castadrift | [open]

Kaoru sits on the bank of the spring near the camp, considering it with a thoughtful expression on his face. He has many thoughts, among them whether or not it was worth the risk to go for a swim and how much he wants something to eat that wasn't fruit or a vegetable. Even if they are rescued today, he thinks, he will not be eating much fruit when they get home.

When. When when when when. Not if.

How useful would a swim be for a bath without shampoo or any soap at all? Kaoru tugs at his hair a bit in thought, wincing at how greasy and limp it is now. He's always taken a lot of pride in his hair; for now, he is very glad there are next to no mirrors on the island. It is hard enough to know his hair is limp and greasy and ugly without having to actually see how horrible it looks.

Bath without soap. More failed attempts at catching any fish at all. Neither option sounds very appealing, so he continues to just sit at the edge of the water, occasionally throwing a rock into the water to break the tedium. The water is lapping at the bottom hem of his Oscar pajama pants, but he doesn't care right now about that. It dries fast enough.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Of course we did. The only thing that's helped us so far is that we are stuck on an island with food and a lack of polar bears." It'd just be too easy if they were on a regular flight path and someone had a set of binoculars to see them with.

Kaoru doesn't care that Drake takes off his shoes. Fuck, Drake could probably strip and the only effort Kaoru would allow himself would be to close his eyes and not lift his head until Drake was done.

That is not going to happen.

Drake sits in silence for a while, letting Kaoru's last comment drift away on the air. It's thick with mosquitoes this near to the water, and the American huddles deep within his suit in an effort to keep them at bay.

Something tickles his foot. He sucks in a sharp breath, darting backwards and out of the water. It's probably the fastest move Drake has ever made, and from the dubious safety of the bank he stares into the water.

Kaoru opens an eye when he hears Drake move, and chuckled. It doesn't take too much brainpower to figure out what happened. "Nothing in there is going to hurt you," he says, still not bothering to move from his spot. "Nothing I've seen yet, at least. We must not be in the Australia part of the Pacific, or else there'd be a bunch of crazy ecological shit around us."

Drake debates whether the details are things he wants to hear. He decides not. Instead, he peers into the water again. It's relatively clear once you see past the fallen leaves, and there are a few small fish milling about. An idea strikes him, and he looks around him again. Would there be any poles suitable?

"Do you know how to fish?"

Probably not. Some of those details are keeping Kaoru from going near the ocean in case he's wrong and there are the terrifying miniature jellyfish of poison and death, among other things like sharks and stingrays. A stingray killed Steve Irwin - Kaoru wouldn't have a chance.

"Not without a fishing pole and they don't seem all that inclined to swim into my backpack. You have any ideas?"

"Not a backpack, perhaps." Drake goes quiet, his expression turning inwards as he considers the germ of an idea. He doesn't hurry it, knowing that it will form itself in its own time and be better for his patience. "But maybe a shirt, or something bigger." They don't have access to a traditional net, of course, but there has to be something around they can put on the bottom of a pond and lie in wait with.

"Only if you can convince someone to sacrifice their shirt. For the record, you cannot have mine. Or my hoodie." Kaoru only has so much clothes and if he isn't careful, he has a feeling he'll end up wandering around in his cookie monster boxers before long. Pajama pants were not made for any long term wearing.

"What about leaves or coconuts? We seem to be able to do anything out of them."

Automatically, Drake fishes out his mobile phone to google making nets out of coconut leaves. It's only once the svelte wooden casing is in his hand that he remembers it's nothing but a hunk of junk out here, and his fingers tighten around it defensively, frustratedly. He doesn't put it away though. It's comforting, solid, a remnant of the world they haven't got access to.

"We could weave the leaves I guess," he said. "But it doesn't seem like they'd be very strong." He sends a further glance to his rear to look for vines. "Maybe we could make a temporary pond out of sticks or something; trap them in."

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