Okay, so I'm in the meat-packing district (which might be more a "meat-packing block? I don't know) and I managed to sweet talk a butcher down in exchange for some unrelated work (maybe related?).
But anyway, long story short: help me carry meat back to the ship.
I feel like getting a hold of an ability like that is more trouble than it's worth. Probably have to have all your blood removed and replaced or something crazy like that.
I'm alright as I am, I think. Even if this hypothetical teleportation scenario could be tempting.
Ha ha, no. Hate to disappoint but I'm human (and American). Dad's French-American and Mom's mom was half-Japanese; formerly settled in the midwest but I typically hang my hat in Canada these days.
[he'd debated, in the time between, whether he could cancel this whole thing or come up with a believable bullshit story instead. He didn't doubt he could, but was it worth the effort? The risk if someone else showed up? It'd be fun for a while, maybe - but then again, knowing his luck it'd bite him right in the ass]
Sayid pushes open the door with his shoulder. The reason for this is that he has two decent sized bottles of what is presumably alcohol cradled in his other arm. One of them is taller, a pale blueish green. The other is stouter, and is a dark brown.
[Sayid will immediately notice the lack of personal touch to Sawyer's room; unlike his space on the island, or even the small hut he had while working for Dharma, there's nothing really indicating that he's been there as long as he has . . . save for the pile of books next to his bed, maybe.
And the ring sitting out in plain sight.
Sawyer sits up straight, shrugging a shoulder and jerking his head back to the door] If you wanna be all classy 'bout it, there's glasses in the kitchen. But I don't give a crap.
[he gestures to the bed, inviting Sayid to sit if he wants. It's going to be a long night]
[Oh, he certainly notices the ring. If only because it's the sole personal item at all. That's interesting. But they probably have larger things to deal with and potentially antagonizing Sawyer by asking about it seems less than strategical.
Sayid sets the drinks down, thinks about whether he's really interested in the level of familiarity that drinking straight out of the bottle with Sawyer suggests, and then nods before turning around and heading for the door again.]
One moment.
[Definitely getting a couple of glasses. Sorry not sorry.
When he comes back, he does take Sawyer up on that offer to sit on the bed, handing over one of the glasses.]
[he isn't surprised in the least, but he doesn't care much, either. It's alcohol, it'll get into his system and help him through this conversation no matter how he drinks it, and that's what's important.
When Sayid finally settles down, he runs a hand through his hair, making a disgruntled noise. Nope, not even the prospect of getting drunk makes him want to do this any more]
All right, let's review first. Last thing you remember is bein' locked up, right? And Kyriakos?
[....Here Sawyer, you can just have the bottle. Sayid will keep the second one. It's lighter anyway.
Just because he doesn't think he was right anymore about Ben doesn't mean he's going to just agree with Sawyer. Which means Sayid just shrugs in response.]
[If he were any less self-controlled, he might have breathed in sharply at that. Or something betraying his discomfort with the idea. As it is, his fingers just curl a little more tightly around his glass.]
...No. But I remember deciding that doing it was the purpose for which I'd been brought back to the island.
text.
text.
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But anyway, long story short: help me carry meat back to the ship.
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Just how much meat are we talking here?
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Just enough for one compact woman and one shipmate to carry, obviously. Don't worry, I'm going to share. I'm not just using you for your muscles. ;)
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But hey, if that's what gets you to move your ass, I guess I'll keep it in mind.
[ Lookie there, she managed to figure out how to MapQuest herself. ]
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I'll upgrade my lumbering walk to a somewhat quick swagger, then. Give me fifteen.
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Be still, my beating heart. Thanks for the help, pal. ;)
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Anytime.
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Move faster! It's really awkward standing outside a butchery with a stack of meat, you know!
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I'm moving as fast as I can, I can't teleport.
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Hey, I don't know if you've developed any cool and useful powers over the past 72 or so hours. Too bad, would be handy...
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If only. Got any places that offer that sort of thing? Us normal humans seem to be in the minority.
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I feel like getting a hold of an ability like that is more trouble than it's worth. Probably have to have all your blood removed and replaced or something crazy like that.
Anyway, who told you I was normal? ;)
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What, are you a mutant or something?
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Ha ha, no. Hate to disappoint but I'm human (and American). Dad's French-American and Mom's mom was half-Japanese; formerly settled in the midwest but I typically hang my hat in Canada these days.
No special powers or anything. :(
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Well damn, and here I was getting my hopes up to meet another mutant.
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Sorry, just normal human Jill. Maybe you'll meet a non-human Jill to replace me with if you keep your hopes up.
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I was joking, ma'am. Other place I was in, plain old humans were few and far between.
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I know it's not a joke because you sure as heck did just ma'am me.
Same here. Used to be human, though, I guess is the more correct term.
text - a day or two into Snow Planet
[That talk Sawyer promised him is a long time coming, although that's not Sawyer's fault.]
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Didn't I put an expiration on that?
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You can review our original conversation, if you like.
[There was definitely no expiration date originally mentioned!]
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Maybe I will.
Where, then? Bar? One of our ships? The cold, deep depths of space?
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Is this evening good for you?
[He has to go buy the alcohol now.]
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Though this is starting to sound dangerously close to a date. Make sure you bring me something nice, Ahab.
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I'll be there around 7.
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text -> action
Upon docking with the Heron, he makes his way to Sawyer's room, knocking on the hatch.]
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Come on in. [oh, he's going to regret this]
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Sayid pushes open the door with his shoulder. The reason for this is that he has two decent sized bottles of what is presumably alcohol cradled in his other arm. One of them is taller, a pale blueish green. The other is stouter, and is a dark brown.
True to his word!]
I didn't bring glasses.
[Just...because. Hello.]
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And the ring sitting out in plain sight.
Sawyer sits up straight, shrugging a shoulder and jerking his head back to the door] If you wanna be all classy 'bout it, there's glasses in the kitchen. But I don't give a crap.
[he gestures to the bed, inviting Sayid to sit if he wants. It's going to be a long night]
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Sayid sets the drinks down, thinks about whether he's really interested in the level of familiarity that drinking straight out of the bottle with Sawyer suggests, and then nods before turning around and heading for the door again.]
One moment.
[Definitely getting a couple of glasses. Sorry not sorry.
When he comes back, he does take Sawyer up on that offer to sit on the bed, handing over one of the glasses.]
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When Sayid finally settles down, he runs a hand through his hair, making a disgruntled noise. Nope, not even the prospect of getting drunk makes him want to do this any more]
All right, let's review first. Last thing you remember is bein' locked up, right? And Kyriakos?
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[...And refusing to do it because he'd decided he needed to kill Ben. Something he absolutely has mixed feelings about now.
He also uncorks the stouter bottle, pouring a very little for himself and...more for Sawyer.]
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Right, that. [a scowl] You should've freakin' listened to me.
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Just because he doesn't think he was right anymore about Ben doesn't mean he's going to just agree with Sawyer. Which means Sayid just shrugs in response.]
Perhaps.
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Or me tryin' to convince you leave and even givin' you a way out and you bein' a hardass about listening again.
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[Look at this asshole.]
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Ain't I the one who's supposed to be the asshole?
[he takes a long, long sip from the bottle]
D'you remember the kid?
[no name, not yet. He's going to find out exactly how much Sayid knows before he even starts the rest of the story]
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But the second Sawyer mentions the "kid", even without naming him, Sayid's attention is drawn down to the glass in his hands. Ben.
The look on his face is somber and slightly conflicted.]
I remember him.
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Remember shooting him?
[he was never one to sugarcoat things, so there's no point in starting now]
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...No. But I remember deciding that doing it was the purpose for which I'd been brought back to the island.