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ataraxionlogs2015-09-15 09:24 pm
immuno) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-09-15 09:24 pm
Entry tags:
[ open ] you found me dressed in black
CHARACTERS: LYDIA MARTIN and OPEN
LOCATION: Forest
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Looking for Scott and figuring out forest life
one:
[ Sticking close to the others keeps her surviving, but it doesn't keep her stuff dry. Lydia brought as much as she could out with her the first time—an outfit or two, nothing more—and with the chronic rain that the planet saw, that wasn't doing the job. She pulled thin, willowy branches from enough of the trees and wound them together between branches to make a drying line for the clothes she wasn't wearing, but it didn't do much for her hair, or the state of the clothes she did have on.
At least it was warm.
Stubbornly, she hung them anyway, ignoring the telltale thunder crack that spoke of further monsoon storms to come. ]
two:
I'm looking for Scott McCall.
[ Lydia repeats the name to anyone who'll stand still long enough to hear her. A part of her already dreads the truth, that he's gone, lost somehow, and not coming back. Not dead, no, she knows that much. She'd feel it if he were dead, and he's not. But if Scott were still around the ship, anywhere that he might get to them, that she might find him, she wouldn't have to look. He'd be with his friends.
But he's not.
She simply refuses to accept the reality, insisting upon her search, scanning the various encampments people have erected since the crash. ]
LOCATION: Forest
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Looking for Scott and figuring out forest life
one:
[ Sticking close to the others keeps her surviving, but it doesn't keep her stuff dry. Lydia brought as much as she could out with her the first time—an outfit or two, nothing more—and with the chronic rain that the planet saw, that wasn't doing the job. She pulled thin, willowy branches from enough of the trees and wound them together between branches to make a drying line for the clothes she wasn't wearing, but it didn't do much for her hair, or the state of the clothes she did have on.
At least it was warm.
Stubbornly, she hung them anyway, ignoring the telltale thunder crack that spoke of further monsoon storms to come. ]
two:
I'm looking for Scott McCall.
[ Lydia repeats the name to anyone who'll stand still long enough to hear her. A part of her already dreads the truth, that he's gone, lost somehow, and not coming back. Not dead, no, she knows that much. She'd feel it if he were dead, and he's not. But if Scott were still around the ship, anywhere that he might get to them, that she might find him, she wouldn't have to look. He'd be with his friends.
But he's not.
She simply refuses to accept the reality, insisting upon her search, scanning the various encampments people have erected since the crash. ]