anyone else.

pitch: i may have...

pitch: gotten my leg caught in a crab trap

remy: i don't know how to help you

remy: or if i can help you

remy: but i want to help you

z. olguin, 

e. pavia ,

she stands by the unfolded table at the back of the tent, straw hat tipped over her forehead as she finds the metal container marked with a laminated sticker reading cream. perhaps peace is too grand a word for it, but there is a certain relaxation to being the first in the briefing tent, stirring her coffee and unpacking her red tin. eléna turns to the entrance of the tent at the first voice, sucking on the spoon in her mouth. she smiles gently around it before removing it to issue proper greeting. 

“mm – - hola, jude.” turning, she leans her lower back against the table – a surprisingly sturdy thing, and if one chose to look at it too closely, a microcosm for the quality and height of cambra’s budget. “not everyones arrived yet.” tapping her spoon against her cheek idly, she looks back at him. “do you want coffee? i just made a carafe, and there’s sweets in the tin. a bit early for them perhaps, but i’m afraid if we don’t eat them soon they’ll go stale.”

shit, shit, shit! how he had slept through three blaring alarms was beyond him; late for some hoity-toity meeting on his first day of being hired by someone other than his uncle? typical. but getting fired on the same day he’s expected to start work is a new low —- even for him. so he’s sprinting all the way from his house to where they said the dig site would be. the familiar figure of the volcano greets him as he nears, and he eventually skids to a stop in front of one of the bigger tents. the sight of the whole place is strangely unsettling once he takes it in but he tries to play it cool. they’re paying him good money!

“i’m definitely not late, right? it’s zack… zachary olguin — your friendly local guide?”

she stood calmly near the entrance of the tent, smoking her cigarette and allowing her eyes to feast upon the mesmerizing view. makara wasn’t late. she came right on time, she just didn’t want to go inside with a cigarette glued to her pink lips. so she waited a little, allowing the nicotine to fill up every pore of her body. but one cigarette just wasn’t enough. her fingers, lips and lungs craved more. so without much thinking, she lit another one and went inside. was smoking allowed inside? she didn’t really bother to check. “ hi,” makara greeted as if on command, letting thin white clouds form around her face as she exhaled through her nose. she took off her black aviator shades, but didn’t smile, as this was a professional meeting.  “ i hope we won’t have to wait for too long. time is money. every wasted second has a price.”

" if you’re late, i’m later, ” remy says as they walk in after the man who introduces himself as the guide, and they flash him a slight smile before glancing around. jude. emma. makara. nice. they like knowing everyone, and the more time they spend as a part of cambra, the more comfortable they feel. they’re bouncing with excitement. it’s the first official meeting of the dig and they’re as ready as they’ll ever be. in their hands, they carried in a carrier with four coffees  ( it was all they could hold. anyone who arrives too late for coffee is suffering from their own misdeed ) and their shoulders fall slightly when they realize eléna has already made coffee. leave it to remy to try and show a good gesture ( them ? bringing coffee ? a wild and improbable scenario ) to have it be fruitless. they glance over to makara. “ sorry for being late. coffee line, you know. ” they grab one of the few coffees they brought and settle into a seat, falling silent.

pitch’s face felt hot, something that rarely happened, and she recoiled for a moment. “uh, i– i didn’t even recognize you. sorry. i’m shit with faces.” she uses nonsense to hide her embarrassment and flips her hair over one shoulder. “the others don’t know.” she said in a low voice. “i’d appreciate if you didn’t tell them.” she perused the shelves. “unless your fearless leader decides to.”

“ nope, don’t blame you for that, ” their voice is high, shrill, but they can’t help it. it’s a instinctual reaction and they can’t quite calm themself down enough to get a hold of it. remy’s gaze looks everywhere but towards pitch.

“ oh no, i wouldn’t --- that’s not my place to say anything. i promise, scout’s honor and all. ” they raise and wave three fingers. “ not that i was a scout, but you get the idea. my lips are sealed. me ? i know nothing. you ? i’ve never seen you before. not in this store and definitely not in a tent with --- ”

“ nope, sorry, yep. know nothing, don’t know you. my eyes are definitely not scarred. ” 

she watches remy’s eyes rather than their hand as it reaches for the figurine. there were so few things that you could not alter, fake, or conjure in this world – and wonder was one of them. it seemed each year there were fewer things that stirred eléna’s heart as they once had, but that, the image of another awed by something greater than themselves had yet to be drowned from the list. she smiles, closed-lipped and truthful – a thing that maintains and stretches as she listens to the intern babble. it makes her chuckle.

had she ever been so green, so endearing? no. surely no one had ever looked at her and been so honey-drowned in the sensation of earnestness.

“remy,” she says their name by way of comfort, reaching out to touch them briefly on the arm. “if there is something or someone that is going to control our project’s luck, i can guarantee it’s occupied with far greater things than our conversations. you’re safe, bomboncita.” eléna exhales lightly as she removes her hand from the water, shaking it out gently as she watches how the water discolours the concrete she sits on. as it dries, she looks back up at remy. “this is your first time on-site, yes? i wouldn’t worry. we do quite well. though i do find it can be best not to make self-imposed expectations so early.” if one was watching carefully, they could see a slight downwards twitch to her lips. if one knew more than they should about eléna pavia, they might have understood why.

whatever the sort of magic the fountain has cast over remy has been cast over them by the whole island. perhaps maybe it’s cambra, too, allowing them to work on the dig, but ever since they were young ( though, rather, maybe it is more apt to say younger ; youth seeps from their every pore, bleeding from their smile and the brightness of their eyes ), they loved the mysteries that the past seem to hold, hidden in ancient text and artifact, below the ground, hidden to the blind eye.

there is a brief moment where remy falters, their expression darkening slightly --- perhaps it had been naive of them to think anything they would have to say would have an impact on anything. their lips only fall downturned slightly before bouncing back up. they have more things to dwell on than what they can or can’t impact. they nod their head to eléna’s question, bouncing up onto the balls of their feet as they grow excited at just the thought of what they’re doing.

“ i don’t want to get my hopes dashed, but i don’t want to not have any passion for this either. ” they wrap their arms around themself before glancing around, at the trees, at the far side of the island in the distance. “ i’m finding it a little hard to be patient, ” they admit, “ though i’m sure that’s not hard to tell. ”

“Are they now? This is the first that I’m hearing about this. Funny, considering—” Avi pointed to his own prominent nose. Somebody should have told the brats he went to school with way back when. 

“Well, thanks.” One last glance at the doodle and its many redrawn lines, and he shoves the book into his backpack. “Sorry. I, uh, don’t normally just shove things in strangers’ directions. It’s my first time here and there’s so much to look at— Figures it’s the little things that keep my attention. Are you traveling, too?” 

they glance at him, really glance at him, for the first time and they shrug their shoulders slightly. “ your nose has character. it’s distinct and --- it’s not a bad thing. but i’ll stand by what i said. noses are overrated. actually, i’ll take it back. people’s opinions of noses are overrated. and often mean. “ their face wrinkles with distaste, and their expression is childlike.

“ don’t apologize, ” remy says with a smile. “ it was a nice, random surprise. it might even be the highlight of my day. ” they’re sickeningly genuine. “ traveling ? i --- yeah, ” their brows have drawn together but they nod, “ you could call it that. i’m here for work, but i think i’ve spent more time wandering around than actually working. ”

they let out a laugh at their own expense before asking, “ are you an artist ? ”