(no subject)
It was really amazing how you'd let yourself go when no one could see you. Not that Claude had ever been one to care much what he looked like anyway, but add that to the invisible thing and you go to the state he was in when Peter found him - grizzly beard and hot dog gut (well, hot dog and pretzels - it's just so much easier to steal from street vendors than from stores).
Six months on the island, though, and Claude actually felt like a real human being again. Okay, so losing the beard was cosmetic, but the rounds of push-ups and sit-ups and chin-lifts every day were just as much to get himself back into shape as anything else. He may have started suspiciously around the time that Bennet showed up. Maybe. Sure, being able to draw a gun fast is good, but being able to out-run someone is good too.
He still wasn't sure what to make of his life here. It wasn't that he was particularly enjoying it, but then he certainly couldn't say he'd enjoyed those seven years in New York, either. So if you considered his life in varying degrees of shit, the island really wasn't so bad.
It was still pretty early in the morning and he'd already been up to the compound roof to let the pigeons out for the day. He figured Claire and Peter were still asleep - and who knows about Bennet, Claude wasn't sure if the man slept at all, probably some sort of bloody robot - so when he got back to the hut he found a patch of soft grass under a nearby tree and started doing one-handed push-ups.
[OOC: You can assume that this is Monday morning, so late tags are welcome. :) ]
Six months on the island, though, and Claude actually felt like a real human being again. Okay, so losing the beard was cosmetic, but the rounds of push-ups and sit-ups and chin-lifts every day were just as much to get himself back into shape as anything else. He may have started suspiciously around the time that Bennet showed up. Maybe. Sure, being able to draw a gun fast is good, but being able to out-run someone is good too.
He still wasn't sure what to make of his life here. It wasn't that he was particularly enjoying it, but then he certainly couldn't say he'd enjoyed those seven years in New York, either. So if you considered his life in varying degrees of shit, the island really wasn't so bad.
It was still pretty early in the morning and he'd already been up to the compound roof to let the pigeons out for the day. He figured Claire and Peter were still asleep - and who knows about Bennet, Claude wasn't sure if the man slept at all, probably some sort of bloody robot - so when he got back to the hut he found a patch of soft grass under a nearby tree and started doing one-handed push-ups.
[OOC: You can assume that this is Monday morning, so late tags are welcome. :) ]