[Chloe] Basking in the Sun
Who: Chloe Sullivan
Where: Camp Crash
When: Day 22, all day
Invited: Open
Status: Complete [Closed]
Dinner the night before had been uncomfortable.
First, Chloe hadn't felt hungry though she'd forced herself to eat, mostly to ease Rose's worries about her. Second, no matter how dangerously close she sat to the fire, she still felt cold. The radiant heat of the fire simply couldn't match the luxurious warmth of the sun and she was all too aware of the cool night air on her back, of the cold sand beneath her. Rose, Kate and Carrie were all willing to fetch more clothing for her, but it didn't help much.
That wasn't all. For the first time since the attack, she'd had the time--and the attention to spare--to grieve for Lex and Weevil. Lex had never been a particularly close friend back home, but he'd appointed himself her protector here on the island. Ironic, then, that she'd suffered her injury trying to save him from the wraith.
And Weevil--under his carefully constructed macho image, he obviously cared very much about Veronica. Given how much time she'd spent with Veronica, she'd spent a lot of time around Weevil too. She'd miss him.
Chloe had wondered if her friendship with Veronica would survive. Veronica was a very clever young woman, bright and curious and relentless in the pursuit of answers--just like Chloe. So they'd gotten along like long-lost sisters.
But.
Despite Veronica's adventurous spirit and the mysteries she'd uncovered in that Peyton Place-like little town she came from, Veronica was very conventional. Sheltered, even--at least from the many weirdnesses that Chloe had long taken for granted. Veronica's introduction to such things had been difficult. The shocks had come thick and fast, culminating in last night's attack by the wraith. Seeing Lex, Weevil and Chloe reduced to corpses--or nearly so--had been the last straw.
Veronica was better today. Silent and shaken, but not in need of a straitjacket. She had hung onto her sanity, but she couldn't bring herself to approach Chloe. Not yet, anyway. It was understandable, Chloe supposed, but it still hurt.
As soon as she could, Chloe had excused herself and shuffled off to her bed. She was moving more stiffly again, her joints feeling stiffer now. A long sleepness night had followed. She couldn't check her watch--dead. She couldn't play with her laptop--dead. She couldn't even read--her flashlight was dead too.
That was then.
This was now.
Chloe had left her shelter at the first hint of sunrise. She shuffled painfully down the beach and oh so slowly spread out a beach towel and lowered herself with great care and patience (and considerable grunting and wheezing) onto it. The breeze off of the ocean was chilly, but she ignored it.
She sat and watched the sky brighten over the sea. The first glint of the rising sun flashed over the water, followed--with remarkable speed, as always--by the blinding whole. Chloe sighed, relaxing as the light spilled over her. The ball of knotted grief and fear and anger in her belly relaxed and dissolved away.
The gritty-eyed feeling of too little sleep evaporated. She felt the chill chased away as sunbeams seeped into her exposed skin. Chloe was abruptly tempted to strip, exposing all her skin to the sun--and to hell with modesty! She resisted, but privately determined to keep that option open for later. She giggled, feeling giddy for a few moments.
She sat basking in the sun for a while as it began its ascent. When it had risen well above the sea, Chloe lay back and stretched out. The thought that she had hours and hours of this ahead of her was simultaneously relaxing and terribly exciting.
Where: Camp Crash
When: Day 22, all day
Invited: Open
Status: Complete [Closed]
Dinner the night before had been uncomfortable.
First, Chloe hadn't felt hungry though she'd forced herself to eat, mostly to ease Rose's worries about her. Second, no matter how dangerously close she sat to the fire, she still felt cold. The radiant heat of the fire simply couldn't match the luxurious warmth of the sun and she was all too aware of the cool night air on her back, of the cold sand beneath her. Rose, Kate and Carrie were all willing to fetch more clothing for her, but it didn't help much.
That wasn't all. For the first time since the attack, she'd had the time--and the attention to spare--to grieve for Lex and Weevil. Lex had never been a particularly close friend back home, but he'd appointed himself her protector here on the island. Ironic, then, that she'd suffered her injury trying to save him from the wraith.
And Weevil--under his carefully constructed macho image, he obviously cared very much about Veronica. Given how much time she'd spent with Veronica, she'd spent a lot of time around Weevil too. She'd miss him.
Chloe had wondered if her friendship with Veronica would survive. Veronica was a very clever young woman, bright and curious and relentless in the pursuit of answers--just like Chloe. So they'd gotten along like long-lost sisters.
But.
Despite Veronica's adventurous spirit and the mysteries she'd uncovered in that Peyton Place-like little town she came from, Veronica was very conventional. Sheltered, even--at least from the many weirdnesses that Chloe had long taken for granted. Veronica's introduction to such things had been difficult. The shocks had come thick and fast, culminating in last night's attack by the wraith. Seeing Lex, Weevil and Chloe reduced to corpses--or nearly so--had been the last straw.
Veronica was better today. Silent and shaken, but not in need of a straitjacket. She had hung onto her sanity, but she couldn't bring herself to approach Chloe. Not yet, anyway. It was understandable, Chloe supposed, but it still hurt.
As soon as she could, Chloe had excused herself and shuffled off to her bed. She was moving more stiffly again, her joints feeling stiffer now. A long sleepness night had followed. She couldn't check her watch--dead. She couldn't play with her laptop--dead. She couldn't even read--her flashlight was dead too.
That was then.
This was now.
Chloe had left her shelter at the first hint of sunrise. She shuffled painfully down the beach and oh so slowly spread out a beach towel and lowered herself with great care and patience (and considerable grunting and wheezing) onto it. The breeze off of the ocean was chilly, but she ignored it.
She sat and watched the sky brighten over the sea. The first glint of the rising sun flashed over the water, followed--with remarkable speed, as always--by the blinding whole. Chloe sighed, relaxing as the light spilled over her. The ball of knotted grief and fear and anger in her belly relaxed and dissolved away.
The gritty-eyed feeling of too little sleep evaporated. She felt the chill chased away as sunbeams seeped into her exposed skin. Chloe was abruptly tempted to strip, exposing all her skin to the sun--and to hell with modesty! She resisted, but privately determined to keep that option open for later. She giggled, feeling giddy for a few moments.
She sat basking in the sun for a while as it began its ascent. When it had risen well above the sea, Chloe lay back and stretched out. The thought that she had hours and hours of this ahead of her was simultaneously relaxing and terribly exciting.