There was something very wrong with Alice.

Something besides the fact that she was on a fucking island instead of deep underground in Umbrella's Death Valley complex.

She'd gotten used to being a freak. It was just...what she was. What she'd been made into. But now, so far away from Umbrella and the Nevada desert and everything else, she wasn't sure ( Read more... )

Chocolate was supposed to make a girl feel better, it had just made her feel worse. She didn't understand the attraction of eating it whilst feeling thoroughly depressed, ice cream was a happy thing and not to be sullied by silly human emotion. But she had made it anyway, it was the human thing to do and she had sat there eating it. Halfway through ( Read more... )

Brian was beginning to find some benefits to island living. Well, outside of the fact that he didn't get to kill people. He had various outlets though and he got to do a lot less pretending. He didn't have to always be a mild-mannered doctor interested in helping the world or its communities ( Read more... )

O god, what am I doing?

( He could feel it... )

Humans, F has discovered, are obsessed with keeping clothes on her. Rather than have them make terrible whining noises and huge eyes at her, F has given into this demand too. She's capering around in soft shorts, rolled down on her skinny hips and the ruins of a white shirt ( Read more... )

The printing on the note Martha was affixing to the bulletin board was admirably legible. Having moved aside some old fliers, she pinned the paper to the board, smoothed one hand over it, and stepped back to read it for the twentieth time that day:

WANTED: Platonic male companion for research and adventure. Must be level-headed, good under ( Read more... )

People have been running around like chickens with their heads cut off for days now. I don't really know much of anyone here yet -- Just acquaintances, mostly, people I've hung out with here or there -- so I've just been trying to stay the hell out of the way while keeping my eyes and ears open ( Read more... )

A book falls from the piano bench to the ground and gives a loud thud and that shatters him from head to toe and Peter can no longer deny it any longer, can no longer push away the resentment and the way that he can't stand the circumstances of his arrival. It's been biting at his ankles incessantly and here it is ( Read more... )

So Dexter was gone. Brian noticed it after less than a day, but he pretty much went right back to doing all the normal, boring stupid island shit he always did immediately afterwards. Nothing was more numbing than a proper, fixed daily routine ( Read more... )

Screw the world.

Actually no, I take that back. I like the world and sometimes I even like the people in it.

Screw the clothes box. Even after all this time it still treats me horribly, and I swear it's working in collusion with the jukebox or something. There's no other explanation for why it started blasting Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow ( Read more... )