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"Any number of things," Thom replied with a grin, falling back to lay on the sand. "A fire, per'aps. Or Moreau comes down with some rare illness. Per'aps we could muster a rebellion in time, as well. Or th' government of somewhere or other could find out what's goin' on an' call a stop. We're on the island, but we're not citizens of it, an' th' labs would 'ave a damn 'ard time or justifyin' their actions."

"Government aside," he continued after a beat, grinning smugly, "I dare say I've enough fans to attract some major media attention to what's 'appened. There're a few other ex-celebrities, if you will, 'ere as well, from what I've 'eard."

"There are chips...in th' backs of our necks," he explained patiently, sitting up enough to tap the back of his neck with two fingers. "Implanted when we arrive, or very shortly thereafter. The serve numerous purposes, I'd wager, but th' one you'll see most often is more of a botched safety attempt. If someone gets 'violent', then just knock 'em out." He snapped two fingers, shaking his head.

"Rather irritatin', that. But th' chips can be removed, I'm told. Just need t' find someone I trust enough t' do it, and a reason to 'ave it done in th' first place." He didn't have much reason for it just yet, after all. It would only put him on the run like Jamal was. And while Jamal could run, Thom...couldn't. He would be easy to catch up with, and he really had nothing to accomplish in going chipless. So for the time, it would remain in place.

He flashed a toothy grin, moving both hands to pillow his head. "Remind me to send 'im an autograph is we ever get off 'ere, eh? Let's see..." He took a moment to dredge up the names, frowning faintly when they evaded his thoughts. "There's a list of everyone 'oo's in th' duplexes in th' cafeteria, there were a few names I recognized on there... Some movie star, I want to say. An' a big name in business. I can't recall. One of those names on television all of th' time." Thom had never had much use for television.

"I can't say I've ever 'ad much interest in it." Thom grimaced at the very thought. He had met a fair share of celebrities before the island, and movie stars, singers, and the like just...rubbed him the wrong way. Toss the old money crowd into the mix, and you had a bunch of snobs best left tied out for the media to devour. Admittedly, he had been a bit haughty at times before the island, and still was off and on, but he didn't consider himself better than anyone else. He was just perhaps a bit more boastful than necessary when it came to his football skills, not that it mattered anymore.


His expression hardened into a frown with her final words, and he sat up, glaring darkly out across the waves. "...I was in a bus wreck," he offered sharply, ducking his head. "Big ordeal. Presumed dead. They just snatched me from the scene. It could 'ave 'appened to anyone." He heaved a sigh, shaking his head and glancing back up towards her. "Why're you 'ere, then?"

The worst part of the accident wasn't so much that it had left him on the island, but that he couldn't remember ever leaving it. Vaguely, vaguely he could remember the lurch of the bus veering off of the road, but thinking too hard on the subject usually provoked a fierce headache and gave him no further insight to what had actually happened. The bus had veered, he had woken up days later on the island.. And somewhere between the two, five of his teammates had died. And for a while, Thom had thought he had as well. He couldn't remember, there was no reason not to.

He did sympathize with her story, however, and allowed his glare to soften to a light frown. "Now, that's a pity.... An' that's parents for you. Can't say I was on good terms with my own." He paused briefly, then decided honesty was the best policy in situations such as this. "Though, to be 'onest, you are...far thinner than's probably 'ealthy. Are you takin' any vitamins to 'elp out?" He avoided the topic of food for the time. He felt a bit hypocritical telling her to eat properly if she wasn't when he certainly hadn't been since his last change, even if his body was adapted for such habits.

"No offense intended," he quickly assured her, noting the tone and expression. It was a good thing he hadn't gone straight to food accusations, he thought, fighting a grimace. And if she really did have an eating disorder, which it certainly sounded like based on her story, the worst thing to do would point blank call her out on it and tell her to stop. She would probably just get offended, walk away, and there would be one less person able to help her towards overcoming the disorder. "If you like 'ow you look, far be it from me to stop you, but vitamins are a good practice. I used to take 'em daily. It can only 'elp."

He gave a short nod in acceptance of her words. He didn't know if she was just saying them to placate him, or if she was genuinely going to consider his suggestion, but it was a start. He could always have Natsumi ask if they hooked up for the gymnastics practices, and if Rachel hadn't started using them, he could have the labs send her some. That would work.

At her request, Thom quirked a brow, taking a moment to think on the subject before chuckling and shaking his head. "I'm afraid I've never been too big on that sort of thing. I could probably dredge up a few, but not off th' top of my 'ead. I'll think on it for next time we meet, 'ow's that?"

"Wait to thank me if I manage t' think up anythin'," he corrected her, flashing a grin. After a beat, he gathered up his cane and climbed to his feet, speaking while doing so. "Well, I'll be 'eadin' back to th' village, I think. 'Ave to make sure Natsumi 'asn't barricaded 'erself in th' duplex again." He rolled his eyes, but smiled at the thought, offering a hand. "It was nice meetin' you, Rachel."

"Not at all," he replied brightly, sweeping a hand towards the path through the jungle and starting back over the dunes at her side. The shifting sand made walking with the cane difficult, and so he walked a bit slower than normally, but he would keep up more easily once they reached the more solid ground of the jungle.

Her question brought a smile to his face, but he ducked his head slightly while he explained, watching his step while on the sand. "The island is... completely unpredictable, even th' changin' thing aside. I won't go into details unless you're up to 'earin' a good bit of ramblin', but, in short, certain things that 'ave 'appened 'ave 'ad different effects on different people. Natsumi's scared t' be outside, and I...am not fond of indoors."

"It's one of th' reasons we're stayin' together," he added, grinning. "I keep 'er from hidin' away all day, an' in return she keeps me from worryin' all night. She's made a lot of progress, but she still 'as a tendancy to lock 'erself in if anythin' spooks 'er."