Caradoc E. Dearborn (dearly_loved) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-09-12 12:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | caradoc dearborn, euan abercrombie |
Author's Note: This thread was originally posted two weeks ago (or thereabouts). Due to my taking an impromptu hiatus (sorry!), I deleted the first and re-posted. Here's to a swift kick in the rear to get me going with this game again!
Who: Caradoc Dearborn and Open
Where: the beach, as far as he can get from the tiki hut without actually being out of sight
When: this afternoon
What: Caradoc's opened a piece of baggage and is confused.
Rating: Depends on who joins!
He'd finally done it.
One evening while Astoria was out, Caradoc had worked up the courage to open his first piece of luggage. There'd been nothing inside, but he'd expected nothing, so he wasn't prepared for the clarity that had suddenly assailed him moments later. He wouldn't call the knowledge a revelation, or even an "Aha!" sort of discovery because he realized the information was there all along - he'd just been too foolish to see it. Rather, it was as though someone had taken Evan Rosier-shaped blinders off him suddenly so that he could see just how bad things had been. If his own murder hadn't been reason enough to walk away, then the memories would try to convince him. It wasn't just Evan, either. It was all the people who'd ever used him or taken advantage, with his willingly given or naively accepted permission.
He sat in the sand, shirtless under the sun. Sure, it was bad for him, but Caradoc couldn't bring himself to care. He was too caught up in reliving the last nine years of his life, from the moment he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express to the moment he'd breathed his last in the dank shadows of some unknown room.
His hands moved in idle circles, spreading wax along the deck of the balsa longboard he'd chosen as his own. The wood was clear gold and glistened in the light despite the scratches that littered the rails worst of all where he'd tipped over or off and dragged it along the sea floor. Days ago, he'd wondered exactly how he was supposed to teach others to hang ten when he couldn't even hang five without slamming into the waves or swallowing half the ocean. Now his thoughts were bent on how to deal with the feelings warring inside him.
Caradoc flipped the board, careful not to knock the fins against the ground or against the bright blue board next to him. The other board was longer and wider, better suited to beginners. So far he'd not given a single lesson, but he was there every day, so he got paid and that was what mattered. Not that there was much to interest him on the island, but there were some potions in the Apothecary that he wanted and needed to try. The wounds on his body had barely begun to fade, though the salt water did indeed seem to be helping.
Now if only it would clear up the mess in his head, as well.