(Untitled)

[not_a_quaker]

I was in a real goddamn good mood when I woke up this morning, and that's thanks to one woman. Maybe I'll find her again today, maybe someone else. Who knows. I'm a good-looking guy in my twenties, I'm in incredible shape, what woman in her right mind wouldn't want me

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[un_gloved]

Rogue was going to duck into Compound, grab some food for the road, and duck out of the Compound. That was the plan. Too much crazy radiating outward in all directions. She'd grabbed some clothing from the box, soft worn baggy jeans that just managed to stay on her hips which she rolled to just beneath the knee, and a faded, fitted white t-shirt with an ancient Yankees logo on it. She didn't want to go anywhere near her roommate, or risk wandering the halls of the dorm levels. She had a place to crash that was well enough away from everyone else, and as long as Wolvie and Brodie- and oh, gosh, she hoped to God, Kara- were unaltered, she'd get through this mess just fine

[not_a_quaker]

I flick ash from my cigarette as I watch Rogue walk up. I wouldn't have thought white hair would be attractive, but she sure as hell pulls it off. And for a broad, she's a real good baseball player. "Heya, doll," I greet with a somewhat devious smile. "Where you off to on this beautiful day?"

[un_gloved]

She blinked, just once, because he'd never called her that before, and immediately decided, nope, she had to be imagining things. It was Dick Winters. He was just... Dick Winters, it was just a universal truth. It was like Cyclops. He just was who he was.

"Plan on findin' a place to lie low 'til folks come 'round to what more or less passed for their senses," she said, shrugging one shoulder.

"'til the game, that is."

[not_a_quaker]

"People have lost their senses?" I say casually, before taking another drag. "Hell, maybe it's that some people have gained their goddamn senses."

[realnicetrip]

Harry slouched along, hands in pockets. Nothing was capable of shaking him from his despondent mood. For one thing, he wouldn't allow it. Being happy in a world so grim and dark and depressing made no sense at all.

Despite all that, though, something in his heart lifted a little at seeing Winters. He could trust Winters, at least, to never let him down. Hang on a second, was he smoking? And drinking?

Harry would have marched right on over there and smacked the offending items right out of that bad, awful man's hand, but for the fact that he didn't dare make a scene. Instead, he stood there, aghast, and placed his hands on his hips.

"Richard Winters, I am very disappointed in you."

[not_a_quaker]

"The fuck you talking about, Harry?" Jesus Christ, the man looks like a nagging housewife, standing like that. And here I was thinking he'd be saying about time.

[realnicetrip]

And swearing, too. Harry felt a lump form in his throat again. Couldn't he rely on anyone on this hideous island?

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," he said. "Slouching around like some common bum. Whatever will the men think if they see one of their officers in a state like that?"

[not_a_quaker]

I give a lazy shrug with one shoulder. "Oh, I don't know," I reply around my cigarette. "Maybe they'll think I've finally loosened up a little? You're the one's always telling me I should."

[the2ndwonder]

She'd been looking for somebody who worked in the kitchen, as ludicrious as that sounded. It was - there was so much going on today that after she'd dealt with drama on six sides, she just wanted to... be normal. Find something to do that was useful before she beat someone's head in. Then- there.

"Bi-" Donna stops before she even finishes the word, squinting.

Not Bill, obviously. She shook her head slightly, and then smiled. "Hi. I'm Donna." Seemed to be the way to go - and, once again, she had to thank this place. She was running up against every single redhead, it seemed like.

[not_a_quaker]

"Nope, not Bill," I say around my cigarette as I pull myself to my feet. It's the least I can do to stand for a pretty broad like her. "He's the one with the ponytail and the funny British accent. Hi, I'm Dick." I give her a charming smile and hold one hand out.

[the2ndwonder]

Her grip was a strong one, but not overly. She smiled up at Dick- the thought was so familiar she just had to laugh. "Funny - Dick's my best friend's name." She was smiling so wide she had dimples.

"I've never met anyone else who doesn't go by Richard."

[not_a_quaker]

"Everyone's always called me Dick," I say with a shrug, then take a drag off my cigarette and blow out the smoke away from her. "Your best friend is Dick? That's Dick...Grayson, right?" He's the only other guy named Dick I know of on the island.

[brookesmart]

Brooke's been jogging, hair pulled back tight into a ponytail, sweaty in a way that will be uncomfortable when the endorphins fade. She pauses at the sight of Bill, pushing at hair just long enough to curl damp and itchy against her neck. Next time she's investing in a sweatband, Brooke decides as she lets it down to smooth back again. Olivia Newton John pulled it off, so can she.

As she wanders closer, she begins to wonder if it's Bill at all. This guy is hot, and that's a decent clue, but something seems to be not quite right about him.

She blinks as she approaches, then breaks into a sudden grin. "Hi again," she chirps. "You cut your hair!"

[not_a_quaker]

"Not recently," I say around my cigarette, and I'd be annoyed at the mistaken identity if she wasn't so good-looking. "I'm not Bill," I clarify, standing, and offer her a hand with a charming smile. "Dick Winters."

[brookesmart]

Brooke's smile falters, but she's not going to say no to two men on the island as gorgeous as this one. "Brooke Davis," she says, cheeks darkening just a touch as she puts her palm in his.

"You look so alike, it's unreal."

[not_a_quaker]

I smile and nod, but I'm thinking, you fuckin' kidding me? Because yeah, we look alike face-wise, and we both have red hair, but he's got that goofy-ass ponytail and he's at least four goddamn inches taller than me. "Yeah, I've heard that before," I reply, taking my cigarette between two fingers and flicking ash to the ground. "So, to whom do I owe the pleasure, toots?"

[of_the_oath]

Sheba Hart was just as she'd always been. Forty with a little girl on the inside dying to get out. A girl who'd given up her childhood, her freedom, to be a wife and mother. Warring with herself on the inside.

She was just as she'd always been, on the island and off, a bourgeois princess in her layered skirts and her artfully tousled hair. The world was going mad around her and she couldn't deny that it was just a little bit fun.

When she saw the man, younger man, outside the compound with his charming smirk and his cigarettes and his booze, she put on a demur smile and said, "Might I bum one of those?"

[not_a_quaker]

"Sure thing, doll," I reply, holding my cigarette between my lips as I stand to get another for her. She's older, but she's still got it, and it's not like these were mine to begin with. I don't mind giving one away to a beautiful woman. I hand her a cigarette and get out the lighter I found somewhere, I don't remember where, ready to light it for her.

[of_the_oath]

"Thank you," she said with a smile, putting the cigarette between her lips and leaning forward to let him light it for her. She knew plenty of women who'd cringe at being called doll, but honestly, she found it rather amusing.

"Strange day, isn't it?"

[not_a_quaker]

"Yeah, you noticed that too, huh?" I say as I stick the lighter back in my pocket. "People acting strange all over the place. Seemed strange yesterday, too. What's your name, doll?"