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trans_92010-06-14 04:39 pm
riseupnchargem.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-06-14 04:39 pm
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Jamie had no idea what he was doing here.
He'd left the landing pod with a mental list of things to accomplish, and he'd set about them with brisk efficiency - obtaining comfortable, non-pulsing clothes, to start, and then compiling a careful list of the things he wanted to buy, in addition to the supplies from the list Wedge had given him, and comparison-shopping to figure out where he could get what he needed for the least amount of money before actually making his purchases.
With his business out of the way, however, he was left feeling purposeless and unsure what to do with himself. Being outside in the fresh air was nice - indescribably so, really, after being cooped up in Stacy's innards - but Jamie didn't idle well, and having so much free time to himself, when he wasn't expected to be training or working on something, was vaguely disquieting. Now, as the afternoon lengthened, he made his way to the beach, walking its length until he reached a point where the sand curved gently around a rock wall. It was quiet here, largely devoid of the multispecied throngs populating the rest of the beach, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the cries of alien seabirds overhead.
Hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, he stared down the shoreline, eyes half-lidding in a kind of reverie. He could almost (almost) think that he was back on the island he'd left behind when Stacy had taken him, that if he walked back around the curve of the cliff face he would see people he knew, people that made him strangely homesick for a place he'd never really considered home in the first place. Or hell, if he wished for it hard enough, maybe he would be home - his teammates would be waiting further up the beach, and the Hovercargo would be looming in the distance and Leena would complain at him for making them wait to go back to the base and he'd realize that he was fourteen again and the past four years had been a bizarre dream. Sure, it was possible.
...sure.
Movement at the edges of his vision drew his attention. He turned to see something with eight legs and iridescent wings pry a wriggling neon-colored arthropod out of a burrow in the sand, turn to regard him with a half-dozen compound eyes, and then flit off down the beach.
Jamie stared flatly after it. So much for denial.
He'd left the landing pod with a mental list of things to accomplish, and he'd set about them with brisk efficiency - obtaining comfortable, non-pulsing clothes, to start, and then compiling a careful list of the things he wanted to buy, in addition to the supplies from the list Wedge had given him, and comparison-shopping to figure out where he could get what he needed for the least amount of money before actually making his purchases.
With his business out of the way, however, he was left feeling purposeless and unsure what to do with himself. Being outside in the fresh air was nice - indescribably so, really, after being cooped up in Stacy's innards - but Jamie didn't idle well, and having so much free time to himself, when he wasn't expected to be training or working on something, was vaguely disquieting. Now, as the afternoon lengthened, he made his way to the beach, walking its length until he reached a point where the sand curved gently around a rock wall. It was quiet here, largely devoid of the multispecied throngs populating the rest of the beach, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the cries of alien seabirds overhead.
Hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, he stared down the shoreline, eyes half-lidding in a kind of reverie. He could almost (almost) think that he was back on the island he'd left behind when Stacy had taken him, that if he walked back around the curve of the cliff face he would see people he knew, people that made him strangely homesick for a place he'd never really considered home in the first place. Or hell, if he wished for it hard enough, maybe he would be home - his teammates would be waiting further up the beach, and the Hovercargo would be looming in the distance and Leena would complain at him for making them wait to go back to the base and he'd realize that he was fourteen again and the past four years had been a bizarre dream. Sure, it was possible.
...sure.
Movement at the edges of his vision drew his attention. He turned to see something with eight legs and iridescent wings pry a wriggling neon-colored arthropod out of a burrow in the sand, turn to regard him with a half-dozen compound eyes, and then flit off down the beach.
Jamie stared flatly after it. So much for denial.