Alcine Winters Alcine smiled at his recognition. So it was the same guy: Aiden, she believed his name was, out on the beach with a sketchbook. "Yeah...I didn't know others had fallen off, but Ian and I have something worked out on the beach down a ways...." Her voice faltered as he continued, and her brow furrowed in curiosity. "There's a camp? Just how many people fell off the boat?" The idea of a group camp gave her mixed feelings: on one hand, her heart did rhythmic gymnastics inside her chest at the chance to be with people again, but on the other hand, she got the feeling that by entering another's camp she'd have to go by another's rules, and she liked what she and Ian had set up. It wasn't much, but it was theirs, and that's more than what she could say if she went under someone else's roof. Call it typical teenage rebellion, but she kind of liked the idea that the two of them could handle what a whole group did. "Is that where Wesley and the pissy blonde guy live?" She remembered the faces of some of the others: it would be useful to know just exactly where they stayed. "And you, too, I guess?" Aiden Marlowe At the mention of some Ian person, he arched a brow. More? It seemed that very slowly, more and more people were showing up...or maybe it was that they had been there all along and were just now finding each other. Either way, it sent a chill up his spine that so many people ended up on the same island-- in the same general area too.
At the inquiry of how many others there were he let out a whistle. How many were there again...? He could fight back a snicker at the mention of 'the pissy blonde guy'...either she had met Leonard, or someone just as bad (which, he really hoped wasn't the case- one Leonard-type was more than enough).
"Well...there's me- I actually have my space a little outside of the clearing; I like my privacy, you know- and Leonard- probably the irritable blonde you were talking about- and yeah, Wesley's there...Oh, and Hailey! And the old guy...Paul! Yeah, him too.." He paused. he was forgetting someone... "Jessie! He was the other one. But that's about it...only 6 of us. Not many people, but it's enough to get by." he explained.
As he sat there, occasionally scratching more at his upper lip. It felt sort of itchy-tingly now- though he wagered it was just from him scratching at it so much. He hadn't even noticed the thick whisker-like hair that had started to grow.
"You know what? You should join our camp! The clearing's got good space, and there's a stream nearby and everything...there's food too- fiddleheads, berries, and coconuts. And soda! I've even been plotting this way to put some water in the empty soda cans and boiling to I dunno...purify it or something." he grinned. "Sure, it ain't no booming society- we pull together to gather resources and then the rest of the time we do are own thing. Just as well- I don't like being bossed around." he laughed. "But if you joined us...it would be a lot safer for you too. I mean, safety in numbers, right? Like, we don't know what kinda animals live around this place, for one. And you'll have more food. Plus, the more people we have, the better our chance for survival until someone finds us."
His last sentiments had a sort of older-brother sort of tone and feel. Nothing too bossy, patronizing or pressuring, just suggesting. He tended to take that tone with his twin sister back home too- despite the fact they were the same age. He was, perhaps, a little protective in that sense. He took a deep breath and let it out again, finally done with talking for the moment (or at least in such excessive amounts). It would seem that at times, the redhead could be a bit of a mouthpiece. Alcine Winters Alcine blinked as Aiden told her all about the occupants of the island: there were so many of them! She hadn't realized that many people had managed to fall off of just one boat. Then again, it had been a pretty bad storm...but even so, that many? She'd thought she'd been the only one, and here she was, talking with a man about a little community inland. It was almost too much to take. The idea of a water supply and shelter was rather tempting: Alcine had been getting all of their water from collection after the storm, and she could only guess whether or not Ian had found the stream that Aiden spoke of. She knew that realistically, the two of them wouldn't be able to last like they would in a camp full of responsible adults. So why did she have this nagging feeling that she didn't want to go? "It sounds nice..." Alcine admitted, wiping the hair from her face as she looked out to the sea, her brow furrowing. "I don't know if I'd want to stay in camp with that Leonard guy, though, if we're thinking of the same person. And Ian, well...I think he kinda prefers it out by himself. I don't think he's much of a people person, to be honest." Alcine felt bad about putting her reluctance on Ian's shoulders, but in truth, she needed to ask him, anyways. She wouldn't be able to leave him out there alone. Smiling weakly, her gaze returned to Aiden, wherein her expression brightened into a full out grin. "It's good to see I'm not the only one getting some sun, though. You've really freckled up." Aiden Marlowe Aiden laughed and nodded at her apprehension towards Leonard. Hell, Aiden wasn't even sure he wanted to be around that guy- he was still holding a grudge that Aiden accidentally lost his lighter. And he was sort of irritable but he wasn't that bad...but then again, he wasn't sure what sort of impression he must have made on the girl.
"Yeah, he is a bit of a jerk...still peeved at me coz I dropped his lighter over the side of the boat." He shook his head. "But that's why my sleeping area is a little ways off the clearing- so I don't have to constantly deal with everyone. Plus, if someone's buggin' ya, you can walk the beach- I'd say you could walk the jungle too, but god knows what's out there...I wouldn't go there unless I had a group. But if you don't want to, it's okay. I just hope you're able to forge food and drink for yourself alright. Maybe I'll have to bring some spoils over for ya sometime." he grinned.
As she mentioned the freckles, he looked over his arms and legs again. There seemed to be...more than there used to...and they looked awful dark. he frowned. No, this wasn't normal or right. but he didn't dare say anything- no need to scare off one of the few people who he liked talking to by making them think he had some awful tropical disease. So he acted nonchalant about it, through his eyes showed his worry.
"Th-those? Heh, yeah...it's weird because I don't normally frec--AHG!" he stopped mid-sentence as a spike of intense pain shot through his ear, yelping in pain.
He grunted and grabbed his ears, wincing. The pain was more than a fleeting spike though, it seemed to drag on. He could hear the blood pounding through his ears, and in his grip they felt warmer than normal. He growled out a few choice words, and gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. This hurt. This really hurt. And yet...it was only the beginning. Alcine Winters The more Aiden spoke, the more Alcine wanted to go to the camp. Even though Leonard was there, it's not like she couldn't avoid him, and being with a group sounded so nice. Compared to her little raincoat shack, they must have it good: maybe Ian would agree to it after all. Alcine finally opened her mouth to offer to take him over to perhaps talk to Ian, but whatever words she'd collected left her mind the moment she saw him wince. Flashes of Ian's seizure permeated her mind, and before she could even realize what she was doing, she was on her knees by thw man's side, her arms ready in case he fell over. "Are you okay?" she asked, a frantic tone in her voice. Aiden Marlowe He kept his eyes shut, his head beginning to pound as well. His mouth felt oddly dry, too. Not a good sign. Oh this was bad, this was very bad. He was now utterly convinced he had some sort of tropical sickness, though what, he couldn't tell. He slid off the rock onto the sand, sinking to his knees, leaning a bit against Alcine. It felt like someone had clamped a pair of red-hot pliers to his ears and were just pulling and pulling. He rubbed at his ears, hoping to ease the pain...but yet it didn't do anything. At best, it made them tingle even more.
He hadn't noticed, but the thick bristles on his upper lip he had been scratching at had lengthened quite a bit. His nails were starting to slowly turn a blackish color as well. He was more fixated on the pain in his ears, though, and only noticed a slight tingle.
"Nnng...ears...hurt like hell. Dammit...Ahg..." he growled, shaking his head from side to side. He cried out in pain once more, just wishing the pain would go away, but it only seemed to get worse and worse... Alcine Winters Alcine didn't say a word when Aiden began leaning against her, and out of what would later be matronly instinct she rested her hands on his shoulders, gently pressing into them for comfort. Her eyes widened as she watched his ears push upward and beyond the hiding blinds of his fingertips, which were also changing as well. "What...what the hell?!" For some reason, Alcine wanted to pull away from the man and run away, retreat back to camp and pretend that none of this had ever happened. She could do that, really: she had working legs, right? However, her temporary paralysis held her long enough for her to realize that Aiden was in pain, and he really needed her help right now. Forcing herself to calm down, she looked over the entirety of him, trying to see what else was getting worse. Was it some sort of disease, or was Aiden some sort of daylight werewolf? "W-what else hurts?" she asked, continuing to look. She didn't know what else to do. Aiden Marlowe He could feel her gently press onto his shoulder, and he felt his body relax briefly at the comfort. But before he even had a moment to relax, the pain spiked through his ears again- a wrenching burning pain. He had even realized that the tips of his ears had extended and poked through the gaps in his fingers. He gasped wildly, seeming much like a trout out of water.
He heard Alcine gasp her own words of disbelief, though he had thought it was at his cries of pain. He had no way of seeing the transformation. He heard her quietly ask what else hurt. His toes and fingers tingled and itched, but not much else hurt...
"J-just the ears..." he gasped. But no sooner had he say that than a short twinge rippled across his toenails and finger nails.
His hand ached a moment, and then it was gone. But the itching in his nails...that didn't go away. He pried his hands away from his ears, fully exposing them in all their elongated and pointed glory. He looked down at his hands...only to see how thick, pointed, and black his nails had gotten. Something else was wrong with his hands...there was some sort of...webbing between his fingers. His jaw dropped and trembled as he stared at his hands. No no no...no way. No ******** way! His breathing sped up and he frantically wiped his hands against his shirt in hopes he just had stuff on his hands. But it was to no avail. As he stared at his hands once more- which had started to ache again, he looked past to his toenails...which had undergone a similar transformation. He kicked his feet wildly and gave a loud howl.
"What the ******** is going on?" he yelled, his voice climbing higher with fright.
He scooted back against Alcine and then whipped around quickly, grabbing a hold of her shirt. It was clear from his wide-eyes expression and the tears welling in his eyes that he was scared as hell and just as confused. His ears were still pounding and aching. Between the pain and the utter confusion of what was happening, Aiden was close to just tweaking and having a flat-out meltdown.
"Alcine...what's happening? Help...it hurts...my ears...my hands..." he whimpered pitifully. Alcine Winters "Aiden...Aiden, c-calm down..." Alcine trembled as he held onto her, her bewildered stare focused on the sight of his strange hands, the black nails glistening in the tropical sun. She tried to look him in the eyes, but found herself looking to his deformed ears, yet she couldn't even look away: this was far too strange for that. Damnit, why did he have to be crying? Regardless of the situation, a small piece of Alcine's heart broke when she saw the tears welling up in the man's eyes, and before she even realized what she was doing, she pulled his torso close to her in a tight embrace, anxiously rocking back and forth as she tried to ease her frazzled nerves. "It's okay, Aiden...I honestly have no idea what the hell is going on, but it's okay, really..." Just to prove her point, she reached out and grabbed one of his webbed hands, squeezing it gently to show that she wasn't afraid. In truth, she was terrified, but then again, that's what acting was for. "...Does it still hurt?" Alcine finally asked softly, her grip releasing as a blush foamed over her sunburn and she looked away, somewhat embarassed. She shouldn't be holding him like that, regardless of the situation. Aiden Marlowe Aiden looked at her, lower lip trembling as she spoke. Oh how he wished he could calm down, but his heart was hammering in his chest, and there was a tightness in his chest like there were iron straps over his lungs. He gasped a few more times, trying to take deeper breaths despite the sharp pains he felt when he did so (most of which was due to the utter panic attack he was having). When he did take a deep breath, he exhaled a shuddery breath bordering on a weak sob a few seconds later. He was just scared, confused, in pain, sure he was dying of some tropical disease...and he wanted to go home.
He allowed the girl to pull him close and didn't even bother fighting. Instead, he sunk into her hold, resting lightly against her chest as she rocked him back and forth lightly. As she spoke to him and rocked him he closed his eyes and tried to relax. His ears still ached, but the pain seemed to have started to ebb...or at least it wasn't getting worse anymore. But damn, did it still hurt.
He winced slightly when she squeezed his webbed hand, letting out a small 'nnf' sort of noise.
"Not so much. Just feels funny..." he muttered in response.
It wasn't as much that it hurt as it was that it felt...strange. Tingly, like his whole hand had fallen asleep, almost. He hoped that feeling would go away...it bothered him and kept making him think his hand was about to fall off. With his luck, the whole thing would rot and have to be cut off. He shudder fiercely at the thought. He felt sort of sick now, and the heat and pain was not helping that fact. It wasn't like he had anything to throw up anyways.
He knew he shouldn't be clinging to the girl like this. It was stupid, and he felt embarrassed for even making such a scene. But he was reluctant to be let go. He felt fairly comfortable like this...even if it was hot out. Still, he let out a sigh and sat back some, blushing in a way that made the freckles all over his face stand out even more than before. He wanted to apologize, but the words stuck in his throat.
Finally, when he did speak, he muttered "I...want to go home." He spoke in a quiet and shaky voice and never once lifted his gaze from the sand. He was too embarrassed to make eye contact right now. Alcine Winters Alcine hesitated, listening to his quiet confession. It had never truly hit her that they were stuck on this island for who knows how long, that there was the possibility of never going home, and Aiden's quiet cry suddenly made her very aware of the reality. Resisting the urge not to sob herself, she continued to hug the man in the hopes that it would make her feel somewhat better. It didn't work: after only a moment, a tear slid down her cheek, and she let out a soft whimper coupled with a meek, "I want to go home, too." She let go of Aiden only to wipe her eyes, but that act in itself only seemed to make her tears fall all the easier, and before she knew it she was leaning against the man again, crying on his shoulder. She was scared, nervewracked, and homesick, and all of her emotions gave her a sensory overload all at once. There was a time when she wouldn't have cried. Now wasn't it. "I-I'm sorry," she softly added, pulling away towards herself in an effort to once again wipe away the tears. "It's just that, I'd never really thought about it, and--if we get stuck here--" Alcine found that she couldn't continue, and just began to cry again. For once, she didn't want to act the part of adult: she wanted to cry, and she'd be damned if her pride would let her do otherwise. Putting her face in her hands, she purely and simply sobbed, just as unable to look at him as he was to her. Aiden Marlowe He did want to go home. He wanted to be back with his sister...and his mother. He always was such a mama's boy at heart. But then again, his mother and sister were the only things that had ever been consistent in his life...but now he didn't even have that. He didn't have anything anymore. A week earlier, he would have never given up hope that they'd all be rescued. But now...he wasn't sure. He felt very hopeless and generally depressed.
Even if they were rescued...he looked like a freak now. Would anyone even want him back home? He was ashamed of himself...he didn't want anyone else to see. He wasn't even sure he wanted to go back to the camp.
He heard Alcine whimper and confess that she wanted to go home too. He felt more bad for the girl than he did for himself, though. She was younger, just barely out of high school, if he recalled correctly. She shouldn't have to deal with this. So when she leaned on him, crying, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. It was his turn to do the holding and comforting...of course, comforting someone was very hard when you were just as scared and unhappy.
As she started crying, he felt tears slide down his cheeks as well, and he fought back sobs. C'mon...get yourself together man... he willed himself mentally. But it was hard, so hard!
When she pulled away he let her go and scrubbed at his own eyes with his now-webbed hands. As she started to cry again, he felt tears prickle at his eyes. He sniffled and scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"It...it's okay. W-we won't get stuck here. You'll see. They probably have people out already looking for us...it's just a matter of time, you'll see. At least you don't look like a freak...you still have hope." he said, trying his best to be reassuring.
He didn't tell her not to cry, though. That wouldn't help anything, and plus...sometimes a good cry made you feel better. Or more stupid. Either one (he was feeling more the latter himself). Alcine Winters A good cry was exactly what Alcine needed, and Aiden's comforting words made her feel somewhat better, despite the fact that she suddenly missed everything about her life that had been good before she'd fallen off that stupid boat. "You don't look like a freak..." Alcine weakly responded, lifting her head to wipe her eyes yet again and look down at his strange hands. She couldn't deny that they weren't normal, but in the face of the calm she was now feeling, they didn't seem to be quite so terrifying. With a cautious, trembling hand, she reached out yet again, and flirting with disaster, clasped his diseased hand. There was no way of telling how contagious whatever had happened to him was. "...Do you really think it will happen to all of us?" Alcine asked, a certain distance to her voice as she attempted to weave her fingers in between his, blocked by the fleshy webbing. She instead contented herself with resting her palm atop his, and for the first time in minutes, she looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes rimmed red from crying to bring out the normally dull grey. "...Do you think...y'know...we'll all end up like this?" Her voice quivered with a tinge of fear, but she kept her cool: now that the crying was over, she wasn't about to go back to it. Aiden Marlowe As she clasped his hand again, he smiled. He couldn't say why, but it made him feel a little better. But he had to admit the girl was braver than he was- he wouldn't have wanted to touch hands like his...he didn't even WANT hands like his attached to his body. He didn't dare squeeze back, though. Baby steps, he told himself. He didn't want to push his luck.
He laughed weakly at her assertion, though, that he wasn't a freak. She's probably just being nice.
When she looked at him and asked if they'd all end up like this, he held her gaze a few seconds and then looked away. Thus far, he was the only one he'd seen with this problem. But he didn't want to say there was no way at all...because what if something did happen? He'd hate to give anyone false hope.
"I...don't really know. I hope not. I wouldn't wish this on anyone." he said honestly. Alcine Winters Alcine blinked, and in silence she looked at her own hands, turning them over to reveal both her pale palms and sunburned backs, her thin fingers curling at the possibility that their fingernails would turn black. Slightly withdrawing, she got to her feet, then held out one of her untainted hands out to help him up. "Maybe that one guy can help you out...red hair, tweed suit, I think? His name's Wesley." She looked out towards where the camp was, then back to her strange friend. "He helped Ian when he got sick, maybe he knows what happened to you." To complete the friendly image, she smiled: if there was any way she could help Aiden, she would, even if it meant going into camp with the pissy blonde. Aiden Marlowe He watched the girl examine her hands and withdraw a bit, standing up. He, on the other hand, stayed sitting down where he had been. He didn't blame her for finally pulling away, though- who knew if this was contagious or not? Not to mention the close contact had been a little awkward. But when she offered her hand, he hesitated slightly. Aside from still feeling a little silly with everything that had just happened, he'd feel terrible if he somehow contaminated her just by touching her, or being around her. But then again, he wagered that if anything was going to happen, it would happen- if this disease was fairly contagious, he'd probably been around her enough to contaminate her as is was. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling himself up.
"Hn? Wesley? Yeah, he seemed smart enough...maybe he knows what the hell is going on..." he said. Back when he had first arrived, Wesley had seemed pretty good at locating food sources and setting up camp and the likes...and he looked smart enough...it was worth a shot, anyways. Maybe they'd be surprised. "Yeah, that sounds good. It wouldn't hurt to at least try and ask..." he said, giving a wan smile in return.
His ears still hurt like hell right now, but the pain had become more of a persistent soreness than the sharp, shooting spikes it had been. He rubbed at his ears absent-mindedly and groaned a bit. Damn, this still sucked. Hopefully, though, Wesley knew what was going on... Alcine Winters Alcine smiled as he took her hand, and with a bit of a heave, got him up. "I'm sure that if anyone on this giant rock, Wesley'll have some clue what it is. I mean, he even knew what Ian's poplipsy was, or whatever it's called." She shrugged, then smiled, thinking to herself that, of his symptoms, the 'whiskers' actually looked kind of adorable, in a stuffed animal sort of way. Lost in thought for a moment, Alcine blinked to snap out of it, then began to walk towards where the camp was, hesitating only when she realized that she didn't actually know where the camp was. "Uhm...do you mind taking the lead?" She asked, laughing to herself as she rubbed the back of her head. She certainly felt less than intelligent after making that assumption. Aiden Marlowe Aiden, of course, was oblivious to how cute anyone thought him. That tended to happen a lot with him, though. Granted, he found his change anything but cute. The freckles he could live with. The whiskers he could cut shorter with his knife. But the hand webbing and the claws would be hard to fix or hide. He didn't find anything cute about those...they were downright freakish. At least he was alive...but he still had no way of knowing whether this...disease or whatever caused him to change was deadly. He hoped not; as much as he hated his life, he clung to it desperately.
He laughed and bit and nodded. He knew right where camp was from here. or rather, he thought he knew. He grabbed his sketchbook and the pencil he had been drawing with and stuck them both back in his art kit, pulling the metal case off the rock.
He started in the direction of camp and motioned for Alcine to follow. "'S this way. It's a bit of a hike, but it's probably not too bad. Mostly straight down along the beach in this direction, then through the break in the trees to the clearing." he said. He sighed a bit as he walked. "I wonder what everyone's gonna think of me...I look like a horror show..." he mused aloud. Alcine Winters "You really don't look that weird," Alcine asserted, giving him a good look up and down. It certainly could've been better, but it also certainly could've been worse. Walking in silence for a moment, she soon decided that it would be best if she started calling out to the man they were looking for, just in case he wasn't exactly in camp. "Wesley? Helloooo? It's Alcine, from a little while ago, with Aiden," she said into the woods, her hands forming a cup around her mouth to help the acoustics of the sound. She looked around, blinking, then nervously laughed to herself, looking back to Aiden with a lopsided grin. "Okay...maybe I'll start calling once we get a little closer to camp." Aiden Marlowe "Heh, thanks. he said softly, with a small smile.
But despite the girl's reassurance, Aiden still felt awful self conscious about how he now looked. Maybe it could have been worse, but it was still pretty bad- and noticeable. Maybe they'd kick him out of camp, thinking he had some plague. Well, if that was happening, he was taking what was left of his soda, dammit. After a few weeks, the amount had been dented, so that would just make it easier to carry, he decided.
As the girl called out, he wondered if he should be doing the same. There was no guarantee that Wesley would be at camp. He might be out and about, either forging or just hiking.
"We're not that far from camp, actually." he said.
They had been making decent time, and the beach was pretty much a straight shot to camp. After a little more walking, they reached the familiar break in the trees. Aiden moved up closer to the treeline and examine a palm sitting at the very edge of the treeline, running his fingers over an x-shaped cut in the bark. He'd made that cut the first day there so he'd know camp was through the clearing.
"'S right through here." he called back to her, motioning for her to follow.
He stood at the mouth of the clearing, hesitant to go into camp still. He was still terribly worried about what people would think. He didn't really want to be seen by anyone like this but...they'd see him anyways, right? He reached up and tugged at his bandanna, pulling the band from behind his ears over a bit, to cover the tips of his ears. The whiskers...well...they weren't that weird, and he couldn't his his feet. He thrust his hands into his pockets, hoping his attempted disguise would be enough to keep people from bolting at first site of him.
He had no problem showing Wesley what the hell happened. Wesley was smart, smart enough not to tweak out and flee at first site of whatever Aiden's affliction was...or at least he hoped.
"Oy, Wesley! You around here anywhere?" he shouted loudly. Now, it was just a matter of finding the man. Wesley Roberts Just a few more, and that should be enough for tonight. Wesley scanned the fiddlehead patch. There weren't many plants left with more than the needed 3 stalks needed for more growth. Funny, the only reason he would care about new growth would be for another crop - which wouldn't happen for months, even given the climate. When did I start making long term plans? He supposed it was a gradual thing - the longer he spent here, the longer he prepared for. The duration didn't matter: The mantra maintained; 'Overcome.' Though what he would do without a good bit of pipe now and then in the future, he didn't know.
His pockets and fists full, he was already about to head back to the camp when he heard a call with his name. That was neither Hailey nor Jessie. That was... Aiden? Here? None of the other infected were at the camp at the moment, which would make explaining awkward to the boy, but potentially safer for him. If this is really an infection at all. Wesley was beginning to have his doubts. None of this was adding up to any sort of textbook definition of disease or illness he'd ever seen, and that was quite a lot. He had examined both of the others as closely as he could; Hailey as dignantly as possible. It was comparing apples to car tires.
He rushed to the camp, but paused on the edge, as to check where the boy was before Wesley stumbled too close. On the left side, from Wesley's perspective, was Aiden - and Alcine. To his knowledge, the two had never met - A lot can happen in the course of a week, he thought, flexing his hand. What was with Aiden, though? The boy had hardly changed in a month, and he leaves for a week and manages to break his peach fuzz barrier, and gets freckles? Alcine looked the same as he last saw her, though, minus the life-support attachment to Ian. It had been too long without seeing either of them - and now he had to send them away. Life was twisted, that way.
Stepping into he clearing to be more visible, he tried to look casual. "I am, yes. Glad to see you two both safe." Time for the shock value. Otherwise they might decide to stay anyway. Lifting his free hand from his staff, he said, "My apologies for not offering a handshake, but there's a bug going around." Let's see how they chew on that. Alcine Winters Alcine looked around the camp with a curious gaze: it was certainly bigger than she'd imagined, and a little nicer than where she and Ian were staying. Perhaps she'd been wrong to turn Wesley down the first time. Hearing the man's voice, her eyes went up to see him with a smile, but her expression paled as she saw his hand. And it was going around. Alcine had a funny feeling that suddenly she shouldn't be here. "Well, you see, that's kinda why we're here," Alcine explained, looking from Aiden back to Wesley. "Whatever's going around...I think it's possible he might have it, too. Sort of. I mean, he didn't change colors, but he's got pointy ears?" She put her hands up to her head to mime the ears, she looked to Aiden with an apologetic smile: she knew he probably wouldn't like that, but it was the best way for her to explain if he wasn't showing off. "And his hands...they're webbed, I guess. We thought that maybe you'd know what was going on?" Aiden Marlowe As Wesley finally stepped into the clearing, Aiden turned to face him. He frowned a bit at the sight of his grayish, webbed hands and pointed ears. So...he wasn't the only one then. Aiden should have felt relieved he wasn't alone, but all it did was make him feel worse. At the mention of a 'bug', he winced. Damn...so it was contagious? His mind started turning, trying to recall who he had been in contact with over the duration of being here.
Who had he been around lately? Hailey, Leonard, Jessie, Wesley, Paul...everyone had been so close to each other in the camp. He had been around Hailey more than once...and he had napped in the car with Leonard the first day. Paul he had gathered coconuts with...what if he was responsible for infecting everyone? He didn't even know how they were doing thus far, and part of him didn't want to hear it.
He glanced at Alcine with a worried look. She looked okay, but after today...what if he had contaminated her? What if she was going to change like he did? He hoped there was another explanation. He would feel awful- byond awful, in fact- if she changed and he was somehow responsible for her going through the pain he went through. No, she didn't deserve that.
As Alcine mentioned his own affliction, he sighed and reached up, putting his bandanna back to it's original position behind his ears, exposing the terribly sore points. He held his hands out and spread his fingers, exposing the webbing.
"Yeah. I've noticed." he said dryly.
He let his hands drop and he looked at the man with a worried expression. "Do you really think it's something contagious? I mean...what the hell is this? Why is this happening? How did we get it? Was it something in the water? I thought boiling it in the cans was supposed to take care of that. Was it a bug that gave us something? What's going to happen? D-do you think they can cure it...or..." he babbled. His voice had gotten higher pitched as he talked, speaking faster until the end where he trialed off. He swallowed deeply. "or...will we die?" he asked quietly, his stomach doing a flip-flop as he said that.
He was scared...panicked, actually. His eyes were getting all watery again, though he wasn't about to break down like a pansy a second time. Not in front of anyone, anyways. He swallowed again, trembling slightly, his face a little paler than before. He had so much to worry about now...his own health, everyone else's that he had come in contact with...combined with the fact they were marooned...oh, he was in a sorry state indeed!
"What can we do?" he muttered, shaking his head. Alcine Winters Alcine nearly jumped out of her skin when Wesley barked his command, which made it all the easier to acquiesce, staying a good feet away as she tried to catch some of the conversation going on. Once again, she looked to her hands, and the idea that it could be contagious was starting to get to her. She needed to find Ian, and now. Once she herself began to be questioned, she looked to Wesley with an uneasy stare, unable to keep her eyes off of his ears and hands. "No, we came here after it happened...I've never seen this before...wait, I have to stay here?" The expression on her face deteriorated, and for a moment, she opened her mouth to argue. She couldn't stay here. Not without telling Ian. He wouldn't know where she was, wouldn't know about this crazy-a** disease- "Can I go first thing tomorrow?" she asked, a pleading tone filtered through her defeated voice. She knew he was right: if anything, she wouldn't want Ian to end up like this as well. It would be better if she were contained. But even so, the thought of going through that sort of pain seemed nightmarish, and she shuddered at the thought. Looking up weakly, she attempted to make herself look better, even if she didn't feel that way. "It's, y'know...Ian's all by himself, and he doesn't know anything about it." Aiden Marlowe When Wesley sudden shouted his command, even Aiden jumped a bit, newly-grown whiskers twitching slightly in response. As the older man came at him swiftly, the redhead took a few steps back, feeling a little nervous.
He blinked a bit, somewhat relieved to find that whatever he had was, thus far, non-fatal. Though he found himself simply bobbing his head numbly as the older man spoke. He should have felt a lot better at finding out that it was unlikely he'd die any time soon, and that his case was so mild, but...but he just couldn't combat that squirming anxiety in his stomach. It was like nothing seemed to quell it, no matter how good the news was (unless of course, that news was 'Just kidding, this is all a bad dream and you'll wake up in a few seconds'- fat chance at hearing that). He fidgeted around with the new webbing of his hands nervously, turning to stare blankly at the trees off to the side.
"Yeah, alright. Wet 'em down, gotcha." he murmured in a rather zombie-like fashion.
He felt what good spirits he had left sink suddenly as Wesley informed him that...he had no idea what the cause was. Great, the smart guy, and only chance he had of someone knowing what was up was clueless. It was asking too much anyways. How would he know? This...this stuff just doesn't happen. He shook his head.
"It just doesn't happen." he said quietly, voicing his thoughts. He whipped his gaze back to Wesley, bows knitted together in mild panic. "This...this just doesn't happen! People don't just....magically change like this in the matter of minutes. This s**t just doesn't happen in real life. It's like...Like a bad B-movie or some comic book come to life. Why the hell us?" he yelled, balling his fists.
He clenched his fists and jaw tightly, feeling a slight achy heat throb through his hands. He shook his head again. "It doesn't make sense." he said defeatedly, relaxing his jaw and letting his hands hang limply at his sides.
He sighed deeply and looked over to Alcine, who had moved away from him. He didn't blame her. At the mention she might be infected too, he turned to her, looking rather mournful. Infected...what had he done? He turned his face away from her, back to Wesley. He listened to the girl answer Wesley's question, and he nodded in affirmation.
"Yeah...I just changed a few minutes ago. I don't recall being near anyone infected lately, though. Not in the last few days, not ever." He shook his head. "I ah...I had left yesterday to explore the beaches and work on my map...so I haven't even had that much contact with any normal people either..." he added.
At the second question, he shrugged. "I don't think so. Well actually...these freckles...they weren't there before. I don't normally freckle in the sun so I should have known something was up. And they're kinda dark too... with my luck though, it's totally unrelated and I really have some form of skin cancer. That would just make my day. No no, my life." he grumbled, whiskers twitching again (the likes of which made it a little hard to take his grousing seriously. [Wait a second...the facial hair...why'd it keep twitching like that...? Ah crap. He grabbed one of the long hairs and held it up. "Apparently, I have... whiskers now too. Because these things sure as hell weren't there yesterday night. And it kinda feels... weird when I mess with them like this...not like a normal hair." he said in an annoyed and slightly puzzled tone.
He watched Wesley circle him, and he shifted uneasily again. Damn, this guy was making him nervous. The whole change coupled with the new info had really put him on edge. But all his annoyance melted back into sorrow as he heard the tone in Alcine's voice when she spoke. It was all his fault she had to stay here instead being with that Ian kid. Her friend. It was all his fault he screwed stuff up. And if he infected her...god, he really had a knack for messing things up. His posture sunk visibly, as if an invisible weight was pushing on his shoulders.
He turned and looked at her again, same baleful look as before. "I...I'm sorry. For all of this." he apologized, eye reflecting a pitiful, watery gaze. "Sorry I've been such a bother." Wesley Roberts As he still circled Ian, he answered Alcine's questions as tenderly as he could. "Hailey was more than twenty four hours separated from Jessie before she was altered, so the morning would be really stretching it. If you go to Ian even then, you could pass it on before showing symptoms. As strange as it may sound, Ian may be in better care alone, at least until we can give you a clean bill of health. Alone, he shouldn't have any chance of infection." Wesley sighed, not wanting to scare the girl. "Do note that I won't try and stop you, though. Coming in contact would cause the very thing I hope to prevent. If it's any consolation, by this time tomorrow you should be safe, but you never know."
Wesley then was informed bluntly of Aiden's opinion. "I assure you, no one is more nervous about all of this than I. We even have evidence of new nerve tissue in Jessie, which is unprecedented. I do not inspect others like this merely out of boredom - I am doing things to the best of my ability with all of the resources I have available. As it is, I feel it important to catologue any differences as quantitatively as I can -if something changes further, I want to know about is."
As the boy began to list the changes he had noticed, gears turned in his head. "This is very strange, in a symptom sense." He started theorizing. "You grow hair, and nails, regardless of awkwardness at the moment. I and the others, on the flip side, have receded with these attributes." He held up the back of his hand for Aiden - and possibly Alcine - to see. "No fingernails any more. None. And no hair along any of the infected areas - even miniscule as it usually is on fingers and ears. In fact, if you didn't have the pointed ears and the membranes, I would say this is a completely foreign thing. You say that no one infected you? Maybe when contracted once, it creates a certain result. Perhaps you contracted it straight from the source again, and are showing different results because of it." Verbose, especially for teenagers, but he hoped they got the message. Or at least had faith in him. He sure didn't have any for himself.
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Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2007 6:47 pm
It wasn't so bad, now, was it? All she had to do was sit in camp for a day or so, and then she'd be free to go back to Ian again, back to her sheltered encampment where people didn't change colors and they didn't grow whiskers and claws. She only had to manage it for a day.
Alone, that is.
Alcine found it harder to manage than she'd thought, and once she'd set up camp well away from the others, realized that it was not that she didn't have anything to do, but rather that she couldn't be with other people. Listlessly, she sat under the tents of her self-proclaimed Yellowtown, staring at the rope with a worried expression.
She forced herself not to look at her hands, expecting them to film over with webbing at any moment. Could it really be contagious? Were they really all going to end up like that? She hiccuped a sob, but wiped her eyes and curled up on her side, determined not to cry again. At some point, the overflow of emotions simply flowed into the feeling of nothing, and if nothing, she was greatful for the dullness of apathy.
However, still one question persisted: what of Ian? Would he come looking for her? Would he even care that she had gone missing? Even if he did, there was a chance she could infect him, and if she did...she shuddered at the thought. She wouldn't be able to watch Ian go through the same thing that Aiden did, that much was to be certain.
Once again, she stared at her hand, but with a frustrated huff, pulled it against her, shutting her eyes tightly. She didn't need to know anymore. She just needed for this wait to be over.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 10:11 am
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 10:12 am
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 10:14 am
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 12:38 pm
It always starts with general nausea before a change: in fact, that seems to be one of the only common factors between everyone in the Lagoon. For Alcine, it's no different, and the aches and pains may not even set off an alarm. However, her skin has gotten even paler, and that is only the first change to come. Both her hands and head start to ache, the first where her webbing starts to thicken, and the second where her ears slowly begin to shrivel, leaving little more behind then holes. The fins on her arms creep up further, past her elbow, and cover in scales, her hands soon following suit. That, however, is nowhere nearly as disturbing as each one of her fingers thin and lengthen, producing the start of a set of spindly looking hands off the set of a Tim Burton movie. Not to be forgotten, her feet begin to change as well, any signs of toes dissolving into one superfluous fin as more scales appear, their dark sheen climbing all the way to her hips. Lighter bands fill in at her feet and angles, but otherwise, the scales are the same as the ones on her hands and arms. Then, the worst of her last change is multiplied as her legs thin and stretch much like her fingers did, leaving her much taller and even more clumsy than before on these new stilt-limbs. But it still gets worse, as she is hit with more changes both on her face and spine. A long, sinous tail striped like her legs pushes out from her lower back, stretching nearly twelve inches before slowing to the crawling speed it will continue to grow at in the days gone by. Her canines hollow and extend past what her mouth can hold, and her final change gives her fangs so long that they must rest on her upper lip, giving her an awful lisp. Well, it can't get much worse than that...can it? 
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The Wave of Change Captain
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2007 2:00 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2007 2:10 pm
Each step was agony. Every breath was burdening by a soft whistle. And even in a tropical paradise, Alcine felt cold.
When she reached the outskirts of New Yellowtown, she nearly cried in joy as her legs gave out under her, her deformed hands brushing the sand of familiar territory. She looked down at her hands. No. They couldn't be hers anymore. She pushed them into the sand, far enough so that she could hide the black scales creeping down her arms. Now she stared at empty sand, and for a moment, felt content.
They weren't her hands. They couldn't be her hands.
A sharp pain caused her to arch her back, hissing as she pulled her hands from the ground with a violent jerk. She looked warily behind her; Good God, the tail's still growing. She couldn't call it her tail. It wasn't her tail.
Was she even herself anymore?
She bit her lip with the teeth that wouldn't poison her, then held up her hands again. Covered in the tawny sand from the camp, her hands didn't look quite so foreign, and if she held them down to the ground, her webbings even blended in to the rest of it.
No. They weren't her webbings. They weren't her hands.
She struggled to her knees, crawling inside her rain-coat tent that matched her rain-coat attire. What would Ian make of her? He hadn't accepted her when she changed the first time, and this was worse.
Even so, he was blind. Maybe she didn't need to tell him...As she pondered this, a soft hiss came from her mouth, prompting tears from her eyes. She couldn't not tell him. She'd been deprived of that from the moment fangs had grown from her gums.
They weren't her fangs. This wasn't her body.
...So who's was it?
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2007 6:34 pm
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