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Arthur King (chasingphantoms) wrote in inpoormerit,

King tilted his head a few centimeters as he listened to her accent, interested, especially since it was so difficult to place. He'd been in many countries and encountered many accents, and all that he could be sure of was that this was a mix of something. He nodded mechanically when she mentioned "the Commissioner;" he'd been wondering about what counted as an "escape attempt" himself. He'd even been a bit unsure that his and Cooper's little jaunt counted, but as no one he knew of had been hurt, he was pretty sure that it fell under the category of "exploration."

He took a few steps toward her towel, close enough to hear her over the gentle noise of the surf but not so close as to be imposing, and squatted down on the sand. She was very pretty, he noted, although his recognition of her beauty was more of a neutral fact one linked to desire. More interesting was the fact that she was behaving in such a relaxed manner. He certainly didn't get a vibe of complacency from her, and he had reason to believe that everyone had been on the island for about the same time. Perhaps she just responded better to this crisis than most.

"That's true," he agreed. "It would appear that it would take a hell of a swimmer to escape from here, though." He looked out over the sapphire blue waves for a moment, contemplating the irony of the beach's apparent peacefulness verses the direness of their situation. A leisurely swim was one thing, but no one wanted to swim for their lives, even in the loveliest of waters. Turning back to her, he extended his hand, the glittering band on his left ring finger catching the sunlight as he did, and added, "I'm King, by the way. I assume that you've been here since yesterday, as I have?"