The Field

Who: Cross and Helena
When: Late afternoon
Where: A part of the beach where lots of lake seaweed grows
What: They make a discovery while preparing a clam bake.
Status: Incomplete

Helena had a high fire stoked on the beach and a wide basin of clams already standing by for the hot stones and the clam bake. She was tired of grazer for the time being and had decided to quit being lazy and see about doing something useful with the day. She wasn't entirely sure where her honey had run off to, as she was still dreamily thinking of him since the day before. She amused herself as she worked by thoughts that he was avoiding her so that he wouldn't have to perform any more. Or that he felt guilty about the lack of work getting done the past few days.

( what is it? )

Who: Helena and Analiese
When: Mid Morning,
What: Talking it out
Where: On the beach, talking it out.
Rating: PG most likely!

Helena felt languid from the moment she'd woken up. She'd spared a few minty kisses for her honey before they had gone their separate ways after breakfast. She was in no hurry to get anywhere or do anything and so, after taking the State of the Union with her two fellow council members, both of whom looked tense and unhappy to her, she'd peeled away from camp. Not far, though. She'd taken her freshly filled water bottle and eased herself down into the sand directly in front of camp on the beach. The breeze was lovely and even the occasional sprinkle of rain was welcome. Helena felt like she'd need to stay visible and in one place today. While a couple of people seemed to be in the same rubbery state of bliss that she was, most were hunched and avoiding the eyes of everyone around them. She had a sense that some people would need a confidant today and so she planned to relax and make herself available.

Analiese felt unwell both physically and mentally today. She wasn't sure if it was the cold water in the spring or being out in the hot sun for quite a while the day before, but she'd awakened shivery and slightly achy. She'd actually skipped breakfast in favor of staying in her bedroll, not really feeling like talking to anyone... plus she could avoid seeing Aaron that way. He probably didn't want to see her any more than she wanted to see him, she thought. She certainly wasn't blaming him for anything, because she'd been equally as enthusiastic about what they'd done. It was just awkward. Finally she got up, crept off into the brush to take care of personal needs and then wandered back to camp and down toward the beach, her cardigan sweater wrapped tightly around herself.

She spotted Helena sitting near the water's edge and plodded over to join her; Helena was one of the few people here that she'd be willing to talk to right now. "Mornin'," she said, easing herself down into a seated position on the sand.

( My Day's Called Regret )

Who: Kenneth and Helena
When: Early Afternoon
Where: Some back route away from the beach and camp.
What: A chance encounter from two people who were hoping to avoid other people.
Rating: PG, pretty much

( What Are You Doing Here? )

Who: Helena and Cross
Where: Their lean-to
When: Morning time
What: Waking up in the grips of pollen
Rating: NC17

( too hot for clothes )

Who: Helena and Ryan
Where: The long trek around the entire island.
What: They discover something spooky
When: Day 30, late morning to early evening
Rating: TBD
Status: In Progress

Packing a few little things to eat and her filled plastic water bottle, Helena paused at the campfire to wrap a few slices of the grazer jerky and a handful of boiled pesk eggs into her scrap of a pillowcase. She already had some of the leftover flatbread she'd made the other day in there. It had hardened into a sort of stale cracker but she still fully intended to eat it. Meal packed, shoes strapped on and a loosely woven straw hat planted on her dark head, Helena looked for someone to tell that she was leaving. Not far today, she hoped, but she wanted to walk the entire shoreline of the island. There were still plenty of places undiscovered, plenty of items she surely hadn't found. It was time to do a little bit of exploring.

Ryan had grabbed some breakfast earlier, and as he emerged near the campfire from the direction of the stream, he was munching on a hunk of grazer jerky. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever eaten by any means, but he'd learned to be grateful for food of any sort. For the most part, they didn't go hungry now, and that was something for which to be thankful. He could see somebody nearby, and when he got close enough to see who it was, he smiled. "Hey, Helena. How's it goin'?" he asked her.

Helena looked up with a smile. "It's going really well. My head doesn't hurt at all today." She rubbed the back of her neck to demonstrate that her injury was much improved. "I'm just packing up a little food to take on a long walk with me today. I was planning to follow the beach all the way around the island." She shrugged her narrow shoulders inside her faded blue t-shirt. "I just wanted to tell someone where I was going in case I'm not back by nightfall." She cocked her head curious. "Unless you wanted to come along? Get you out of camp today and a beach walk should be pretty straightforward, right?"

( We'll See What We Can Find )

Who: Helena and Rowan, the sexiest ladies of the land
Where: Helena's house
When: Morning
Rating: Probably G

Between stupid dogs spilling her hard-won flour, and having had to find somewhere to store it where it wasn't going to turn to goo from rain or dew or whatever, Rowan had discovered that she was really bloody proud of herself. She'd made flour. Or a rough version thereof. It wasn't perfect but she'd done the best she could, and it was definitely better than just chewing on ripe grain. And Rowan knew the perfect person who could use the first sample.

Of course, finding Helena was another matter completely. Rowan was starting to wonder if she'd gone off with Cross for some Cross-lovin' good times.

( but without the green alien sex )

Who: Cross and Helena
When: night
Where: by the fire

It had been an extremely long day, but Cross was satisfied with the work they'd gotten done. Once the logging crew had returned to the island, he'd eaten and washed up, and it was full dark by the time he ambled back to the fire just outside the lean-tos. He picked out Helena from amidst the other shapes that huddled in the dimness and lowered himself down to sit beside her, shaking out the damp rag in his hand to show her. "I think it's done," he said of the shirt he'd been wearing when he'd arrived here. "S'there enough cloth left to use for anything?"

Helena had marked his arrival as she always did. She was used to Cross taking his time coming back from a day of labor. He was so fastidiously clean despite their surroundings but she liked that about him. Without the benefit of hot water and deodorant he almost always smelled of the cucumbery freshness from the soap pods. Beneath that, though, was the pleasant musk of his own skin. Damp or not, she graduated toward him and took the shirt from him. "Hmm, don't know," she said honestly. "The girls can always use rags though, if you're willing to give it up." She arched a brow at him. Coping with the natural course of femininity wasn't pleasant or something they even enjoyed discussing in this place. She'd only suffered with it once so far but she was due again in a little more than a week. No hot baths or water bottles, muscle relaxers or the most basic in hygiene products had left her testy and miserable. She supposed it would just become something they got used to. "And I'll make you something to replace it." She fingered the green thread she was currently working with. They were a tall pair of socks. She had delivered a similar pair to Rowan along with her poncho earlier that day. She was hoping to have the above-the-knee socks finished for Analiese and Coop by the next evening.

It took Cross a few seconds to figure out what Helena was talking about when she said the girls could use rags, but then it clicked and he nodded. "I can't really use it for anything," he pointed out. It wasn't something he'd really thought about, but now that she'd mentioned it, he could see how not having the most basic of supplies could be an issue. The shirt was too full of holes and rents and too stained for anyone to want to wear it again, so it might as well go to good use. He'd found that most of the time he went around without it, anyway. "Wonder how long it'd take to make a shirt that'd fit me?" he mused. Helena was getting quite fast at knitting by now. He sighed, letting his shoulders relax; he'd felt tense as metal wire all day long. "How you feelin'?" he wanted to know, glancing over at her again.

( Favourite Company At The End Of The Day )

Who: Helena and OPEN to anyone at camp during the attack of the dogs.
When: Mid-Morning
Where: Her lean-to
What: Sustaining an injury and giving one back
Rating: TBD

Helena had gotten up with the sun and dug a fresh batch of the clams even further down the beach than she normally did. She was starting to worry about depleating that resource as quickly as they had in the Forest. Needless to say, she never failed to find clams when she dug deep enough. She just worried about the day that she wouldn't. Today had been full of luck, though. She'd occupied herself cutting seaweed and laying in a pit of clams to steam. She'd waved the guys off when they had sailed across the lake in Bazzer's boat, paddling themselves with sticks for oars. She hoped they'd luck out in finding wood. The sooner they could see about the lumber for the meeting hall, the sooner it would be built and everyone would be safe.'

Once the chore of baking the clams for lunch was started there really wasn't much else to do but wait. No one could afford idle time these days so she set her bottle of water in the shade beside the lean-to and dragged out her basket of yarnballs and knitting needles. Inside, rolled up tightly, was the green and blue mottled poncho she was making for Rowan. It had started out as a sweater for Rook but once that fellow had taken off after Payne's tribe, she'd morphed it into something more practical in the here and now. Her dear friend was outgrowing her clothing and the poncho would keep her warm on cold and damp days.

So it was that she spent a few lovely hours in the early morning sun throwing stitches and building on her project. It was just about done, she decided, sure that it would reach about to the waist on Rowan, even if she got enormously pregnant. As she was folding up the project to switch to another for a while (a reddish pink bikini top for herself to make her feel a bit more comfortable) when she hear Coop holler from down the beach. Stuffing everything down into the basket, she stood up and brushed herself off. What was the girl saying? Something about dogs?

( Where Did They Come From? )

Who: Cross and Helena
When: evening
Where: at the edge of the stream near camp, then their lean-to

The weather had been incredible today, breezy and warm, and Cross had taken full advantage of it. He'd spent the majority of his day repairing their lean-to, mudding the second wall and then moving on to work on the others. He'd started a frame for another of the small structures in the late afternoon, getting as much accomplished as he could before it was time to go and wash up before dinner. He'd made quick work of it despite how nice the cool water had felt on his sunburned neck and shoulders and then made his way back to camp to partake in the seafood stew and grazer jerky that someone-- possibly Sophie-- had prepared.

Now he was washing the plate he'd used; it was one of a set that Ryan had made, and it was actually a cross between a plate and a bowl, with the edges curved up so liquids would not readily pour off of it. He was using sand to clean its surface, only halfway listening to the faint sounds from camp behind him. Once he'd finished with the sand, he'd rinse it in the lake. His close-cropped head was bent as he concentrated on his task; Helena had made good on her promise to trim his hair with the sharply-honed blade of his knife, and he was pleased with the job she'd done.

Helena came down to the water with her own plate. So far everyone had been really good about cleaning what they used and returning the clean dishes to the communal stack next to the fire. She had a lot of things to be grateful for and the small price of still having to do with dishes, well, it was a small thing to accept, given how far pottery had advanced their little tribe. Having a plate to eat off of was like a little slice of home, even if the food didn't quite resemble a hamburger. Dinner had been incredibly satisfying after the day she'd had and she was looking forward to moving their now-dry belongings back into the lean-to and settling down to do a bit of knitting before bed.

( Routine Even In The Unroutine )

Who: Adnan and open to Alex, Kenneth, and Helena
When: midday
Where: near camp, by the water
Rating: tbd, likely G

Adnan had gathered the council together. It was a little nerve-wracking, being in front of all three of them at once. He'd never really done public speaking or presentations or anything, living the life he had, so it had taken a moment for him to gather his wits when it was time. But once he'd gotten started, it had gotten far easier. He felt like he knew what he was talking about, after all. Mostly, anyway.

( Okay, so ... )

Who: Helena and Ryan
Where: At the camp
What: Talking about plans
When: In the early afternoon drizzle.

Helena carefully picked her way through the debris of the camp. One of the lean-tos hadn't stood up to the onslaught and it lay in a sodden heap off to the side of the soggy firepit. She expected a rebuilding effort would start up again once they got the fire going again. That was the priority. Today, though, Helena had a bit of a priority of her own. "Ryan," she said as she crouched down next to the young man. "I have half a milk melon if you want it." There would be no roasted meat or seafood soup today. Not until they got the fire going. "I have some stuff I want to talk to you about, too." It felt like it had been days since she'd spent any time with Ryan. She wondered how he was adjusting to the island.

( an even trade )

Who: Helena and Jasper
Where: Around and About
When: Mid morning
What: Just talking
Rating: G

( Believe It )

Who: Helena and Cross, plus Olivia and Meredith (NPCs)
When: Just before dawn
Where: Their lean-to
What: Experiencing the storm

( lightning, hail & tornadoes )

Who: Helena and Cross
When: late afternoon
Where: the lean-tos to start
What: working, and then bathing
Rating: NSFW (sexual content)

The cool, cloudy day was perfect for working on the lean-tos. Cross, who was filthy from his stint at gravedigging and then helping to fill the grave back in, had scraped off just enough of the dirt that had coated his arms and hands so that he wouldn't get it on everything he touched. He was only going to do more work that would get him sweaty and dirty, so he didn't see the need to clean up yet. That could come later, once he'd raised blisters on his hands and worked his muscles to quivering exhaustion. He couldn't have articulated why, but it felt important to be too tired to think by the end of the day.

Cross was working on a wall for one side of their lean-to, using some of the thin branches he'd brought back the previous day. To start with, he planned to tie them together at the top and bottom with some of the tough cord the blind kid, Ryan, had been braiding together in between his pottery attempts. Once he had a rough semblance of a wall, he would figure out how to weatherproof it a bit; climber resin would most likely be the best option. Even mud would probably serve, he thought. He worked fast, ignoring everything around him as he knotted cord expertly. Some of the branches were too short, some too tall, but nonetheless he thought they would serve their purpose.

Helena had flitted around the camp, trying to stay out of Cross's way since his face had clearly said he didn't want to put up with any fussing or pleasantries that day, as well as attempting to be useful. A couple of the other guys who were working on lean-tos had noted Cross's method for building the walls and were busy at it. He'd mentioned the idea of filling the chinks in the wall with a paste of some kind and Helena had disappeared with one of Ryan's largest clay bowls. She'd scavenged some of the clay-like mud and mixed it with a bit of water to soften it and added some dried straw and sand. The finished product wasn't exactly like the stuff the ancient Egyptians had made bricks out of but she thought it might do well enough. Once it dried (if it dried) they could treat both sides with climber resin. Returning to the build site, she set the heavy bowl down out of the way and armed some sweat off of her brow. "It looks good," she told him, a little breathless.

( Without Saying A Word )

Who: Analiese and Helena
When: not long after the funeral
Where: a short distance from camp, at the water's edge
What: fishing... sort of
Rating: G

Analiese kept expecting it to rain. The sky was dark and the air breezy, and there was a tension in the air that would seem to indicate a coming storm. She was just glad it hadn't poured down rain on Quinn's poor, naked body in its hole in the ground during the service. That was a sight she wished she could forget, though she wasn't having much luck pushing it from her mind as she walked along the edge of the shore headed away from camp. She'd been leaking around the eyes ever since the funeral; it was more because she was scared than anything. She couldn't say it was because of Quinn, because as sorry for him as she'd felt, she'd barely known him.

( catching dinner )

Who: Alex & OPEN
When: Day 25, morning
What: Graveside funeral for Quinn
Where: at the newly created cemetery

( Requiéscat in pace )

Who: Helena and Cross
What: Winding down toward bed
When: Well after dark and the last meal
Where: At the campfire, where their bedroll is
Rating: PG for kissing.

( Kisses Sure Do Tell A Large Part Of The Story )

Who: Helena and Adnan
When: Early afternoon
Where: The beach, grasslands side.
What: Taking it upon themselves to look for something the tribe can use for shelter or food.

Helena doubled over, hands resting on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. Water streamed off of her in rivulets but she didn't pay them any mind as she sucked air hungrily. She'd crossed where the stretch was thinnest and was embarrassed to be the very last one to drag herself ashore. She took a minute to wring out her long hair and flip it back over her shoulder as she straightened. The day was...overwhelming, to say the least. The loss of Quinn was just stunning. Sophie was inconsolable and Thorne looked stricken. She'd given quiet permission for Quinn to be removed of his pajama pants before he was buried, the council agreeing that with the weather getting colder, they couldn't let a perfectly serviceable garment go in to the ground. Quinn Landry was well beyond chill and sunburn now. After bearing the scandalized looks from a few people to overhear her, she'd volunteered to swim across with the group going to explore, just to get away.

Adnan hardly slept, but when he'd gotten up that morning, he felt weirdly full of energy. There was no way he could sit still in this place, not having just ... woken up there. There had been murmurings about people swimming across the lake -- along with more alarmed vocalizations about a guy who'd died -- to do some exploring. That sounded just up his alley, and he was eager to go. He'd found a good out-of-the-way spot to stash his bag and his guitar case, and tagged along with a small group. He'd hesitated briefly, as wet boots were no fun, but then swam fully-clothed across the water and out on the other side. He stopped long enough to take his boots off, dump the water out of them, and wring the socks out before putting it all back on, and looked over as the last of them pulled themselves out of the water. He recognized the pretty Asian woman as one of their elected 'council', and walked over once his boots were tied, sticking his hand out. "Adnan Dosky, I don't believe we've officially met yet," he said, giving her a nod.

( Hidden in the grass. )

Who: Helena and Alex
Where: Down by the camp's beach
When: Not too long after first light
What: It's The Talk from the priest.
Rating: It's awkward but it's still family-safe

( I Don't Think We've Gotten As Close As You Thing )

Who: Helena and Cross
What: A little bit of medicine administered
When: Early evening, before dinner
Where: The edge of camp

Helena was seated outside of the lean-to where Jasper was snoring gently in her pile of blankets. So far she hadn't shown any symptoms of the illness that was floating around camp but that still didn't seem to stop her from claiming the day for recovery. No one held it against her. Helena herself was feeling worse and worse as the day wore on and she was sure she was coming down with it now. Still, she was helping Thorne by inventorying all of the herbs that several groups had managed to locate, tying them in bundles to be seen to at a later date. she was happy to see that his notebook was very useful here. Whoever its author had been, she or he must have lived in this region at least for a little while.

Separating the greasy feeling neoheather from the mushy scoops of pink lake algae and the fat bulbs from the burnbutter plant, she was practically in a daze, nearly unaware of any movement within the camp.

( Read more... )