walkswithheroes | (no subject)

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plot: jumanji

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Fred's wanted to go to the other island ever since she'd first heard it existed. Of course, there'd been the problem of her not really leaving the compound the entire first month she'd been in that dimension, and then spending a lot of time after that trying to get the bookshelf to give her anything but coloring books, romance novels, or ridiculously out of date physics texts. But now that there's a space station and a portal to it on the other island, she actually has a good excuse to explore there.

So maybe part of Fred gathering people together to search the second island for any more portals or oddities is that she's curious about how this island works compared to the one that everyone lives on. Maybe she thinks that there could be some key there to figuring out how to get off the island, since that's something she hasn't given up on yet.

Either way, they've all spent the day exploring, and after a while, it's not just Fred who seems tired. They've started to set up camp in a clearing, Fred putting up a makeshift tent with sticks and blankets before they all set about building a fire.

Of course there was the option of spending the night on the space station, but frankly, the whole disembodied robot voice thing is a little too creepy for Fred's tastes anyway. That, and even though all the instruments up there say they're safe, she can't shake the feeling that at some point, some door is going to open and they're all going to be sucked out into space.

"Anybody up for gathering firewood?"

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Alistair had jumped at the chance for a bit of adventure when it was offered to him. It wasn't as though he disliked the quiet life - on the contrary, he much preferred it over getting arrows shot at him and having to dodge swords - but that didn't mean he didn't miss the traveling aspect a little from time to time. This trip, he was sure, was just the thing for him.

"I can do that," he announced when the suggestion was made, as he'd been a bit useless up until then. Duncan rose, sensing Alistair was going somewhere. "I think I saw some fallen wood as we approached here. Do you think an armful would be enough?"

Having always possessed something of a scientific mind, Adelle is initially attracted to the expedition for all the reasons one might expect, but once she first lays eyes on their apparent leader, the trip takes on an entirely different purpose. She isn't Clyde Randolph or Dr. Saunders, she isn't even Whiskey. If she is an imprint at all — and despite any evidence to the contrary, Adelle is inclined to believe that which she knows best — it isn't one she has ever interacted with before.

Careful, however, not to provoke suspicion from the woman now called Fred, Adelle has, for the most part, kept to herself. Groups have never been her forté — life was much easier when she was widely feared by all — and rather than open her mouth and say something characteristically off-putting, she has put forth the considerable effort to keep any distasteful comments to herself. This, of course, means that she hasn't said much of anything at all, but for now, that will do just fine. Needless to say, she doesn't volunteer to search for firewood, but continues kicking a surprisingly sturdy log — sturdy enough for a makeshift bench — closer to the campsite.

Dean didn't know why he was here.

He knew what he was telling himself. That he needed a break, that Neil needed a break from his hovering, that pretty much everyone needed a break from the sadbastard face Dean had been wearing for months now, but did that really warrant coming all the way over to this island?

There were a few in the group that yes, probably were going to need some looking after should the island deliver its typical, unexpected dangers, but there were fighters in the group. He didn't need to be here, but he had to admit, sitting back at the campsite, looking up to an eyeful of stars, it felt nice. Like some kind of holiday he'd stolen and hoarded all for himself.

He really should help with the firewood, and he would. Any minute now...

It had just been a whim. Britta got restless easily, always had, and the island was a stark reminder of how long it had been since she'd just picked up and gone somewhere or at least had the ability to really consider it before proving too lazy or uncertain to bother. All kinds of exciting things were going on now and she'd been bored lately, but she still might have ignored that whim if Jeff hadn't made it exceedingly clear that joining the expedition would be monumentally idiotic on her part.

She almost wished she'd listened, because she didn't really feel she was much help after all, but she couldn't give him the satisfaction of entertaining that thought for more than a moment. "I don't see why it wouldn't be," she said to Alistair, unable to help voicing an opinion even when she had no solid criteria for forming one. "I mean, how much wood does it take to make a fire, right?"

Trixa tried to hide the snort and failed from where she stood, leaning against a tree. Sighing, she spoke, "We'll need more than an armload if we want the fire to last through the night with enough coals to cook breakfast. Unless we feel like remaking the thing in the morning."

She looked around the group. Please, whatever God might be listening, tell her that she didn't take this trip with a bunch of amateurs. Granted, she'd gotten way to used to delivery and take-out living in the modern age, but she'd been around for a century or two. She remembered how the whole roughing it thing worked. Not for the first time did she question the boredom-fueled impulse to join this merry band.

Still, she could at least try to make herself useful. "I'll go with you if you want." She addressed Alistair, figuring the kid could maybe use a few pointers.

"Don't everyone volunteer at once," Fred says, only mostly under her breath, in response to the unenthusiastic reaction. Sure, she's not an expert when it comes to camping-- at least not in a practical way, the science behind building a fire is simple really-- but she knows that this kind of thing is supposed to be all about people pitching together.

Of course she knows that the likelihood of any of her traveling companions being camping experts, or science experts or that matter, is slim to none, she still can't help but be a little disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm.

"I'll come along too." she says, brushing dirt off of her jeans, though she knows they're likely to get dirty again soon.

"Well, six arms are better than two. Unless it's on one body, because then there'd be a problem, wouldn't there be?" he said, offering each woman a friendly grin. He motioned toward where he thought he remembered spotting some fallen wood that might be useful. "Shall we?"

He led he walk forward into the treeline, his mabari walking beside him.

At the last remark from the man with the strange-looking dog, Adelle can't help from lifting a brow, the shadows hopefully obscuring her expression from anyone who might take note. It strikes her as the sort of thing Topher would say, although she suspects that the programmer might have continued down along that tangent for far longer before he was eventually stopped.

"Would you like a seat?" She asked no one in particular; the nearest person would do. If she was going to exert this much effort rolling a log over, they might as well get some use from it.

Too late Dean realized she must be talking to him, that she'd gone and rolled over the log she was sitting on all by herself, and he got up, pushing sand from his jeans as he headed over.

"Thanks," he said, looking her over, and though she was a beautiful woman he managed to do it chastely. Even had Angua not had him by the balls, Dean had no energy for lechery these days - his look was entirely to access her ability to survive out here in the wild. "Kinda distracted, sorry. This trip was a last minute thing for me."

"Really?" Britta asked, wandering closer but not yet sitting down. That was another thing she hadn't factored in when choosing to make this trip: being in the jungle with it getting dark made her a little anxious. She wasn't exactly pampered, she'd done the whole Peace Corps thing (and living in the Village), but compared to the main island, this place was a big unknown. It seemed relatively quiet, but they never knew what would come out of the trees and try to eat them, especially with people splitting up. "You look like the kind of guy who'd jump at the chance. No offense. I mean, we need that, right?" This was one of the few times she could think of that could be even remotely true.

Trixa only caught the end of the conversation before she headed off towards the wood-gatherers. Was everyone here on the spur of the moment? That was a sobering thought. She made herself a mental note to keep an eye on things, trips that started suddenly sometimes had the nasty habit of ending that way, too.

"Hey, Fred?" That was the girl's name, right? "What made you decide to put this little expedition together anyway? Hasn't anyone done a survey over here yet?" Hard to believe if there'd been people here for what, five-plus years?

"The space station," Fred replies as they walk, the three of them distancing themselves from the camp to look for decent kindling. It's not entirely true though, she's wanted to go to the second island for a long time now, hoping that there will be other answers there, maybe something that will give her an idea of just how hopeless it might be to still be looking for a way home.

Maybe other islanders have come there looking for their own answers, but Fred won't be satisfied until she's seen for herself.

"If there's one new thing here, then who's to say all kinds of new stuff hasn't shown up?"

"Same," admits Adelle, nodding. As someone who until very recently split her time between a grand office with phenomenal city views and a pricey beach-side mansion, the other island was enough of a change, but camping had not been a factor she truly allowed herself to consider until — well, until just now, when the realization will be spending the night in a tent finally sinks in. Needless to say, she is not entirely pleased with the situation, but given her entirely ulterior motives for being here, there never was much of a choice.

"Pardon my saying so," she begins, if only to divert attention from herself, "but neither of you strike me as the scientific sort."

"That thing in the sky?" Alistair questioned, vaguely recalling it being called that. He didn't think much of it since he'd heard about it, admittedly. The idea of something being suspended above reminded him too much of The Black City - a place floating in the air out of reach in the Fade, defying all logic he knew. "Looking couldn't hurt, I suppose. We're not planning on going onto that thing though, right?"

Dean chuckled, rearranging himself against the unyielding knots of the log. "Not sure a semester of book learnin' qualifies me, but maybe someday. M'training to work at the island clinics. That's not why I'm here, though."

Casting his gaze sideways, Dean looked towards the island. He couldn't see it through the trees, but Neil and Tom and those two little girls were out there, feeling god only knew what. "Just got a lot going on back home, figured this'd be a nice change, and Fred is..." Dean shrugged. "Sweet and smart as hell, but I wouldn't reckon on her in a fight with a tiger."

"Please, god, please tell me there are no tigers out here," Britta said, but she was mostly wry about it. There was wildlife out there — and she was as far from an expert as it got — but she was pretty sure there wasn't anything that big or threatening on this island. Nothing like dinosaurs anyway. Or tigers.

Either way, she wasn't about to admit she was just bored and had been goaded into this by the biggest jackass on Tabula Rasa, nevermind that this was the exact opposite of Jeff's intentions. "I guess I'm really just more the... curious type. I've been out here for months and haven't had a chance to come out here yet and see it for myself. Seemed like a good time to do that and be helpful at the same time." That sounded pretty good. If she hadn't been her, she might have bought it.

"I wouldn't say no, but it's not my area of expertise." She had to admit, it was pretty cool. Zeke would have loved it. And it certainly was new to her and she'd seen other realms and other worlds and knew full well she wasn't the be-all, end-all.

"And if we find something here, we'll be too busy to deal with any of that, right?"

"Exactly," Fred says to Trixa, and for a second is distracted by how different the name 'Trixa' is. Being named Fred, she knows how it can be when your name is just outside of the norm. Maybe she'll ask about it when there aren't more important things going on. Like firewood.

"And no, I figure there's already plenty of people researching up there, but no one's given a thought to giving the island itself a second look. What with the way the physical properties of this place changes, it's probably not much of a stretch to think that the portal isn't the only new thing that's shown-- ooh, what about this one?"

Interrupting herself mid-sentence, Fred bends down to pick up a stray branch, then holds it up for examination.

"I wouldn't think them indigenous to this sort of environment," notes Adelle, "but one can never be sure, given the island's propensity for tricks." In another life, a body identical to Fred's is inhabited by Clyde Randolf, who uses it to point a gun at her (Adelle's) temple. Earlier still, that same body is imprinted with a multitude of different personalities, each more dangerous than the next. That body, regardless of whichever imprint it represents, possesses the ability to inflict serious harm under the right circumstances. If nothing else, years of work at the Dollhouse have taught Adelle what a grave mistake it is to judge books by their covers; nothing is as it seems, and often the most severe of surprises are delivered in the smallest packages. However, the last thing any of them need is for a tiger to appear and test that particular theory.

"Wouldn't think zombies or vampires were either," said Dean without nearly enough irony, "but I've seen both. But hey." No sense in stirring up fear without reason. Vigilance would do them all some good, but hysteria?

"Never heard of anything like that over here. This place is like a vacation spot compared to the big island. Where you ladies from, anyway?"

"Oh. Good. Because I am a strictly ground sort of person," he clarified, as if that weren't obvious enough already. What Fred was babbling on about was something that went over his head completely. Instead, his focus shifted to the task in front of him, and even as she picked up a branch, he found a good, thick branch of what was likely once part of a rotting tree. He cracked it in half to be easier to carry.

"I haven't been camping outside since I first came here. Back then, I did it all the time," he said, in a conversational way. He was distracted from his train of thought when he noticed Duncan pawing at the ground in one spot and whining.

It was strange enough that he put the wood he'd gotten down and walked over to see what he was going for. At first he assumed it was likely some burrowing animal, but he instead found a strange object just barely sticking up out of the ground. "Hey, I think there's something buried here."

Alistair didn't even consider being cautious as he started to dig it out.

"Colorado," Britta answered. "Around Denver. So about as far from the jungle as it gets." He was right, though. This place had quiet going for it anyway. She liked the way the island was run, but it was nice sometimes not to have to deal with too many people. These ones didn't seem too bad, at least, which was a relief given they'd be here overnight together.

Trixa had picked up a few small and medium sized pieces of dry wood and was looking for more when Alistair made his little discovery. Looking over her shoulder she paused, wondering if it would even do to give a warning. Apparently in this place, finding random things just lying around was a semi-regular occurrence, but it didn't make it any less creepy, or any less lethal if it was a trap. "Might want to figure out what it is before you dig it up, could be dangerous."

Not that she thought it would do any good. God bless humanity, but its curiosity got it into trouble far too often. It was one of her favorite weaknesses to exploit, actually, put something bright and shiny and new and most people wanted to take a look...

"Really dangerous, actually, let me take a look." She dropped her wood and headed over.

Edited 2011-01-20 19:40 (UTC)

"She's right," Fred says, less interested in the branch she's picked up as she walks over to Alistair. Though there's the threat of it being something dangerous, Fred can't help the big grin on her face as she leans in to inspect. It's been a bit of a long shot that they'd find anything else-- though, statistically speaking, it shouldn't have been-- and the possibility that he's unearthed something helpful is encouraging.

"It could be some dangerous piece of scientific equipment... or-- or a piece of the space station, or something from the space station, or maybe something that the people from the space station left behind... just be careful with it."

Alistair looked between the two women, sitting back on his legs. He'd already uncovered a good bit of it before he was halted, though what it was was still a mystery.

"Should we just leave it, then?" he asked, looking between them. They seemed to know how to deal with it better than him. "Because I'm more partial to things that aren't going to kill me."

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