WHO: Number Eight and OPEN WHAT: Exploring the Island WHEN: Tuesday evening WHERE: In the woods, not far from the waterfall WARNINGS: TBD, talk of death STATUS: Open/Ongoing
Eight had always found it easy to be happy when he needed to be, mainly because he was the kind of guy who had a positive attitude and usually was happy. That wasn't to say that his life was easy - it wasn't, and it never had been - but at least he had the right mindset. He tended to concentrate on the good things in his life instead of the bad, and by acting happy, he could generally convince himself that he actually was.
And being in a place this beautiful certainly helped with that.
Still, things back home had happened fast and the full impact of it was just starting to hit him. He was never going to see Lorien again. He was never going to see Marina again. Those horrible drawings in the cave had been true. He hadn't been able to escape his fate, no matter how he'd tried. He was dead. While other people might return home and continue their lives, he had nothing to return to but...eternity. Nothingness. The inevitable solitude of death. And that wasn't an easy thing for an eighteen year old guy to take, no matter how long he'd lived with the knowledge that death - for all of the Loric - was the most likely outcome. There'd always been part of him who thought that they'd win, that he'd be there when the Mogs were defeated, and they somehow revitalized Lorien, and he got to go home. Now, that would never happen.
He wasn't going to let himself dwell on it, though. He'd been given a second chance of sorts here, and while he still wasn't sure how he felt about the baby-bearing aspect, he was definitely willing to help. He had been helping. His Loric strength, stamina and his Legacies had let him contribute a great deal, and that had made him tired enough that he hadn't had a lot of time to think. Until now.
He'd left this evening to go see if he could gather some fruits or berries. He wasn't going to complain, but he hadn't eaten meat in his whole life, as long as he could remember, and he wasn't going to start now. He figured that they'd get around to agriculture eventually, so if he could just keep himself alive that long by finding mushrooms and plants and such, he'd be fine. He wasn't the type to condemn another's choices, but he wasn't the sort to simply abandon his own beliefs, either.
After a few hours, he had a pretty good haul, and a makeshift bundle that he'd made out of his jacket. He'd seen a waterfall a hundred or so yards away, and so to make sure he didn't spill anything on the way there, he teleported himself to the shore, crouching down by the clear pool to wash his prizes.