Like a bad dream , only awake. On a beach.
Rogue had been phet the hell up with the bad joojoo or mojo or whatever that was radiating out of that damn wooden doll. She'd gone out to the beach on day two, clad in a green a yellow string bikini, and, as the tide was starting to roll out, set the stupid ugly thing on the crest of a wave. She stood, arms folded and watched it bob farther and farther away until it disappeared under the surface of the sea.
It had been two days of misery. The white sateen pajama set she'd found and had been saving to use for her wedding dress had been destroyed by a rabid monkey. She'd been walking away from losing the fabric when a large drip of some sort of bizarre and foul smelling tree sap had dropped from a branch. When she'd gotten back to the compound, it was definitely too late to wash it out.
So she'd had to cut it off, instead. So she had a chunk of hair missing from the front, leaving her with an odd fall of bangs and hair curling around her cheek and jawline and then ending abruptly. She was pissed about it.
Also, she was pretty sure her fiance was avoiding her, which was just what she needed. Enough that the stupid silly scrapbook of wedding ideas was ruined, the fabric for the dress destroyed- now her stupid man'd gone and run off.
But it was fine. Everything was fine. She'd watched the horrible little wooden doll disappear. That was that. She turned, wading from waist-deep water to thigh-deep water, and took a deep breath and then sighed out all her stress.
And a huge wave crashed over her head.
When it had passed, her hair was soaked and hanging straight, and her rage was returning. Until she noticed the wave had taken her suit with it.
As the reality that she was completely nude and about fifteen minutes away from the compound or Ned's hut set in, the rage was briefly subsumed by humiliation. She crouched, green eyes wide, and started searching desperately about in the water, still swirling with the changing tide, for her suit.
It was gone.
A small wooden idol had washed up on shore, though.
".........GALL DANGIT," she shouted to the blessfully empty beach, accent back in such full force that it turned the God dammit in her head into... well, into gall dangit.
Her day couldn't get much worse.
[Except it totally can! You can help. Just tag your pup in to the poor stranded superhero's thread. It's just before sunset, so still bright out!]
It had been two days of misery. The white sateen pajama set she'd found and had been saving to use for her wedding dress had been destroyed by a rabid monkey. She'd been walking away from losing the fabric when a large drip of some sort of bizarre and foul smelling tree sap had dropped from a branch. When she'd gotten back to the compound, it was definitely too late to wash it out.
So she'd had to cut it off, instead. So she had a chunk of hair missing from the front, leaving her with an odd fall of bangs and hair curling around her cheek and jawline and then ending abruptly. She was pissed about it.
Also, she was pretty sure her fiance was avoiding her, which was just what she needed. Enough that the stupid silly scrapbook of wedding ideas was ruined, the fabric for the dress destroyed- now her stupid man'd gone and run off.
But it was fine. Everything was fine. She'd watched the horrible little wooden doll disappear. That was that. She turned, wading from waist-deep water to thigh-deep water, and took a deep breath and then sighed out all her stress.
And a huge wave crashed over her head.
When it had passed, her hair was soaked and hanging straight, and her rage was returning. Until she noticed the wave had taken her suit with it.
As the reality that she was completely nude and about fifteen minutes away from the compound or Ned's hut set in, the rage was briefly subsumed by humiliation. She crouched, green eyes wide, and started searching desperately about in the water, still swirling with the changing tide, for her suit.
It was gone.
A small wooden idol had washed up on shore, though.
".........GALL DANGIT," she shouted to the blessfully empty beach, accent back in such full force that it turned the God dammit in her head into... well, into gall dangit.
Her day couldn't get much worse.
[Except it totally can! You can help. Just tag your pup in to the poor stranded superhero's thread. It's just before sunset, so still bright out!]