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Thread: [M] Crash Landing -- Revamped { Prae & Hannelorian }

  1. #21
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    It was a little unusual for the Scot to be on the peaceful end of an altercation. He wasn't a violent man, not by any means, but he did have a knack for speaking his mind, even in times where he maybe shouldn't. While this trait of his did improve with age, there was still a part of him that matched the energy of people that he interacted with. If someone were to approach him with guns ablaze, he would certainly be ready to raise his own.

    Because of this somewhat hot-headed trait, Lennox was relieved to see that Miranda had followed him over to the commotion. Part of him was just pleased that he would be able to keep an eye on her, but another part of him knew she was better suited to smooth over a tense situation than he was. She had a calmness that followed her, even in this time of crisis, and her ability to address the group as a whole was something Lennox couldn't even imagine doing himself. In fact, he hadn't even realized some of the other survivors gathered around until Miranda spoke an introduction.

    Lennox responded with a small, closed lip smile, and slowly removed his hand from the man's shoulder now that the gent seemed to be settling down. His gaze flickered between the people that had come closer, taking a mental inventory of just how many had the ability to walk around with minimal difficulty. He could guess that there were about ten survivors, including himself and Miranda. It wasn't quite as many as he had expected, but that number didn't include some of the survivors that may have injuries preventing them from joining the small congregation. This current number would at least allow for a few individuals to get off the place to take a closer look at where they ended up...

    Hearing his name pulled him back to the present moment, and his hazels naturally drifted back to Miranda. He listened just as intently to her words, nodding along to the information she provided, as if silently confirming it was all correct. It wasn't until she began to describe the island, that Lennox could hear soft mutters from the people that gathered. "Mireanda's right. We haven't been off the plane to give it a real look around...but from what I could see out of the gap in the wall, we landed on bloody tropical beach." Lennox finally chimed in, briefly glancing back to watch Miranda go fetch the sewing kit she had found before.

    He could feel some of the tension leave his body as an arm looped around him, and the Scot turned a little so that he could offer more of himself to Miranda for stability. The discomfort in her movements had been clear. He then tucked his head down, just enough that he could hover his lips closer to her ear. "This guy's a real fuckin' numpty, isn't he?" Lennox made it a point to mutter the words, offering her just a hint of an amused smile. He hadn't enjoyed the way the man spoke to Miranda. They weren't exactly in a comfortable situation; however, that didn't excuse blatant disrespect.

    Slowly, Lennox turned his focus back to Faye and the group that had gathered. "We need a couple of people to start gathering the luggage that's salvageable. If we can start a pile at the back of the plane, we can then separate into what has been looked through and what hasn't." The Scot would rarely volunteer to take a leadership position, regardless of the situation, but he didn't want to make Miranda juggle all of the control. This would also give him the chance to start ticking off the items on his mental checklist.

    "I also think a small group of us should go check out the island. We don't have to go far, but it wouldn't hurt to get an idea of what we're working with." Lennox went on to add, gaze flickering between a few of the individuals standing nearby. This suggestion seemed to spark some chatter, and the Scot stole a glance towards Miranda. "Yeah? And who put you in charge?" That grating voice from before caused the pain in Lennox's temple to pulsate, and he reluctantly looked back towards the man with the gash in his leg. "I don't see you jumping to take the position, mate. If you've got something useful to say, feel free to fuckin' share with the lot of us." The Scot could feel a heat rise to his ears as he spoke, and he stepped out of Miranda's grasp so that he could put some distance between himself and the arrogant gent.
    -- prærieulv --

  2. #22
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    Conflict was not an inherently bad thing, conflict that could not be agreeably worked through however, was entirely unproductive. Miranda could could sense the tension rise within Lennox and in turn with the man whose name she had not come to know. Lennox turning to whisper a quiet insult into Miranda's ear, though if she were honest she agreed. But outwardly she had to remain calm and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further. Instinctively Miranda move to rest her hand gently on Lennox's chest, both as a move of reassurance and to encourage him to keep his space which had already seemed to do. But for a few moments she could feel the beating of his heart, it was... pleasant to experience.

    "Enough." Miranda said softly but firmly, her attention now squarely turning toward the man with the gash in his leg. "Let's start this again. What is your name, sir?" Miranda asked, there was an odd sweetness to her tone, it was almost saccharine but only those who truly paid attention to her would pick up on it. Miranda's perceived kindness was not genuine. This was a hint of the real Miranda Darrow. Her life, at times, felt like an entirely elaborate lie.

    The man did not answer, and it left Miranda feeling ill at ease. But she had to push through it. "Alright, no matter. I know it's hard to believe. All of us are in shock. I may have been a bit rude, but so have you." Miranda shook her head and withdrew a small bottle of vodka she had nicked from the cart seemingly out of nowhere, and closing the distance between her and the. man she handed it to him. He took it without hesitation and opened it, downing the clear liquid with a sense of relief that washed across his face. "There's no need for any of this." Miranda reminded them all. "The facts are simple, we aren't where we should be. This plane has finite supplies remaining. Whether it be now or in two days from now, we'll need to get down onto that Island and see what's what."

    "Hugh." The man finally acquiesced, his eyes softening as he looked further at Miranda, perhaps he was attracted to her, perhaps she reminded him of his daughter, or another loved one. "Right, Hugh." Miranda repeated the name and seemed to be wracking her brain for more uplifting words. "Lennox has idea, and his ideas are welcome, but so are the ideas of everyone else. We won't survive if we don't work together." Making peace was something Miranda didn't enjoy, partially because she so seldom had peace in her own life.

    Lennox has defending her in a way, and for that she was grateful. "Don't speak to him like that again." Miranda shot out in Hugh's direction. "In any event, you won't be doing much. You need that wound stitched and then to stay off that leg for a while." Miranda summarily had dismissed Hugh and hopefully had gained the trust of some of the others along the way, no matter how slightly or superficially. "Now let's all take a moment to regroup and then we'll figure out who is going down there, okay?" Miranda turned in the aisle moved away toward the general direction of her seat, her body brushing against Lennox as she did so, her hand reaching out in passing and grabbing his pulling him along with her.

    When they were in the relative privacy of being further back, Miranda could sense Hugh's eyes hadn't left the two. The others were now whispering amongst themselves. It was an odd feeling. "Are you alright?" Miranda asked, now blocking out the others in favor of looking at Lennox. "Don't... let him get to you. And believe me, that's coming from someone who has had a lot of unkind words flung at her over the years." She was smiling now. Clearly a little bit relieved some of the situation had softened. "You're coming with me right? Down to whatever is out there?"
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  3. #23
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    Lennox was self-aware enough to know when he did something that was unfavorable. Instead of being useful in the situation, he had dug himself into a hole and caused more problems for Miranda to step in to fix. It wasn't entirely his fault - the man had first been rude to Faye, and then dismissive to Miranda - but that didn't necessarily excuse immature behavior. If he was going to be an example to the other fearful survivors, he would need to give a little more patience to the people that responded poorly to their current situation. That included himself, since a large part of his calmness was due to Miranda's presence. And that meant the least he could do was provide the same relief to her.

    "Sorry." He murmured, directing it to both Miranda and the man who they would come to know as Hugh. It may not mean much in the moment, but he could try to show that he wouldn't be a part of the problem in the future. If not for himself, he would do it for Miranda. The almost instantaneous fondness for the woman was still a bit bizarre to him. There were other survivors on the plane to consider, or to care about the wellbeing of, but none of them were her. It may have been selfish, but he didn't care. A little bit of selfishness felt warranted, with the excuse that this may be his last opportunity to be such.

    The Scot didn't realize he was staring, until Miranda turned away from Hugh, and he could feel the faint brush of her body past his own as she walked towards the other end of the plane. What truly surprised him was how her hand caught his, and yet, he eagerly followed her back down the aisle towards where they had originally come from. Her hand was soft in his callused one, and it fit into his own in a way that he hadn't initially expected.

    Once they were far enough away from the group, Lennox picked an empty seat to lean back against the side of, all while keeping Miranda's hand carefully grasped in his own. He wasn't ready to let her go, not unless she requested it. "Aye...I'm fine." He sighed, raising his free hand to rake his fingers through his long hair. He was silently cursing the long locks, and if he had the necessary tools to do so, he would consider cutting all of it off. The warmth of the plane was causing it to stick unpleasantly to the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry. I wanted to help, but that..." Lennox lowered his gaze to his shoes, toeing at the carpet absently. "He was being a prick though. It's not an excuse, just an observation." Even if it wasn't right to say so, it was still something that should be taken into consideration. If Hugh wanted to be included in expeditions, Lennox wasn't going to sign up to be his partner.

    He cleared his throat a little then, raising his eyes just in time to catch Miranda's smile. The sight caused him to do the same, and he breathed a chuckle that helped ease some of the tension in his shoulders. "You bet your arse I am. Hate to break it to you, lass, but you may be stuck with me until we make it off this bloody island." It was pleasing, even if only briefly, to think about making it back home. The only thing he refused to consider was what came after they made it home. Would this fondness extend beyond the crisis they found themselves in?

    The thought was short lived, however, as Lennox reached over to innocently brush his fingers across the side hem of her black cocktail dress. "Maybe we ought to grab some clothes to take down there with us? At the very least, we could rinse some of the gunk off from the crash." He suggested, figuring it might be easier for her to find clothing since they had pulled down her suitcase earlier. It also reminded him that he hadn't checked around for his own luggage, but maybe it, too, would be safely locked away in one of the upper compartments.
    Last edited by prærieulv; 09-26-2024 at 03:36 AM.
    -- prærieulv --

  4. #24
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    "I don't think you understand." Miranda said softly but plainly as she gazed at the Scot, her warm brown eyes fixated solely and entirely upon him. "It is you who is stuck with me." Miranda smiled for a brief moment as she took her free hand and raised it to his cheek cupping it softly, her thumb stroking over his skin almost absentmindedly. "I'm not... a nice person Lennox." Miranda was honest where she felt she could be. Miranda was cold, largely viewed as unfeeling or uncaring. She was trained to be that way, the only time those in her daily life saw Miranda emote in any proper way was while she played the piano, when her emotions could freely run through her.

    "Excuse me..." A timid voice called to Miranda and Lennox from a little further down the aisle. Miranda snapped back to the general reality and looking past Lennox she saw the 20 something year old boy who had been next to Faye. Her son? Yes. That sounded right. Miranda allowed her hand to drop from Lennox's face. "Hey." Miranda called softly. "What's up?" Miranda wondered what she was doing, she was never one for a casual what's up? Rather she typically would be indignant if someone had interrupted her in a sort of private moment.

    "I want to go down with you. I assume you're going." The young man said his eyes not looking at either Miranda or Lennox but nervously trained toward the floor of the aisle. "My mother said it would be a good idea if there were two groups..." Everything about him was timid, shy, like he was petrified of something or someone. Or perhaps he simply didn't quite know what to make of Miranda and Lennox. Were they a couple? Did they know each other before the flight?

    Miranda nodded her head softly. "What's your name?" She asked her head cocked to the side like she were a curious pet. "Peter." He responded for the first time actually looking up at Miranda, something of a weak smile crossed his face. "Alright. Find one more person to go with us... and you got it." Miranda felt like it was a poor decision for the young man, but he was capable of figuring that out for himself. "I'll pack a bag... or something." Miranda's attention withdrew from Lennox for a moment as she moved up the aisle to find an old backpack, she opened it and went through the contents, nothing of importance, or rather that would help them. A handheld game console wouldn't save their lives. She dumped the bag's contents and moved back toward her own suitcase, quickly pulling a few items and stuffing them in. Miranda also took a couple of small water bottles, and some bandages.

    Miranda waited for Lennox to be prepared, for the young man, Peter, to return. She stood at the threshold of the hole in the fuselage and looked down, it was only a few feet of a drop, but with their bones the shape they were, even that was likely to cause a fair deal of pain. What had they gotten themselves into?
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  5. #25
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    The Scot suddenly felt at ease, despite the spark of frustration that had overcome him only moments before. Those feelings were gone, replaced now by a pleasant warmth that flowed into his body from the touch to his cheek. He almost wanted to close his eyes, to focus on the sensations that temporarily overruled the pain riddled throughout his bones, but he didn't dare tear his gaze away from those enchanting brown orbs. Her words should've stirred up some sort of concern, and maybe if they had been somewhere else, Lennox would've taken them into consideration. However, in this moment, he wasn't sure he believed her.

    His lips parted, a response balanced on his tongue, except the voice he actually heard wasn't his own. The trance that he seemed to be in was broken, and he looked back over his shoulder towards the owner of the voice. He was a bit surprised to see a younger man, who closely resembled the woman that was tending to Hugh. Faye. That was her name. It didn't quite click that this could be her son, although Lennox did notice some of the boy's features matched that of the older woman. He was also surprised to hear that Peter wanted to join on their venture to the island, but he was relieved to know that not everyone was opposed to leaving the plane. Surely that meant there were others that would be, albeit reluctantly, willing to go down to see more of the crash site.

    "Thank you, Peter." Lennox called after the boy, offering his own half smile to the lad. Even if he didn't necessarily find it wise for the young man to venture out of the plane, he supposed there wouldn't be much of a difference between Peter going out now or later. The plane would become uninhabitable sooner than they might realize, especially if the temperature of the island stayed as warm as it seemed to be. Sustaining the living wouldn't be the only issue that they faced.

    With that unpleasant thought in mind, Lennox reluctantly parted ways from Miranda, going farther down the aisle to where he had sat on the flight. The overhead compartment was raised open, void of any contents that had once been tucked inside. It was a sight that caused him to frown, but after some hunting through the other rows, luck was back on his side. He had to dislodge the case from between two folded over seats, but the contents inside seemed to be unscathed. The first thing he did after opening the luggage was grab a few hair ties from the backmost compartment. He also grabbed a fresh pair of clothes, eager to get out of the raggedy ones he currently wore.

    It didn't take him long to join Miranda at the fuselage. "Mind if I drop these in that bag? I can carry it for us." He reached out a hand to take the old backpack, figuring she had brought along more than just a change of clothes. Just as he tucked his own articles of clothing into the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, he caught sight of Peter and another man approaching. The stranger looked to be in his late thirties, possibly early forties, although Lennox was beginning to realize he didn't have much of a knack for guessing people's age. Regardless, the man was of stocky build, muscled in a way that Lennox was almost envious of.

    "Jeffrey." The man spoke up once he and Peter were close enough, nodding a greeting to both Miranda and the Scotsman. "I'm more than ready to get off this metal bird, so if we're all set to go, I'll gladly be the first to jump ship." He didn't hesitate to suggest being the first one off the plane, and Lennox didn't see a point in arguing with him. The Scot stepped off to the side, watching the way that Jeffrey squatted before hopping down to the sand below. The drop was enough to jar him a bit, but it didn't take long for him to move and allow space for the rest to join him. "The metal along the edge is hot, be careful." He called up to the group, motioning to the outside of the hole in the wall.

    "I'll go next." Lennox stepped up to the edge of the hole, deciding to follow a similar form to the man before him. His shoes hit the sand with a soft thud, and the impact sent a heated pain straight up from his ankle to his consistently throbbing temples. The edges of his vision darkened, and for a brief moment, he thought that few foot drop would be the thing that took him out. However, after a few harsh blinks and a shuddering breath, he was able to straighten up and look back towards the plane. He lifted his arms into the air, motioning for Miranda to come down next. "I'll catch ya...or I'll at least break your fall a little."
    -- prærieulv --

  6. #26
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    Miranda had no qualms in handing the bag to Lennox who stored his own things inside and slung it over his shoulder. Jeffrey was insistent on being the first to go out, and Miranda didn’t see the need to fight that either. He was yet another example of a tough guy, one who did as he pleased and even if Miranda had interjected, she would have likely been dismissed. God forbid the woman should have something to say. Then again, Miranda was assuming a lot on the part of this man.

    Lennox was the next to go and Miranda watched him as he fell to terra firma. There was a look of pain that spread across his face. That is what she had worried about. A fall from this height, or a jump, normally wouldn’t be much of an issue, but with their bodies broken, somewhat mangled it would be a lot harder on them. Lennox was calling up to her and beckoning her to be the next one to the ground.

    Miranda couldn’t say why but the thought bothered her. It wasn’t the distance to the ground. It wasn’t the notion that she would be in absolute pain if she hit something the wrong way, or even that her ribs hurt when she breathed, or shoulder ached whenever she moved in a certain way that her body deemed unacceptable. No, it was the smell that bothered her. It smelled like a beach, the air carried moisture via the winds. It was the distant sound of seagulls or other birds, constantly running their mouthes as though desperate for food. It was the sight of the beach beneath her, the look of the waves crashing along the shoreline and traveling ever further up the beach front with and every break.

    The footprints of sand crabs and or other creatures that were scattered across the otherwise pristine beach. In the distance it looked like there were palm trees and if you looked far enough into the distance you could see the heat radiating in the air like little hazy waves. The sun was beating down and the heat was beginning to get to her. Miranda gazed down and before jumping she raised her legs up one at a time and removed the high heels which had confined her. “Better not have these…” she whispered to herself.

    Miranda took a step forward, and then another, and the next thing she knew she could feel one leg in the air and nothing below it. Drawing it back onto the plane Miranda took a breath and then jumped down.

    “Better let me get this big guy.” Jeffrey said as he more or less pushed Lennox out of the way, his arms spread wide as Miranda fell until finally she landed in his arms, she was held like a bride about to cross the threshold in the arms of her husband for the first time. Miranda felt the impact and breathed out a hiss of pain, her eyes opening as she saw an unexpected man. “Thanks…” Miranda said softly, but sincerely as she quickly moved to free herself from the stranger’s grasp. It was an odd feeling, she didn’t want it to be him. She didn’t want someone who wasn’t Lennox to touch her.

    “You got it little lady.” Jeffrey said with a bit of a smile as he moved a little further in land toward the jungle, stopping and raising a hand to his forehead to block out the sun, now surveying the land. He didn’t seem particularly interested or really concerned with the others, at least not for now. He seemed generally like he was curious about the oddity that surrounded them.

    “Come on Peter.” Miranda called up as the rather timid young man approached the edge and finally cast himself off of it, landing in the soft yet hard sand beneath him, a little shaken perhaps but otherwise in mostly fine fettle. Miranda smiled at him and pat him on the shoulder. “Good on you.” She said encouragingly. Slipping away from him she stood by Lennox now. “For the record, I think you could have caught me too.” Miranda smirked, it was these little moments of humor that helped her survive.

    “We should split up. Or is that only what people who are about to die in a horror movie say?” Miranda asked, mostly in the direction of Lennox, but Jeffrey and Peter had refocused themselves and moved back toward the group.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  7. #27
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    Lennox didn't consider himself to be an overtly jealous man; however, the sharp shove against his shoulder caused him to stagger a few steps out of the way of Miranda's jump, and a spark of bitter envy lit in the put of his stomach. While he managed to hold his tongue this time, thanks to the previous altercation on the plane, his hazel eyes still shot daggers at the side of Jeffrey's head. He knew it was probably for the best--the pounding in his head likely would've prevented him from catching her successfully--but the sight of another man's hands on the woman didn't sit well with him.

    Luckily the moment was brief, and Lennox tore his gaze away to finally take in their surroundings. The sand extended for miles beyond the shoreline, reaching the thick underbrush of shrubs that slowly transitioned into the unusual tropical forest. The sun illuminated the tree line, casting a glow on the foliage that faded into shadows further in. Lennox could feel the hairs on the back of his neck start the prickle, an unsettling feeling replacing the pang of jealousy he had felt only moments before. The underbrush almost appeared to be rustling, like something could be lurking in that darkness.

    Miranda's voice pulled the Scot out of his momentary trance, and he offered a tight smile in response to her comment. Words could never describe the ease he felt when in this woman's presence. "I'll just have to prove my strength next time." Lennox managed a chuckle, and carefully draped an arm across her shoulders. It was a possessive gesture. An indication that the little lady was not just a stranger to him like the other plane survivors, even if the unfortunate reality was that he only possessed a few puzzle pieces of her life.

    "Splitting up wouldn't be a bad idea," Jeffrey chimed in before Lennox had the chance, motioning a thumb over his shoulder towards the forested area. "The miss and I could go venture closer to the woods, see if we can find any fruits or drinking water." It seems that draping an arm over the woman's shoulders did not convey the look Lennox was aiming for. That, or Jeffrey didn't care that the Scot was clearly quite fond of Miranda. The suggestion seemed innocent, albeit a clear indication that the man preferred to have the woman's company over the younger man.

    "I'm not sure we should jump into the thick of things so quickly," Lennox muttered, his loose grip on Miranda tightening ever so slightly. It was ultimately up to her, but that didn't mean he would let her leave his sight without putting up at least a little fight. He didn't prefer the thought of letting Peter venture into the unknown either, but if he could only keep one of them close, he did have an obvious preference.
    Last edited by prærieulv; 10-19-2024 at 01:01 AM.
    -- prærieulv --

  8. #28
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    Standing on the shore was surreal, it almost felt as though this were an elaborate dream. This couldn't be happening to her, it couldn't be happening to them. Where the hell were they? Miranda's near trance like state broken when she felt an arm move to drape around her, almost pulling her closer. It was Lennox. A brief sigh of relief escaped her as she processed. His touch against her was warm. She enjoyed the feeling of his skin upon hers. When she paid attention to the words she felt like she understood. A pang of jealousy seemed to be sweeping over Lennox and if Miranda were to be honest with herself she wouldn't understand it. Miranda never felt herself a prize, never a woman worth being jealous over.

    "Actually." Peter seemed to find his voice. "I'd like to take a look out there, so I'll go with you." He was still timid, nervous. Was he confronting his own fears? Forcing himself to be brave? Maybe. Either way, he had committed to entering the unknown. Jeffrey turned to the young man and nodded. "Alright buddy, let's go." He replied to the younger man's offer and pat him on the back, the smile on his face had faded, his preference had not been met. The pair of them turning toward the tree line and slowly moving away. Small talk passing between their lips, muffled sounds of laughter echoing back toward Miranda and Lennox as they moved ever further away from the plane.

    "Someone's got a jealous streak." Miranda said softly once the pair of men were far enough away, her attention turned entirely to Lennox, a soft smile painted on her face. Miranda positioned herself to face him, her hands instinctively moving to rest on his lower back, her body aching as she made delicate movements. An unpleasant yet constant reminder of their position. "You realize that it's all trauma right?" Miranda would not acknowledge that any attraction they may have had for each other could be anything real. Miranda was a meal ticket, not someone to love. Still she drew her face closer to his, moving to lean her forehead now against his but only for a moment as she moved her face to side, coming closer to his ear where he would undoubtedly feel the warmth of her breath against his skin.

    "Let's go for a swim. Wash this all off." She whispered. Her fingers had crept upward, moving beneath the fabric of his shirt to rest against the flesh of his back, soaking in his warmth, the softness of his body. Miranda clearly indulging herself above all. A sensible person would suggest that Miranda should not be doing what she was. They didn't know each other, not really. They had a shared experience that almost ended their lives, it seemed so natural that they were drawn to each other. But this seemed and felt like a moment out of time, something so absurd that the rest of their lives was a fact so distant that it didn't matter.

    Her hands dropped from him, but she left him with a tender kiss upon the cheek as she began to back up toward the water. Never breaking eye contact with him as she did so. The bright blaze above them was unnatural, the warmth of the sand, the sand itself was unnatural. None of this should be here. When the warm water hit her feet Miranda let out a small yip of surprise. The Atlantic should be freezing, but this wasn't, it was comfortable. "We could just tell Jeff that you're my boyfriend." Miranda called a little louder, just loud enough to be heard across the gap between them. "But then you'd have to act like it." Was she joking? Did it matter?

    A few steps further back, a sigh of relief. Slowly, painfully, Miranda moved to undress herself. Her shoulder aching, the wound still remaining closed for the time being, if she was careful enough. Miranda cast the garments aside, a gentle toss toward the dry sand, leaving herself in her bra and underwear. Steps further back into the water as the level rose around her. What was she doing? It didn't matter. No. Miranda was determined to wash away the sweat, soot, ash, blood, all of it from her. Wash away the day.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  9. #29
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    Lennox could feel some of the tension in his shoulders begin to loosen as Peter spoke up to the small group. He would have to give the younger man some credit. While Peter didn't appear to be fully confident in his decision to explore an area that was clearly abnormal, he was at least showing more courage than Lennox would've mustered at that age. Even now, Lennox was hesitant to get within a few feet of the foliage. Beyond the island's unusual climate, there was something else unsettling to him that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

    He watched the two men as they departed toward the unknown, unaware of his intense glare fixed on the larger man's back until Miranda stepped into his line of sight. His gaze softened, and at the mention of jealousy, a soft chuckle rumbled up from his chest. Had he been so obvious? "Caught red handed." He admitted freely, slowly relaxing against the hands that were perched on his lower back. He slowly drew his own arm back from her shoulders, letting his hand caress down the length of her arm. It felt intimate to stand so close to her, staring down into those warm brown eyes. But, of course, reality is harshest to those that try to avoid it. "Perhaps...but I'd like to enjoy it while I can." Lennox couldn't say he hadn't thought the same thing before, but the dreadful feelings that came along with it were different when the words were spoken by the woman. At least now he could be on the same page as her.

    The Scot was prepared to pull away then, getting the impression that Miranda was gently reminding him that she was no more than a stranger bonded by trauma, but his movements halted the moment she began to lean in. His eyes slowly sank closed, feeling her forehead press to his own. It was brief, but in the same moment his hands found their own perch on Miranda's sides. He wanted to hold her closer, to drown in the warmth that she surrounded him with. He had once again forgotten about their surroundings, and the dire situation that they found themselves in. They may be bonded by the near-death experience, but he could almost be convinced that this was something more.

    Then her breath fanned out against his ear, and the pleasant warmth that had settled into his body sparked into something just a bit more intense. His fingers curled into the fabric of her cocktail dress, almost in an attempt to hold her in place just a little longer, but she was drawing back before he could get a firm enough grasp. He blinked his eyes back open, and a smirk found his lips as she began to back away from him. He could breathe properly again. "Were you teasing me, little hen?" He finally found words, his hazels staying glued to her as she neared the clear, blue water. "I'm not sure I'd have to act after you pulled a stunt like that." The words were spoken softly, maybe loud enough for her to hear them, but perhaps not. He wasn't opposed to such a suggestion, especially if it meant Jeff might be more inclined to keep his hands to himself. What would be the harm? They might not make it off this island anyway.

    Gradually, Lennox began to move toward the water, though he found it difficult to divert his gaze from the woman standing before him. It wasn't until her dress was fully discarded that he forced himself to look away, realizing he was treading a potentially embarrassing line. He was a man, after all. He distracted himself by collecting her cocktail dress from where it had landed in the dry sand, placing it in a pile with the backpack and his shoes. Admittedly, he needed a few moments to regain his composure anyway, so he took his time in removing his socks and his blood coated t-shirt. His torso was a valley of freckles and moles, as well as the occasional bruise left behind from their harsh landing. Then, finally, he freed the button of his jeans and let them drop down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs. When was the last time a pretty woman saw him in such a state? He almost couldn't remember.

    "So... What exactly would acting like your boyfriend entail? I thought I was already doing the clingy thing pretty well." Lennox asked as stepped into the shockingly warm water, only taking a moment to register this additional abnormality of the island. He managed to resist the urge to walk straight to Miranda, and instead veered to one side so that he could continue father into the ocean. It was pleasing to feel the small waves brush up the length of his legs as he ventured deeper, but it was nothing compared to the sensations he had felt when Miranda's hands were on his skin. "I'm not sure we could convince anyone that a bonnie lass, like yourself, would be even a little interested in a numpty like me." He laughed softly now, finally making it far enough into the water that he could lift his feet off the sand and lower his torso into the warmth. He then extended a hand towards Miranda, giving in to the desire to be close to her, but also giving her the option to decline the invitation.
    -- prærieulv --

  10. #30
    The Grey Lady
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    Miranda should have declined the hand that was extended to her. She should have said she had a fiance. But Miranda wasn't in the truth telling mood. She wasn't a woman in love. Miranda had in fact, never been in love with Sebastian. Instead, she simply went through the motions of what was expected of her. If it was one thing that meant her family wouldn't fight her on, she would make the choice. But Miranda in this moment took his hand and pulled herself through the warm waters until she was flush against him. "You really think they wouldn't believe us?" Miranda's head cocked to the side as she sank slowly deeper within the water, the ends of her brunette hair floating as it made contact with the water.

    "More importantly, you don't think a woman like me could be interested in a man like you." Miranda frowned softly for a moment, her hands moved to rest on his chest. The water was a shocking blue, almost entirely clear to the white sands beneath their feet. She could make out the details of his body, and he could of hers. Assorted spots along her torso and legs were deep shades of blue mingling with brilliant purples. It could almost have been pretty if it weren't so tragic and moreover a reminder of their survival.

    "I suppose you aren't my type, the Darrows would say." Miranda sighed at the thought. "My type is... bad for me." Miranda always made bad choices when it came to men. Every. Single. Time. Every. Last. One. "But maybe it's good to try something new." Beneath the surface of the water her hands traced downward against his skin. Her fingertips eventually trailing toward his waistband, hooking into it. "My boyfriend would have to tell me that he loves me. Frequently." Miranda allowed herself to trail off. "It entails wearing suits to attend concerts that you don't want to go to. Charity dinners and balls." Miranda's words were slow, soft, and despite the mundanity of their nature, she made it all sound incredibly seductive.

    "It involves spending time with my family, and laughing at jokes that aren't funny." Miranda leaned in closer, once again her forehead pressed to his. "It means making love to me, toe curlingly good love. Me screaming your name love." Miranda was getting quieter as she watched him, her eyes staring at him as though boring into his soul. "As for teasing you..." Miranda trailed off. "I don't start something I don't intend to go through with." There was a smirk now spread across her face. For a few moments it was easy to forget the world around them and just focus on him. To focus on them and forget the fact that her body was rebelling in pain though the warmth of the water, unnatural or not was easing some of the burden.

    The odds seemed stacked against them. Someone should be looking for them but did it matter? They seemed to exist out of time and space, in a world that was foreign, completely alien, not the north Atlantic at all. "It's a dreadful fate, to be stuck with me like that." Miranda shook her head rather playfully. If they were going to die, a fate which seemed more than likely almost, she might as well enjoy herself while she could. There was no way of knowing what was out there in that jungle. "But this is only half of the equation." Miranda pointed out, her fingertips getting dangerously close to drawing his underwear down lower. "That would make me your girlfriend, and what exactly does that entail?" Miranda wondered if she was pushing Lennox too far, and if he resisted, or even rejected her, she would understand.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

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