(Untitled)

[pinata_helmet]

Things were very blurry. J.D. rolled over onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut. He liked this warm sleepy place, he could see appletinis floating tantalizingly close to his outstretched hands. "I'll only need one of you!" he called, hands cupped around his mouth. He heard his voice echo, and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Just a little

Comments

[robin_sparkles]

Robin gave the guy a dubious look as she studied him, not sure just what one was supposed to say to that. Really. "No, if I had, I would've drank it," was her serious, thoughtful response. "Also, appletini?" she echoed with a scoff. "Chick drink, much?"

[pinata_helmet]

Damn, he thought, surely this one is a conspirator. Or worse... he finally scraped the remaining sand from his eyes and squinted up at the woman. "I like the way they tickle my tastebuds," he said, "and they can be very masculine." He raised a brow in an exaggerated expression and leaned back on one arm only. "You should very well know this, figment of my imagination." As he leaned back on his arm it slid back in the sand. J.D. was, however, a Cool Guy and went with the flow instead of righting himself.

[robin_sparkles]

Robin just stared at him for a while, wondering if he was actually being serious. When she'd determined that yes, yes, he was for real and had pretty much wiped out in the sand, she kinda started to feel sorry for them. "Sorry to say that I'm one-hundred percent real, all of me," Robin said. "Yeah, you're not dreaming."

[pinata_helmet]

J.D. bolted upright and stood suddenly with a carefree 'I meant to do that' look and pushed his gelled hair back from his temple. "I tell myself that every day." He looked around to make sure no one else had seen, not that it would have mattered much in the ongoing dialog between his conscious and subconscious mind. "Now, are you Mrs. Solomon my third grade teacher or Mrs. Richardson my fifth grade music teacher? I just can't remember."

[jesus_h_cox]

For weeks, now, Dr. Cox had envisioned what would happened if JD had shown up. Hell, he was so desperate for something to do that he even considered forgiving the little woman and picking up like nothing had happened, never speaking of it again and maybe- just maybe- giving him the hug he'd been craving for the past year. Yeah, his voice would sound good uttering a low 'it's damn good to see you, Newbie,' with a harsh pat on the back, followed by a quick trip of the feet just to make the moment sweeter.

Oh, Perry, you devil, somebody's got to stop you, Cox thought to himself.

When he saw the frame of a much younger woman taking up space in the sand, he wasn't sure what to do, at first. He stopped walking, there was a-that, and his arms went across his chest, which automatically set his jaw to work. Yeah, he hadn't known how to react, but he was starting to get the idea.

He whistled. Loudly. It was one steady, sustained note, at first, but it managed a sort of Mariah Carey flourish and settled back in the same starting note.

[pinata_helmet]

J.D. knew that whistle. He knew it very well. The Perry he knew and the Perry in his head were remarkably similar. He pawed the sand out of his eyes. "Oh magic daydream island, bring me a wet towel! Perry," he held out his hand to Dr. Cox, "you wouldn't mind leading me to the water, would you?" he asked, and stuck out his lower lip.

[jesus_h_cox]

Oh, see, for a second there, Newbie'd had a chance. Hell, there had even been something that a therapist would have described as relief that had seized him by the cajones for a quick one, but it was gone. It was more than gone.

In a wordless and damn near soundless ninja-like move, Dr. Cox took two giant steps, trainers silently indenting the sand, and he grabbed his med student by the front of the shirt and hauled him up, without so much as a growl, a name, or an exhalation of breath. He just... grabbed him up and shoved him back against a nearby tree, eyes flashing both dangerous and masculine.

[pinata_helmet]

Hitting the tree knocked the wind out of him, and J.D. opened his eyes through the grit of sand. He coughed sand and looked at Dr. Cox with furrowed brows. "Dr. Cox," was all he managed to get out before he coughed again. This was nothing like normal daydreams, in that he didn't usually get his ass handed to him.

[babyviper]

O-Ren waited until she was close enough to reach out and nudge him with the toe of her boot. She'd seen a lot of drunks in her time, but never this stupid looking. If she didn't roll him over, he might drown in the sand.

"Hey," she said. "Dumbass. What's wrong with you?"

It could be so many things.

[pinata_helmet]

He sat up and shook his head, trying to get the sand off of his face. "Outside of my imagination, am I still in jail?" he asked this young-sounding figment of his imagination. When he had removed enough of the sand from his face he squinted at the girl. "Also, I'm not a dumbass," he told her (or, rather, himself). "But I already know that." He pursed his lips with a nod.

[babyviper]

"Then what are you?" O-Ren continued to stare down at him. "Besides drunk and girly." Both her katana and her wakizashi were readily visible, as was the pistol on her thigh. "Don't worry. I won't kill you."

It would be like squishing an ant.

[pinata_helmet]

He furrowed his brow. "I knew I had a tiny ninja in my head, but I had no idea how real that was..." He was speaking aloud, and rambling to boot. "I should hope not, little ninja girl," he said more loudly, and opened one eye wide in a distrusting glance. "I may be girly," he said, clarifying the point with a flourish of his finger, "but I am no longer drunk."

[bitofredemption]

James was returning from the compound; they had no need for supplies in the cabin but he had decided to visit to retrieve literature. It was a common need in their home, as a pair of avid readers. Though the bookshelf was always obliging and this time in had a small collection Elizabeth might find as interesting has he would. The books were tucked under his arm, and as he walked along the beach he saw there was a man; whom he found upon cautious approach had a bizarre yet almost unnervingly serene expression a he lay sprawled in the sand. “Sir?” James attempted uncertainly, peering down at him. Daydream

[pinata_helmet]

J.D. heard the man's crisp accent and used the long sleeve of his t-shirt to wipe his face clean. When he opened his eyes and looked at the man he understood. "It's a shipwreck dream," he said softly, and a grin spread across his face. Who knew I knew so much about period dress, he thought, quite impressed, and accents in my head have never been this believable. "No, I'm fine," he said as he got to his feet, brushing off his jeans. When he glanced around he didn't see any wreckage or signs of other people, only an expanse of sand, ocean, and some very tropical trees. This looks the same as any other South Pacific deserted island in the movies, he thought, shaking his head. "You'd think I'd be able to come up with something a little more creative," he mused, and scratched the side of his head.

[bitofredemption]

Dream? Oh dear, this must be a new arrival. Especially if he believed there had been a shipwreck involved. The smile he had was still ..quite disturbing. Really one sincerely hoped the Island was new to him as James attempted not to look as ill at ease as he felt. “No. It-.” But without expecting it, James was almost too happily reassured of this fellow's soundness, and he got to his feet at once. If he wasn't hurt, then it must be he was just highly confused at the very least, though justified somewhat for it, having only just appeared here. He gave him a moment to gauge his surrounds, and clearly he was yet still under the impression it was a dream. That he had imagined it all. James let out a long breath. He was really not very good with kind introductions, it was difficult to be.. well, terribly positive.. “I can assure you this isn't a dream.” He bit back the word unfortunately, or regretfully. “As odd as it seems, you have found yourself upon an inhabited Island that is quite real.” Perhaps best to let him think on that first,

[pinata_helmet]

J.D. rubbed his palms together. "Oh, goodie! Gilligan's Island! I love this one!" he said with emphasis and a large grin. He glazed over the part the man had said about this being reality, because he told himself that at least a dozen times a day. He raised a hand to salute the man (it just seemed the right thing). "Now bring me to the Skipper!" He hoped that the Skipper would look like Dr. Cox.

[how_youdoin]

Joey stopped short, scratched the side of his head when he was put on the spot. "Uhhh....uh...," he glanced around the beach. Dammit, just when he needed Chandler to answer a girly question like that. Stupid island.

"I've seen a guy with fangs if that's any help?" Joey eventually offered, eyes widening expectantly.

[pinata_helmet]

When J.D. wiped his face clean of sand, all the while spluttering something about appletinis not being a vampire's drink of choice (too green), he squinted up at the man whose very particular tone of voice he recognized, albeit vaguely. J.D. held a hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. "I take it this means there are no appletinis?" He shook his head sadly. "I have the feeling that even if I concentrate it won't help. This daydream," he said sagely, "seems to be quite insistent on its degree of realism." J.D. struggled with his balance as he got to his feet.

[how_youdoin]

"You're tellin' me," Joey agreed, tentatively patting the guy on his shoulder in his attempt to help him stand. His hair reminded him of Chandler with bed head. "It's not even a porno either," he said brilliantly, with a knowing look. "And none of the naked women are hookers." Not that Joey had thought the island was a movie set at all.....

[pinata_helmet]

J.D. usually reserved those sorts of daydreams for his special J.D. and J.D. alone time, and so was relieved to hear that he'd not mistakenly slipped into one of those while his physical self was incarcerated in a jail cell with a dozen bikers. "They're usually not," J.D. said distantly, looking up over his companion's right shoulder. A Mexican apple theif would never sleep with a hooker, he thought, and shook his head. Come to think of it, I don't think I would either. He wasn't quite sure where his brain was going with this one, and so decided not to pursue the thought.