Four Of A Kind

[The sound of a foreigner pierced Opera's silence. It was more of a shock, really, that the volume of someone presumably talking to themself would be loud enough for him to hear.]

[The woman spotted him, amusement painted her face almost immediately. Her manicured hand covered what was surely a laugh.]

My apologies, sir! You must think my complaining is real rich comin' from a chick like me. You gotta be sweating yer ass off in a 'fit like that. How do ya do it, Mista....?

[She trails off, a puzzled look on her visage before she smacked herself in the face.]

Ah damn! I didn't even introduce myself! I'm Marlene Aspen! You can jus' call me Marley though. -🃏 ( @the-fools-deck)

[ While unable to place the direct origin of the accent, the woman is easily placed as an American. Soupy speech that clouded together on certain words, the way that she held herself, and the clothes she wore tied the bow together. What a girl like her was doing on this island was beyond Opera. She seemed so well put together, so in touch with herself. Manicured nails and her hidden giggles signified something deeper than just another girl on the island. She was a well trained one. One that society had formed long before it should have which ways to laugh and which ways to think. Perhaps that was true of all women, though. ]

[ Opera's shoulders tense at her laugh. So calculated. So cold. Something that she thought about doing before she did it, and split through his ears like the ring of a bomb hitting the surface of the Earth. He seemed to take it as a mockery instead of a nervous laugh at herself. Like there was something about him to be laughed at when she had been the one to use such foul language. ]

"You have a right to complain, you know. Doesn't matter who you are. You're stranded, that ought to be hard on anyone." [ Opera's head tilts with confusion, although he can understand the girl perfectly. Someone from money, someone who was pretty. She had nothing to complain about, but that didn't matter in situations of life or death. Did it matter at all? Despite all of her privilege shouldn't she have a right to complain? Wouldn't it be better to complain than to live a life of shame for feeling things out of her control? ]

"It is awfully hot, you should stay in the shade. You don't want your skin to burn."

[ He looks down at her, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and there is almost a comedic twinkle in his eyes. Like he had just told one of the best jokes that anyone could crack, one that only made sense to him, because he seemed to be the only one laughing at it. The thick layers of clothing don't seem to bother him, and don't seem to become abandoned any time soon. ]

Y'know you're a funny fella mista masky or whatever your name is. That's the first step in making friends, you gotta tell eachother your names! You can't turn down a lady when she asks that sort of thing, that's just plain rude!

[She chuckled once more. She was all smiles and giggles, not a care in the whole world.]

You'll be seein' a lot of me, I guarantee it. Ah, maybe if I find some sunscreen you can help me keep from burnin' up?

[She teased. It was the sort of thing that came completely natural to her and completely unnatural for Opera.]

[ The meaning of her words doesn't seem to be lost on Opera, although the only part of him that reacts visibly is the widening of his eyes. He seems to understand the flirtatious manner of the tease, although judging by his body language, it was one of the first times that anybody had ever regarded him in such a way. With the cover of the mask, it's hard to tell how he feels about her presence at all. Any giveaways written in the lines of his face are covered by perfectly sculpted porcelain, creating an expression that remained neutral. ]

"Er- My name is Opera." [ A strange name. One that was particularly unique, one that didn't seem like the kind of name a parent would give their child. Nobody looked into the eyes of a baby and named it something so out of the ordinary, but he seems to wear it like it was the name he was given at birth. It was more than a nickname, he introduced himself as Opera without second thought, without a pause or a stutter. Opera pauses for a moment before digging in his seemingly endless pockets, pulling out a small unlabelled white tube. It's no bigger than the length of his hand, from palm to fingertip, and looks to be slightly used.]

"Sunscreen. Since you were looking for it." [ A strange thing for someone to carry sunscreen on them so casually, although nothing about Opera was normal. Between the aviator jacket and the hand-painted porcelain mask, there was something off about him. Opera seems like he had planned to crash on a tropical island. ]

"Do you... need help?"

Oh! I didn't know you actually have sunscreen... Opera. Huh, neat name. I don't want to use up all your sunscreen though, you mind if I just use it on my face?

[She reached for the sunscreen before pausing, a sly grin on her face. Whether she found humor in teasing an ugly guy or she genuinely was into him was up for debate. It wouldn't be the first time Opera was made the but of a joke.]

Good evening gentlemen, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Do you mind if I sit here? I'm sister Eve Gabriel.

[She nodded politely before taking a seat. Her knees sat close to her chest as she plucked the fraying hem of her robe.]

I believe I ought to make friendly with everyone on the island. It's nice to spread good will to others, is it not? Besides, we'll be stuck for a while, so why not be kind before tragedy strikes once more?

[Her gaze softens as she turns to face the twins.]

You two are lucky, y'know. You're twins, right? I hardly know anyone aside from... well that doesn't really matter. What I mean to get at is you have to look out for each other, don't you? That's a rare luxury now. Family truly is a precious thing.

[A wistfully look grows on her face before she smiles once more.]

I haven't been talking too much have I? I've said so much and I don't even know your names yet. Silly me, I forget myself.

-❤️ ( @the-fools-deck)

[ The shorter of the two is the first to acknowledge her presence, his features look softer, more genuine than his slightly taller counterpart leaning against the tree root not meeting her gaze. His smile seems to be genuine, or as genuine as one can be while still being honest with themselves. ]

“Go on ahead, I built a life on not minding the company. When the alternative is being left alone with the contents of your head you learn to be happy with the conversation.”

[ The boy looks at his brother leaning against the tree root, pretending that he isn’t listening. That act might fool most, he is a lawyer after all, but after growing up with him, that was the most obvious thing in the world to his brother. Though it’s not quite eavesdropping if the conversation was sparked with him in mind, he still failed at being discreet in the eyes of the sibling he’d shared a bedroom with for a majority of their childhood years. ]

“That is smart I suppose. Generosity is rather refreshing, especially now.”

[ Something has grabbed the taller boy’s interest, he’s now fully facing Eve. Something she said must’ve caught his full attention. His body language looks much more calculated, like he has practice in looking this casual. ]

“Rather interesting you should say something about that, it’s actually been quite a while since I’ve seen my brother here. Quit the firm and left, haven’t heard much of him. Didn’t even know he was alive up until the plane.”

[ The shorter of the two looks back at his brother, his expression noticeably more sour than before. Something has struck a nerve, but nothing he’s deemed is enough to lose his composure over. ]

“Don’t bother wrecking your brain over that, I often find myself spending most of my time around people who confide too much in strangers. If I’m being quite honest, talking a lot isn’t a bad thing. Since you asked. My name is Abel. This is my brother.”

[ Before he can continue Abel is interrupted, the boy pushes himself forward. ]

“I’m Cain Yarrow of Yarrow Law, and I am perfectly capable of introducing myself Abel.”

Oh. Your parents must not have liked you that much to name you that. Even if you're not devote, most everyone knows who Cain and Abel are.

[She gives them a soft smile.]

Oh, you're a lawyer, Cain? That's a very good profession. I hope you're not a bad lawyer, that'd be terribly disappointing for the people counting on you.

[Eve places a gentle hand on Abel's shoulder.]

You really ought to cherish your family, or at least those that are good to you. You never know when you'll lose them. Some people never know what it's like to have a brother or a sister.

[She turns back to stare at the sand.]

Well, it's none of my business how you two handle your private matters. It's terribly presumptious of me to start inserting myself.

[A branch snapped and out came a short young person. Their eyes narrowed as they approached Louis.]

Are you a cross dresser? Don't lie to me, I can tell you're a man. A woman would've put more effort into her appearance than you do. What really gets me is how no one has seemed to noticed, or at least pretends not to notice.

[They gritted their teeth as their voice grows more desperate.]

What is your secret? Where do you get the- the nerve! I- you think you are so special, don't you? With your- your short dresses and pretty hair! Must be so easy for you to just play around! "Oh look at me! I'm a little cross dresser! I like fooling around in women's clothes like a little fairy!" Must be a real big funny joke to you!

[They scoffed, though not entirely out of disgust. It sounded more like deep rooted jealousy. The kind of pain that came from seeing someone live out a dream you gave up long ago.]

-♦️ ( @the-fools-deck)

The crossdresser isn't too bothered by Asa's sharp tongue. She smiles, not nearly as warmly as the priest or many of the other figures that Asa had met. She has the same bite in her eyes that Asa has. Her bitterness lingers in all too familiar ways. She doesn't even bother hiding her deeper tone of voice when she speaks.

"Very good. You have quite the keen eye, although I'm not really trying to hide it. It was my father's idea, to make him look like a better man to the upper class British society. As soon as one of these disgusting pigs that calls themselves a man offers me clothing, I'll be dropping the façade of Darlene. I don't do it out of sick enjoyment, and I don't like the clothing. Of all the things to be in such an era of time, you really think I'd give up everything to be a woman?"

His bitterness seems to fade as the painted face of Darlene falls. He is someone beyond the woman that he appears to be. He hasn't done the best job, with sloppily painted nails and shaky eyeliner on his lids, but he hasn't done horrible either. The thing that stands out most about his appearance is the fact that he squints at everything, like he can't see a few feet in front of him. He takes a step forward, eyes narrowing at Asa before a grin splits his freckled cheeks.

"You're that guy that Jude was talking to. My apologies, Brother Reeves. What a bunch of fucking bullshit. He used to be a normal dude, I went to school with him. I wouldn't mix up with him if I were you. The guy may seem like he can fix all your problems like some magical bitch when he waves his hands, but he'll only make more for you."

He looks down at Asa, smile flickering from his lips.

"You seem smart. I doubt you'll need that wanker's medical advice. Such a shame that his family... Well y'know."

Asa does not know.

"My name before it was Darlene is Louis. I doubt either of us will live very much longer for you to get back to England and tell everyone I was some weird freak who pretended to be his own cousin to clear his dad's name. I hope I go before you do."

Hm. Well I'd call your father an idiot for making such a plan, but considering it seems to be working he might just be genius.

[Asa sucked his teeth.]

You're lucky you get to just switch back to being a man. Not many people have such a luxury.

[His eyes widened at the mention of brother Reeves.]

Jude... you know him? Huh. Well I think all religions are bullshit and I doubt he has any actual medical training, unlike myself, so I don't need him fixing any of my problems. Unless he's got a fancy little icepick I'm quite fine handling my own like a grown person.

[Asa rubs the fabric of his shirt between his fingers.]

Well I've got nothing to offer clothing wise. I was lucky I was wearing shorts under my skirt, I'd hate to have to run around in well. That. Best of luck to you, Louis. I'll keep your secret if you keep mine. Takes one to know one I suppose, a man in women's clothes I mean.

• the back of cards

Ah, hello there. Do you need something?

[She narrows her eyes, standing up to get a better look at him.]

Do I... know you from somewhere? You seem.. familar.

[She stares some more before her eyes widen.]

Oh! We sat next to eachother in calculus! I remember now! You were.... you were.... Ignatius? Eric? Ivor... Irving! Yes, you're Irving! I'm- I'm Ruth! Ruth Sanchez! Do- do you remember me?

-♠️ ( @the-fools-deck)

I agree. It would have been nicer if we met again in a less "life or death" situation. Though, I suppose it's nicer to have allies in this situation?

The hell are you? Some kind of freaky priest? What's wrong with your eye?

[They look Jude up and down, judgement painting their voice. They chew on their lip before averting their gaze. Nails dig into their bruised arm, agitating the damage. A tremor decieves their conceited tone like a growling chihuahua's shivers.]

What did you get fed as a kid? It's obscene for a person to be that tall.

- ♦️ ( @the-fools-deck )

The man stares down at Asa with a lack of hatred in his eyes, like the harsh words had hardly brushed his skin. He chuckles to himself, just loud enough to be heard, but isn't in poor taste towards Asa themselves. He glances down at the bruise on Asa's arm, and where the nails had dug into skin, blood welling up in small droplets from their nails. In a motion swift and fluid, he pulls a jeweled dagger out from somewhere beneath his robes, and a gutting noise of knife to fabric enters the air.

The man slices his own robe, what was likely a holy garment. The torn piece falls into place like it was never missing, disappearing between folds and pleats created in the green. The man gently moves Asa's arm with warm hands, guiding with a force that feels natural, and ties the torn fabric against the bruised arm.

"Freaky priest is a new one. I think it suits me, though. You're not entirely wrong. Call me whatever makes you happy, but my name is Brother Reeves. And I assume my parents fed me the same thing that most parents in France feed their children. I just got lucky."

Brother Reeves looks at his work, as if he is admiring it. His medical knowledge seems extensive, he put just enough pressure on the wound to not hurt or alter mobility, but enough to stop the bleeding. He tucks the dagger back into his robes somewhere, just as lost as it was before he pulled it out. He doesn't address the eye, or Asa's hurt foot. There is a humorous twinkle in his eye when he looks down at Asa, as if he is taking in their appearance, but not with judgment.

"I like your hair. When mine grows out longer, I'll be sure to go to you to get it cut. Be gentle with yourself. If you need anything at all, I've found the materials for a small shelter twenty paces deep into the woods. You can find me there. Or you can go yourself if you need a quiet place to rest and be alone. Whatever suits your fancy."

Words hang in the air, but Asa can't tell what they are. Brother Reeves is leaving something out, and he won't be saying it any time soon. The metal eye glints in the sunlight, Brother Reeves' visible eye squinting at the rays. He isn't looking at Asa with the hatred of a priest or preacher. He must be something beyond modern religion. He looks pleased with Asa's company and his lips curl up in a real smile.

Hate the sin.

Love the sinner.

[He gently grasped the cloth in his hand, rubbing the cotton between his finger. Asa's voice grew quiet and timid.]

Erm. Yeah, maybe I'll see you again, Reeves. Thanks.

[The sound of a foreigner pierced Opera's silence. It was more of a shock, really, that the volume of someone presumably talking to themself would be loud enough for him to hear.]

[The woman spotted him, amusement painted her face almost immediately. Her manicured hand covered what was surely a laugh.]

My apologies, sir! You must think my complaining is real rich comin' from a chick like me. You gotta be sweating yer ass off in a 'fit like that. How do ya do it, Mista....?

[She trails off, a puzzled look on her visage before she smacked herself in the face.]

Ah damn! I didn't even introduce myself! I'm Marlene Aspen! You can jus' call me Marley though. -🃏 ( @the-fools-deck)

[ While unable to place the direct origin of the accent, the woman is easily placed as an American. Soupy speech that clouded together on certain words, the way that she held herself, and the clothes she wore tied the bow together. What a girl like her was doing on this island was beyond Opera. She seemed so well put together, so in touch with herself. Manicured nails and her hidden giggles signified something deeper than just another girl on the island. She was a well trained one. One that society had formed long before it should have which ways to laugh and which ways to think. Perhaps that was true of all women, though. ]

[ Opera's shoulders tense at her laugh. So calculated. So cold. Something that she thought about doing before she did it, and split through his ears like the ring of a bomb hitting the surface of the Earth. He seemed to take it as a mockery instead of a nervous laugh at herself. Like there was something about him to be laughed at when she had been the one to use such foul language. ]

"You have a right to complain, you know. Doesn't matter who you are. You're stranded, that ought to be hard on anyone." [ Opera's head tilts with confusion, although he can understand the girl perfectly. Someone from money, someone who was pretty. She had nothing to complain about, but that didn't matter in situations of life or death. Did it matter at all? Despite all of her privilege shouldn't she have a right to complain? Wouldn't it be better to complain than to live a life of shame for feeling things out of her control? ]

"It is awfully hot, you should stay in the shade. You don't want your skin to burn."

[ He looks down at her, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and there is almost a comedic twinkle in his eyes. Like he had just told one of the best jokes that anyone could crack, one that only made sense to him, because he seemed to be the only one laughing at it. The thick layers of clothing don't seem to bother him, and don't seem to become abandoned any time soon. ]

Y'know you're a funny fella mista masky or whatever your name is. That's the first step in making friends, you gotta tell eachother your names! You can't turn down a lady when she asks that sort of thing, that's just plain rude!

[She chuckled once more. She was all smiles and giggles, not a care in the whole world.]

You'll be seein' a lot of me, I guarantee it. Ah, maybe if I find some sunscreen you can help me keep from burnin' up?

[She teased. It was the sort of thing that came completely natural to her and completely unnatural for Opera.]