(Untitled)

[goodoldnick]

The meeting of the Boulder Free Zone Committee had been going smoothly up to the point that everything went to hell.  It came on suddenly, the feeling that something -everything was wrong.  Fran jumped up from her seat and was saying something, her wild gaze flitting from face to face.  "We have to get out of here.  Right...now."

That was sure

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[waltsnothereman]

Wanda was relaxing on the beach, sprawled out on a blanket wearing the red leotard-esque uniform she still busted out on occasion, when some guy hauled his bedraggled butt out of the water a few meters away. She was there mostly just to kill a couple hours, since she'd been in the near-constant sunshine for five months already with still no hint of a freaking tan, so it was was a fairly welcome distraction.

Shielding her eyes with one hand as she sat up to get a better look at him, she called out. "Heya sailor. You coming or going?"

[goodoldnick]

For about thirty seconds after gaining the shore, Nick could only lie there on his stomach and suck in great lungfuls of gritty air. Funny though, between the explosion and the long hard swim, and the confusion, this didn't nearly qualify as his worst day ever. Made the top ten, though, for sure.

Eventually Nick turned over onto his back. He got the feeling that he might be stuck there, too, like a turtle. He caught sight of someone out of the corner of his good eye, and tried, defensively, to scramble to his feet, but only got as far as his knees, staring at the lady with eyes [well, eye] like saucers.

[waltsnothereman]

Even by 'probably just turned up here' standards, this guy didn't look so hot. Noticing how he was suddenly on the defensive, Wanda put her hands up slightly before climbing quickly to her feet. "You alright there, buddy?" she asked, eying him curiously.

[goodoldnick]

Nick was more confused than he'd been in his whole life. Which seemed unfair, since his life was over. Here he was, in what seemed to be a very alternative version of the afterlife, but here was a stunning young woman with long white hair, holding up the traditional view of heaven if ever anyone could. And she just called him buddy. Nick nodded, hoping that would convey his ok-ness. Then he reached for the pad f paper habitually kept in his right back pocket. Of course it was soaked and totally useless to him. Great, can't even ask her to take me to her leader.

[spd_green]

Bridge was building a sandcastle. A very big, very elaborate sandcastle. It was more than a little challenging because -- before coming to the island -- he'd never really spent that much time at the beach, let alone building sandcastles. But he'd thought about it a lot and read some books and made a few miserable attempts. This was his best attempt to date.

He was adding windows to the third story of the east wing with a twig when somebody came up on shore. "Hiya!" Bridge greeted, waving a gloved hand. "I like your eye patch."

[goodoldnick]

Nick had decided some distance back to swim toward the castle rather than away from it. His decision was based on two strong feelings: first, that he might not survive in the baking heat without someone to guide him to water and shelter, if such things existed in the afterlife, and second, how dangerous could a person building a sand castle really be?

He staggered onto the sand and collapsed to his hands and knees, trying not to vomit from shock and swallowing so much salt water. He looked up to see the young man say '-like your eye patch', and started to giggle in that silent way that made some people really nervous. But it was too funny.

I'm dead, the pearly gates are made of sand, and St. Peter likes my eye patch. God must be really into absurdist humor.

[spd_green]

Giggling of any sort never made Bridge nervous. It was usually a good sign. He sat back on his heels until the other guy caught his breath some, then stood up to retrieve a gourd of water from the knapsack he had made for himself.

"Here," he said, crouching down by the other guy and holding out the gourd for him to take. "You should really stay better hydrated if you're going ocean swimming. It'll take a lot out of you."

[goodoldnick]

Nick nodded gravely and drank. Definitely an absurdist. But now that the immediate danger had passed, Nick's brain had gone from survival mode back into overdrive.

Maybe this was just the random firings of his synapses in the moment of death. It would account for the hodgepodge of images and the dreamlike state, but it was so extensive... oh well. The only thing to do was ride it out and see what came next. Nick pointed at St. Peter's castle and gave him a firm thumbs up before drinking again.

[milfweed]

Nancy was walking along the beach, occasionally bending over to scoop up a shell and place it in the large (now bulging) pockets in her sundress. She had some notion that she might make something out of them. She wondered if there was a hot glue gun anywhere on the island.

She was a little surprised to see someone swimming up to the shore from quite a distance. She paused, watching him, finally putting a hand over her forehead to shield her eyes a little but still squinting into the sun.

As he got closer, she thought maybe he was lagging a little, so she called with concern in her voice, "Hey, are you doing all right out there?"

[goodoldnick]

Oh yeah, Nick was tired all right. He had the idea he might not make it to the island at all. He felt like he wasn't gaining ground wither, that maybe this was purgatory and he's be swimming toward paradise for eternity.

Just as his arms finally gave out on him, a decent sized wave deposited him the rest of the way onto the sand, where Nick planned to lay face up in the surf till he got one hell of a sunburn.

[milfweed]

Nancy let out a small sound of surprise upon seeing him practically washed up onto the shore, and darted the rest of the way towards him. God, she hoped she didn't have to give him CPR; she wasn't even sure she remembered how.

But luckily, she saw right away that he was on his back, breathing, albeit heavily.

"Jesus," she blurted. "That must have been one hell of a swim. Are you all right?"

She dug around in her bag for a moment, and emerged with a bottle of water. "Here."

[goodoldnick]

Nick's eyes were closed against the sun, so he didn't catch anything she said. In fact, he didn't know she was there until she was shaking his shoulder and offering him water. He thought he might vomit if he drank it but he was so goddamn thirsty he couldn't resist. Nick never questioned her appearing out of the blue, either. After all, this was the afterlife, and the rules were different.

When he'd drunk all he dared to, he grabbed the lady's hand and squeezed it in thanks. Evidently, you didn't get to hear or speak in heaven if you couldn't do it on Earth.

[kaleidoscopeyed]

She was almost positive that he hadn't been there a moment before. Almost certain. She'd been out on this stretch of beach all day swimming and sunning and she hadn't seen this guy. She was sure she would have remembered the eye patch. She waved at him from the shallows as he swam into view and called,

"Hey! You need some help?"

[goodoldnick]

He saw her when he was sneaking a breath and checking his direction. A blond teenage girl waving at him from the beach. Nick tucked his head back under and thought to himself with a bashful smirk: Now, I know I always thought teenage girls were God , but this is just weird.

He finally made it to the beach, trying to stand, making it to his hands and knees, and managed a weak wave back at her.

[kaleidoscopeyed]

She rushed over, her face all concern. "Hey, take it easy. You okay?" She knelt in the sand next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder briefly as if to check if he were real.

[goodoldnick]

Nick didn't actually know if he was okay, so he didn't answer. Instead, he groped for the pad of paper in his back right pocket, but the bedraggled thing fell apart in his hands. Nick clenched his fists in frustration. Perfect. Really, just great. I get to play charades in heaven too.

He looked at the girl miserably, hoping she'd catch the drift and just start explaining.

[captainjack]

Jack had his routines and sometimes they were all that kept him going. With the day off from the ITF exercises, he'd taken to running on Tuesdays so it was no surprise to find him on the beach, running toward someone coming out of the surf. What was a surprise was that the guy was fully dressed and looked like he hadn't just taken a swim for the hell of it. After all this time it was practically second nature to recognize a new arrival.

He slowed and stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow and then drying his hand on his shorts. He decided he was right. New arrival, for sure, with clothes like that and a face he wasn't familiar with, mostly Jack recognized the expression...Nancy had looked like that when he'd dragged her out of the water in her bra and panties.

Now there was a good memory.

Jack smiled brightly and offered his hand. "Hi there. Capt'nJack Harkness," he said, his name running together like always. "You look a little...dazed."

[goodoldnick]

Up until this point, Nick had bought the whole ordeal as a final test from God. He'd come around enough on the notion of a Heavenly Father to be able to believe what had happened to him was part of some freakish but nevertheless divine plan. But...there was no room for someone named Harkness in this plan, the first part he didn't fully catch, but there might even have been a Captain element to it.

This was starting to seem less like death and more like a very bad, extremely vivid dream. He took the hand and shook it without being able to offer more than a dumbfounded stare in return.

[captainjack]

Definitely dazed. Jack shook firmly then pulled his hand back and tilted his head. Might as well get down to it, he thought. He looked out at the waves, back to the guy before him, then narrowed his eyes.

"You're new, huh? Welcome to paradise," he said, then flashed a hint of a grin. "It takes some getting used to."

[goodoldnick]

The glib explanation put Nick a little off his ease. Yes, he wanted someone to explain just what the hell was going on here, and this guy wasn't being an asshole or anything, but Nick wasn't convinced that angels or God or whoever would be so....casual. Casual, conciliatory, sanguine...those were really more the devil's area, weren't they? He kept a polite distance and scanned the treeline for a clue about where to go next.