G3 - Camp - James W's Shelter - Day 4-7

[supremeoutcast]

"Good" James replied, grabbing a nearby stick and poking at the roof of his shelter; the fabric outside had clearly been collecting water and was starting to bow inwards in a particularly ominous manner. "I built this thing in kind of a hurry and don't really want it turning into a swimming pool" he continued as the water gradually dislodged itself. He noticed that she had stood up, apparently preparing to leave and wondered if he should go too. It would, after all, be as good a time as any to do some rationing.

[ana]

"I built this thing in kind of a hurry and don't really want it turning into a swimming pool"

"I can tell," she said, regarding the drooping roof. Still, it was much better than the one she didn't even have yet. It'd been one incident after another for her and she'd had no time or inclination to build herself a shelter yet. So long as it didn't rain during the night, she was perfectly fine sleeping under the stars. And if it did rain? Well, she'd just barge into someone's shelter and sleep there. She already knew James wouldn't kick her out into a storm.

"Gonna go look for some dry clothes." She stated, pulling at the damp ones that clung to her skin. "You know where Gwen dumped what was salvaged?"

[supremeoutcast]

James had to stop for a moment before he realised who she was talking about; he'd had no interaction with Gwen since the crash and only remembered her from the pre-flight what-to-do-in-an-emergency-demonstration. The irony was not wasted on him.

"Last I saw there was a pile of things over in the camp area...unless Sawyer's managed to scrounge it all by now" he replied dissaprovingly. The redneck's selfish hoarding was largely at odds with James' morals. "Which reminds me, I need to get some water for the morning. Is Boone still in charge of rationing it?" he asked, standing up to leave.

[ana]

"Yeah, well Sawyer owes me one. If he's got something I want, he won't have it for long." Her no-nonsense tone sent a clear meassage that she wouldn't let someone like Sawyer get the better of her.

"Which reminds me, I need to get some water for the morning. Is Boone still in charge of rationing it?"

"I hope not." She replied, remembering Boone's attempt at being in charge of the gun the night before on the hike. He might have meant well, but clearly he was far too inexperienced to be in charge of anything as important as water rationing.

**Ana-Lucia leaves the shelter for G3 Camp area**

[supremeoutcast]

**James leaves the shelter for G3 Camp area**

[Hollywood Heidi]

DAY 4 ENDS, SEVERAL HOURS HAVE GONE BY, DAY 5 BEGINS

[vincent]

**Vincent enters from G3 Camp area**

Vincent sniffed around the outside of James' shelter hungrily. Walt was alright when he wasn't making birds collide with balcony doors, but Michael had an annoying habit of confiscating food that Vincent had obtained through his own cunning and hard work. It was for this reason that Vincent had hidden his pretzels beneath one of the flaps of this strange man's shelter during the previous night's commotion. Shoving the fabric asiden with his nose, Vincent grabbed the packet in his mouth, shaking it vigorously from side to side. It didn't open.

Where's that freaky clairvoyant master when I need him?

Vincent sniffed the air tentatively; something smelled good inside that shelter. Wondering what culinary delights may be concealed within, he pushed his way inside and began sniffing curiously.

[supremeoutcast]

James sat in his seat on Oceanic flight 815 as the plane shook violently, throwing people from side to side; he felt someone collide with the back of his seat as the oxygen masks fell from above. He seized it and pulled it down over his mouth, a lifeline that seemed increasingly futile in light of the terrible groans now emiting from the plane's fuselage. James looked behind him, scanning the seats intently. And then, in a moment that launched his heart straight up into his throat, the tail end of the plane ripped away before his eyes, plummeting to earth amidst the terrible screaching of twisted metal. James screamed into the oxygen mask, his stomach soaring as the plane's front end lurched toward earth like some hellish, unrestrained roller coaster; everything went black and suddenly, inexplicably, his face was being assaulted by rapid bursts of hot air...

"Jesus Christ!" James exclaimed loudly, jerking suddenly awake; Vincent the dog was stood beside him, tongue lolling, his face inches from his own. For the last five mornings he had awoke hoping that the crash had been nothing more than a particularly drawn out nightmare, but the fact that an adult retriever was now ransacking his makeshift shelter seemed to allude to the contrary.

"Get out of it!" James snarled, picking up the foil wrap packet of pretzels that Vincent had dumped on his chest and hurling them out of the shelter.

"Can't they keep that bloody thing under control?" James asked of no-one in particular, pulling on a different set of clothes and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked around the shelter for some form of nourishment; suddenly throwing the dog's preztels away didn't seem so clever after all.

"Well, he must have got them from somewhere" James thought out loud, standing up and exiting his shelter.

[supremeoutcast]

**James leaves his shelter for the G3 Camp area**

[vincent]

Vincent barked and ran after his now airborne breakfast, catching the packet in his jaws just before it hit the ground. The strange man seemed to have misunderstood; Vincent did not want to play fetch, but now that the game had begun, he couldn't help but feel invigorated by this extra attention. He carried the packet back toward the strange man's shelter, his tail wagging furiously. There was no-one inside. Vincent's ears drooped sadly. But then he saw him again, heading toward where the even stranger people slept. Feeling that they had moved on to some new form of game, Vincent clutched the pretzels in his jaws and bounded happily after the strange man.

**Vincent leaves the shelter for G3 Camp area**

[Hollywood Heidi]

DAY 5 ENDS, SEVERAL HOURS HAVE GONE BY, DAY 6 BEGINS

[supremeoutcast]

The first thing that struck James was the rumbling. He was sat inside his shelter, writing down his latest observations of whatever inhabited the jungle. Yet now he looked up. It was coming from somewhere in the distance, drawing gradually closer. He glanced down at his notes and realised that they made no sense whatsoever;

'Dod a chuck?'
'Dum a chum?'
'Did a chick?'
Doc a doo?'

James dropped these garbled scrawlings and crossed his shelter. He pulled the flaps open and looked across the ocean, his stomach suddenly leaping up toward his throat; an immense wave was bearing down toward them, towering upward and stretching as far as the eye could see. James yanked the flaps closed and pressed his back to them, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He closed his eyes, listening, terrified, as the roar of the ocean drew rapidly closer. He opened them again, only to jump two feet in shock; Vincent the dog was stood before him, a black top hat upon his head and a monocle in his left eye.

"Pardon me my good man, but do you have any pretzels upon your person?".

"WHA-"

James jolted instantly awake. It took him a few moments to realise what had happened; his dream may have been surreal to the point of ridiculousness, but its location mirrored his own completely.

"Weepin', creepin' Jesus" James muttered, sitting up and rubbing his face with his hands. He didn't know what the fish was that he'd accepted from the Korean man the previous evening, but was now beggining to suspect that it possesed certain hullucanagenic properties. He tried to think of an occasion wherein he may have offended him, but was unable to recall one, forced instead to concede that the dream was nothing less than a fragment of his warped imagination. Having made himself as presentable as possible under the circumstances, James stepped cautiously outside and scanned his surroundings; there was no sign of tsunamis, monocled labradors or any other such ridiculousness. He smiled to himself and, having allowed his eyes a moment of unbroken tranquility, set off toward the survivors' camp.

**James exits for G3 Area of Survivors' Camp**

[supremeoutcast]

**James enters from G3 - Area of Survivors' Camp**

"Jesus go-karting Christ' James muttered as he entered his shelter, 'I barely survive what must be one of the worst plane crashes in history, end up trapped on some god-forsaken island hell-hole right smack bang in the middle of no-where and I still can't get away from bloody politicians...oh, where is it?" he demanded of no-one in particular, rooting around before locating the desired water bottle. Snatching it up, he turned and hurried back out of the shelter.

**James exits for G3 - Area of Survivors' Camp**

[Hollywood Heidi]

DAY 6 ENDS, SEVERAL HOURS HAVE GONE BY, DAY 7 BEGINS

[supremeoutcast]

James walked through the sprawling jungle, pulling off his suit jacket as the heat became too much to bear. He had no idea how he'd gotten there or even what he was looking for, all he knew was that something was out there. He continued moving gradually forward, scanning his surroundings with a silent, unbroken intensity. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what he thought to be a map, only to find his most recent article staring up at him. A red blotch landed on the paper as he walked. Another drop fell, and another, until soon the words had been completely blotted out. James raised his face to the clouds above; somewhere overhead thunder clapped as the sky began raining blood down upon him. James looked around wildly, gripped by a sudden and terrible fear, and it was then that he saw her standing directly ahead of him, mouthing soundlessly as her head turned slowly from side to side, drenched in the blood that continued to pour relentlessly down, heavier and heavier with each passing moment...

"Lydia!" James half yelled, half gasped, snapping awake and sitting upright so fast he heard his neck crack. The nightmare had made little sense, yet the disturbing nature of its imagery refused to leave his subconscious, flashing before him once more as he closed his eyes and held his head in his hands.

The dreams are getting worse...and the voice just won't go away either...I need to talk to someone about this...

Like who? Jack? He won't understand. He'll just tell you to tell you to drink more water. To stay in the shade. All the things you've tried since day 1. No, he'll think you're insane, just like anyone else would.

Leia wouldn't think I'm insane.

Really? Do you honestly believe that? She already thinks you're a few short after your litle trip into the jungle...

"No arguing with that" James muttered, rising from his sorry excuse for a bed and readying himself for the day ahead. There were choiced to be made, past decisions to be faced, and even as he exited his shelter and sat staring out to ocean in almost ritualistic manner, an easy resolution seemed as far away as the rescue he had now realised may never come.

[ana]

LEIA

Seven. Seven times, Leia had decided to go and ask James for help and six times she'd talked herself out of it and turned right back around to go and hide in her shelter.

This is silly, Leia....you keep this up and there'll be a trench in the sand from the number of times you've paced back and forth in indecision. And then when someone falls in it and breaks their leg, what explanation are you going to give them? Sorry, but I was too nervous to just straight out go over to James' shelter in case he said no that I thought a better way to spend my time was to try and erode the beach single handedly? Oh pull yourself together girl, you're worse than a teenager....

So this was the seventh attempt, and Leia had gotten further than she had the previous six times. Which was a good sign. She just hoped he hadn't seen her lurking around the shelters while she talked herself into this.

"Hey, James." She said sweetly as she approached him, hiding something behind her back. "You busy?"

Duh...of course he's not busy...you've been watching him just sitting outside his tent for god knows how long.....

[supremeoutcast]

"Hey, James. You busy?"

The sound of Leia's voice brought James suddenly back to reality; there was something behind it he'd never heard before, something softer and strangely appealing.

"Not really" he replied, noticing that she seemed to be concealing something behind her back. "Am I about to be?" he grinned, suddenly aware of how many ways his question could be percieved.

[ana]

LEIA

Leia tugged at her lower lip with her teeth before replying. His cheery attitude gave her a boost of confidence.

"Yeah, I...er...have a favour to ask you." She produced a bottle of sunblock she'd been hiding behind her back. "Would you mind?" She aksed hopefully. "Blonde hair and fair skin doesn't like sun that much....and I can't do my back myself."

[supremeoutcast]

"Would you mind? Blonde hair and fair skin doesn't like sun that much....and I can't do my back myself."

"Oh, uh, no, not at all!" James replied; her request had had caught him off guard and he could only hope that the nervous twinge he felt hadn't spread from his gut up into his voice. "Just sit down, or lie down, or whatever..."

That's it James, keep digging that hole. Maybe God will be kind and supply you with a bigger shovel.

[ana]

LEIA

"Oh, um... I think if I just sit down that'd be fine." Leia said quickly, handing him the bottle and sitting cross legged directly in front of him. Fortunately, having her back to him meant he couldn't see the slight blush in her cheeks.

Leia scooped her curly hair over her shoulder and out of the way and pulled the spaghetti straps of her summer top down over her shoulders and waited for him to make a move.