[Ami] Not Curious. Really Not Curious. (open tag)
Scott wasn't the only one who received a surprise from the mystery box. After leaving him alone in their shelter and giving him a bit of space to deal with the fact that the item was here on the island, and the ramifications behind that, Ami didn't have to venture very far into the camp to discover that nearly all of the survivors had found an item of personal importance or significance in the box. Those that hadn't were likely as she was - simply avoiding the box or not having had the opportunity to come into contact with it yet.
It gave her good enough reason to not want to look into the box at all. She didn't know what could be inside that was of urgent importance to her, and she didn't want to know. The possibilities of it, personal trinkets and important items following a group of aeroplane crash survivors onto a beach, were astronomical and there was no way those items were here by coincidence.
There was no way that the survivors were there by coincidence.
Soon enough the rest of the survivors would start to come to the same conclusion. Ami hoped that her shields were strong enough to handle that and she hoped that the camp was strong enough to pull together as a community.
They were all going to need one another now more than ever. Something more than chance brought them here; this had been deliberate and it would take finding out who and what did it in order to get them all home.
Ami changed direction and headed toward the cook fire. In the ensuing chaos, the stew and preparations had been forgotten. It was easy enough to skirt around the crowd by the box and make her way to the cook fire and the suspended kitchen sink. There was still a pile of arrowroot to be stripped and added, and there were yams that needed to be peeled, that could likely be roasted in teh hot coals; they still had to eat after all was said and done.
Sitting down quietly, she went to work on tending to the stew pot.
She focused single-mindedly on what she was doing, resisting the urge to go look in the box and trying hard to convince herself that she had no interest in it. Ami didn't look up until a shadow fell across her workspace and a voice politely asked, "Need some help?"
It gave her good enough reason to not want to look into the box at all. She didn't know what could be inside that was of urgent importance to her, and she didn't want to know. The possibilities of it, personal trinkets and important items following a group of aeroplane crash survivors onto a beach, were astronomical and there was no way those items were here by coincidence.
There was no way that the survivors were there by coincidence.
Soon enough the rest of the survivors would start to come to the same conclusion. Ami hoped that her shields were strong enough to handle that and she hoped that the camp was strong enough to pull together as a community.
They were all going to need one another now more than ever. Something more than chance brought them here; this had been deliberate and it would take finding out who and what did it in order to get them all home.
Ami changed direction and headed toward the cook fire. In the ensuing chaos, the stew and preparations had been forgotten. It was easy enough to skirt around the crowd by the box and make her way to the cook fire and the suspended kitchen sink. There was still a pile of arrowroot to be stripped and added, and there were yams that needed to be peeled, that could likely be roasted in teh hot coals; they still had to eat after all was said and done.
Sitting down quietly, she went to work on tending to the stew pot.
She focused single-mindedly on what she was doing, resisting the urge to go look in the box and trying hard to convince herself that she had no interest in it. Ami didn't look up until a shadow fell across her workspace and a voice politely asked, "Need some help?"