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[self_named]

Duo was sitting on the beach. It was a pretty innocuous thing to be doing, and certainly not an odd one, give that there was, on the island, a hell of a lot of beach and not like a plethora of chairs. You had to sit somewhere. And he'd run out of things to do that day, basically. There was a lot of time to fill, and you could only spend so much

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[forged_hero]

Health reasons aside, Moist was spending his day with Mr. Fusspot, who had taken to the Island happily, with slobbery, inappropriate, doggy glee. He also was considering shaving, however, and possibly going by Robb until the entire Embarrassing Delivery Fiasco blew over. A man had to keep himself entertained, of course, but he also had to keep himself out of lock up

[self_named]

Duo leaned instinctively into the arm and his expression eased a little, even going so far as to allow the natural upward curve of his mouth to come back. Not much a smile, but didn't need to be much of one.

"Mmn," he hummed in greeting, and let his head loll onto Moist's shoulder.

[forged_hero]

Moist grinned a little, still staring out at the ocean.

"What would the scary Stark girl do to me if I shaved and started going by Robb, you think?

[self_named]

"Well, first off, she'd probably be able to tell from a mile away that it's you," Duo said truthfully, "and to be honest, if you like... really fucked with his image or his honor or anything? Even in an easily fixable, joking way?" He bobbed his head back and forth a little, then winced.

"She'd probably kill you and make it look like an accident."

[m_pinocchio]

In the past, it had occurred to him to wonder what the fuck it was with the damn beach, that everyone eventually ended up there, when things happened and when they didn't. Shortly after that he'd pulled a book off the shelf and it had fallen open at a random page.

We all like to congregate at boundary conditions. Where land meets water. Where earth meets air. Where body meets mind. Where space meets time. We like to be on one side, and look at the other.

So he doesn't really wonder anymore. It makes all the sense in all the worlds.

He hasn't seen Duo in a while. A lot has happened since the last time, and he gets the sense that something has happened now. So he says "Hi," as he sits down nearby but still at a respectful distance, and then he doesn't say anything else.

[self_named]

"Hey, man," Duo said, sitting up a little straighter, eyebrows lifting briefly. He offered the other man a brief half-smile and a slightly raised hand before he dropped it behind him again, sitting back in the sand.

"How's it goin'."

[m_pinocchio]

"Okay," he says, returning the smile. Okay for the first time in a long time. There's a lot of detail there, a lot of ups and downs, but it's all evened out so what it comes down to is... okay.

Which is more than enough.

"You?"

[self_named]

"Pretty good," Duo said, because things were pretty good. And after more than two years on the island, Duo knew that, probably, they had a chance of staying pretty good, as long as Moist didn't up and disappear on him.

Like everyone else important in his life had.

Wrong train of thought to follow.

"Someone disappeared who I kinda... I dunno. Just sucks, when people go."

[feedthegreed]

The main difference between home and, let's say, soddin' Cuba is this: at home, you don't 'ave to worry much 'bout runnin' into someone you've conned in the past. London's a big place, all things considered. Lots of marks millin' about just askin' for it. Cuba, on the other hand, well, you run the risk of runnin' into every conceivable mark you might've once had every single day. S'annoyin', is what it is.

Still, Duo's an alright sort and if Moist likes him well enough to shag on a regular basis, well, that's their business, now, innit? As for me, I plan on stickin' with tits. Personal preference, yeah?

"Whassamatter, there, son?" I say, sittin' down next to him. "Trouble with the missus?"

[self_named]

Duo snorted a laugh at the mental image brought on by the question, mostly involving Moist in an apron (and not in a kinky, sexy way, because... aprons? Nah.) and dragged a hand back through his bangs.

"Nah," he said, proceeding to scrub that hand over the back of his neck. "Just, y'know. Same old island."

[feedthegreed]

"What's it gone and done now?" I say, curiosity piqued. M'not about to turn Agony Aunt, me, but if there's some shit that Cuba's pullin' goin' 'round, I'd like to be made aware, yeah?

[self_named]

"Ah, just- people disappearing," Duo said with a shrug. "Unfortunate by-product of island living. Just happened to be the guy that- Father Callahan? The priest? He was pretty cool." Duo shrugged a little, absently scratching the corner of his jaw.

"That's all."

[heir_of_l4]

Even without the heart of space to tell him so, Quatre could tell Duo was feeling a little sad. Mostly because he wasn't talking, since most of Duo's emotions--happy, excited, angry, determined--were loud.

Quatre was fairly certain a quiet Duo could not be a happy Duo.

He sat down next to him. "What is it?"

[self_named]

"Father Callahan disappeared," Duo sighed, dragging his knuckle across his forehead and sitting forward a little to rest his elbow on his knee. Zwerg abandoned the crab in immediate favor of his sister. It was convenient as hell, having Annagovia around as a constant babysitter.

"It's just- I dunno. It just sucks."

[heir_of_l4]

Quatre watched the puppies--no longer very small at all--pounce on each other, and rested a hand on Duo's back. He was rather familiar with disappearing, by now. "I'm sorry, Duo."

[self_named]

"Thanks, Q. It's fine. I mean, it sucks, but I'm fine. People here get really freaked out when someone disappears, which I understand, but, y'know. You and me, we're already pretty well acquainted with the feeling." He offered Quatre a weary sideways smile. It hit him again. There were a lot of people on the island with lives at least as fucked up as Duo's, all kinds of soldiers and warriors and heroes, but there was only one other Gundam pilot.