stay cool

Vala caught the ends of a Bon Jovi singalong, the lyrics making them frown internally. Sure, they understood the symbolism, roses for beauty and love versus nails for the torment the singer would take in place of their paramour. It just didn't make sense to them, though. Lying on a bed of nails can be without pain or bloodshed if one knows what they are doing but to lie in a bed of roses is to crush their petals and succumb to their thorns.

The same voice called out a name, getting louder as it came closer. "Sorry," they turned to face the man, "I'm not Eve- but I could help you look for her if you'd like?"

He felt the need to force himself to smile. But the smile came out quite naturally, given that the person in front of him reminded him of Eve. That wasn't fair to them, however, and he knew that. He couldn't just... look at this stranger and think of someone else. That wasn't fair. So he tried to be normal about it. Reining in that smile, he said politely, "No, it's fine. We should probably... focus on other things. There's a lot to do around here. I want to contribute."

Finn had been busy packing any essentials he'd think to need in the canvas duffle bag that had once been his carry-on. It looked worn — even before the crash — but it was still sturdy enough to serve its function, and in the situation they found themselves in today, he felt maybe there was something to fate, or the multiplicity of the Sisters. Continuing the last of his packing — not in the least the leather-bound travel journal he never went anywhere without — Finn cast a glance up at the young man addressing him from his crouched position.

"Memory is a fickle thing, kid," he shrugged, seconds away from returning his attention back to his bag when he paused, eyes moving over Scott's face. While he'd only known Scott for a handful of weeks — how long had it even been already? — Finn could already recognise a certain amount of tells, and the upset on the younger man's face was clear as day.

He sighed and sat back onto his heels, regarding him for a second longer. "Alright," he said finally, scratching his temple. "There's a way, just gonna take a sec." With that, Finn held his hand out expectantly.

Scott was resigned to the idea of needing to give up his photo of Eve. Finn's words made him pause, however, dark eyes widening slightly. "What way?" He stared at the outstretched hand. "Do I grab that or do I... give you the picture?"

Nichole shook her head upon hearing the man's words. Her head was down, face mostly hidden. She had found that it was the easiest way to keep walking. She'd done her fair share of hiking over the years, in Michigan, in the San Francisco Bay Area, in the various cities and countries she's visited, and she was planning to do so during her few days in Australia before her next flight. Face down was generally a good way for her to gain momentum when she was starting to get exhausted, and a way to breathe easier. But she definitely could realize that this time, here, it felt like she was losing that momentum than she ever had before, despite the beach being fairly flat and her having hiked way more steep areas.

Nevertheless, all the other would have seen was her shaking her head, but not the amused look that came across her face, except for when she did decide to look up and over to him, starting, "There is absolutely no way that there is a hou--" She cut herself off, noticing in the distance the exact thing the man must have realized, "It, actually, it does like look that. What would that be doing out here?"

He was quite ready to accept that desperation was perhaps making him see things that weren't there. That was until she affirmed that there was, in fact, a house, or something that looked like it. A building, made by people, occupied by people at one point in time.

Well, there was also the distinct possibility that they'd both ingested some hallucinogen on the island or whatever. Maybe it was in the air, maybe it was in the water. He wouldn't be surprised at this point. But it was also very much possible that they were seeing the building because it existed. "Beats me," he admitted with a shrug. "But I know where my feet are taking me." He took a few steps in its direction. "If something or someone kills me the moment I go inside, then at least you'll know it's dangerous. My heroic sacrifice," he added cheerfully.

scott didn't look his best, a corollary of their current situation. but his photograph of eve remained spotless. he'd been fastidiously polishing it with whatever he could get his hands on for the task. the magazine he brought contained a picture of eve too, but it was small, and the flimsy, glossy pages were more likely to get damaged than the comparatively sturdier photograph.

"Um..." He admitted, "I was hoping you'd know, frankly." His smile faltered in that moment, but he willed himself to lighten up. "Okay, okay, no use being pessimistic! Maybe we should... gather some wood and grinding the sticks against each other? Or like... a big rock or something? I think that could create a fire. Friction or whatever."