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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The bench was small enough that Erik was folded almost double with his elbows propped on the back, chin resting in his hands. He watched Kimberly through half-closed eyes, oddly fascinated with the conversation. It felt so -- calm. Relaxed. Another brief oasis of calm. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed just being able to speak with someone.

Even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances. He chose to ignore the first question because how did you answer that? Oh, not bad. Stuck on an island with a whole bunch of trigger-happy murderers as dead classmates but hey, I think I got a tan! Answering it in a socially polite way would feel ridiculous. He focused on the second half instead. "Hartmann? Yeah. A couple days back, I guess." He absent-mindedly swiped a lock of dirty blonde hair out of his face. "Didn't stop for a chat. Kinda like my blood where it is."

Even as he said it he winced internally. Gallows humor had an uncomfortable habit of becoming real here. "She the one," pausing to gesture at the swathe of slightly dirty bandage covering her arm, "who winged you?"

He didn't quite look at the match in her hand. Everyone had their coping strategies. No sense drawing attention to it, and no point doing so either. Abruptly straightening his back, he swung around to the front of the bench and sat, stretching long legs out in front of him and tugging on a stray thread coming loose from the ragged holes over his knees. His shoulders hunched into the familiar half-hiding position, every physical movement designed to minimize his height. He hadn't been as self-conscious with Brendan.

But then, that didn't matter now. The past was the past and it was going to stay there until he got off this godforsaken island and found a hole to crawl into and just scream. Brendan wasn't important. Kimberly was in the here-and-now (made him think of Kimkim back home smiling but that was in the past too) and he had to stay here with her if he didn't want to get swept off his feet.

Conversation was good for that. Probably the only thing that was. He indicated her arm again. "Should keep an eye on that. Apparently coastal rainforest isn't actually sterile."

marc st. yves
light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire
{food for thought}

phineas rosario
fall down seven times stand up eight

sebastian conway
can't see the forest for the trees
{book of sparrows}

(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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Burn On · The Mountain