Sun and Hunger.. [Open]

[Paige Winterbourne]

Through her closed eyes, all Paige could see was a bright red light. It hadn’t gone away, in a very long time either. Since she’d woken up she hadn’t quite wanted to open her eyes, so now she was sat on the beach, leaning back, with her eyes shut. She was perfectly awake, and had been for quite a while, the glaring light pretty much saw to that.

Being from England, Paige was used to a little sun. Usually accompanied by some overcast clouds, and cold whipping winds after not too long. This was just warm, it was hot, and it was really bright. It was annoying her. Giving up her futile attempt of ignoring the fact she was stuck on an island, in the glaring heat. There was one singular thing that was driving her crazier than the heat though. Simply put – her stomach. Barring the heat, the key reason she was staying sat so still was because she feared if she stood up she would fall over from light headedness. She had eaten enough food for some one of her age and size and that’s how she planned on keeping it until she couldn’t function, not exactly smart but she doubted some would notice the signs on her.

With a long sigh, she’d given up pretending to be somewhere else than here. It was impossible. She’d never been good at fantasies. Suddenly for the first time in her life, she regretted that fact. Surveying the beach showed that most people were either sitting or doing something productive. Deciding, as soon as she felt less dizzy she’d so the same, and began deep breathing, trying to block it out for now. Hoping that she didn’t look to sick to any one walking by, they would just not be fun in the slightest.

[Hurley Reyes]

It was just so brutally hot.

Sure, Hurley should be used to it. He lived all his life in Santa Monica, California. Naturally, it wasn't exactly the Arctic Circle in that area of the world, and the young man should have been quite used to the heat by now. But there, airconditioning and ceiling fans abounded. Here, there was nothing to beat back the oppressive heat. It was different; it wasn't the natural sort of hot whether he was used to back home. Here, it wasn't just a temperature; it was something in the air. It felt thick, dense, as though the heat had compressed and formed an invisible, but still obviously present smog through which Hugo Reyes was currently walking. The power source for the whole thing was high above him now, shining down with all it's might. The result of all of this was that Hurley was sporting rather large sweatstains on his shirt, though he could hardly be blamed for it. A man of his build held a lot of water to sweat out, and that was exactly what he was doing, as he progressed slowly down the beach.

Everything about this place seemed to be bent upon impeding his progress as he walked laboriously through the sand. The gravel seemed to be sucking in his sneakers, which were quite full of the substance by now. The heat was slowing him down. And the way the beach appeared to elongate and stretch out before him made it feel like he'd never make it even the next five yards. But it wasn't as though he had a real, solid destination. In fact, Hurley didn't have any idea where he was headed, aside from the fact that he wanted to move in the opposite direction of where he'd just been. He held a water bottle in his hand, though even when he afforded himself small drinks from it, it wasn't much comfort. There were no refrigerators here, and as a result, the water tasted warm and stale. Drinking was carried out to serve a purpose only, not to alleviate any of his discomfort.

As he slowly progressed across the beach, he found himself mere feet away from a young woman. She was slim, much slimmer than he, of course, and had a curtain of dark brown hair. He paused, squinting to ward off the brightness of the sun. "Uh, hey," he said softly, not wanting to startle her or anything. He didn't really know why he was initating conversation, but he didn't have anything better to be doing, so it was just as well. "Are you okay?" This seemed like a natural sort of question to ask, since they'd recently been in a plane crash, and everyone was a bit shaken up.

[Paige Winterbourne]

Paige’s head tilted slightly as she was forced to focus on a singular form. It made her head spin lightly and made her feel incredibly nauseous. Attempting to stop the tirade of sick feelings ripping at her stomach, she leant back on her arms and reached for a small piece of metal debris. Scraping the sand away till she’d eased of a few inches she pulled a bag out which held a few pieces of fruit. It wasn’t that she was scared people were not going to share their food, it was quite simple actually. She liked food, and if you buried something low down the sand kept in slightly chilled. Although to the average person it did probably look like she was hiding her food.

She took a bite before even attempting to speak, using it to faze of the dizzy and nausea spell. It only took two bites which was very strange, she’d usually be half way to unconscious by now. Shaking of that thought as being ridiculous, it was probably just due to the fact she was disorientated and was losing track of what time she ate and slept. Not that there was actually time here to really be concerned about – she highly doubt she’d find a Big Ben on the island. It was on that ludicrous thought she realised that her mind had pretty much bolted off on an extremely odd set of thoughts and she couldn’t help herself for smiling a little.

Gesturing with one of her hands to the ground next to her she indicated for him to sit if he wished not the part with the hole obviously. Inviting someone to sit in a hole isn’t exactly the polite way to begin a conversation. The man looked tired and in need of a break, and Paige could really do with something to take her mind of her stomach and someone to have a conversation with. ”All things considered, I believe I’m doing pretty fine.” grinning at him, her English accent came out very thick. ”How are you felling?”

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley watched with curiosity as the girl dug gown and drew something up from the ground. It turned out to be some sort of bag, which, when she opened it and pulled one of its contents out, was revealed to be containing a quantity of fruit. The man was rather puzzled by this entire action. Why was she hiding fruit in the ground like pack rat? He could understand if she had some sort of, secret stash left of the snacks they'd gotten from the airplane, as most of that was gone by now. But if it was just fruit, why bother? There was plenty of that lying around, some collected here and the rest pretty plentiful in the jungle. It wasn't like likely that someone was going to steal heres if they wanted anyway. It just seemed unecessary, to him.

However, all things considered, Hugo Reyes was a man who could sympathize with wanting to keep a little food nearby. He had quite an appetite--and it showed, obviously. The roughly twenty-four hour period following the crash had been the most difficult. It took a long time to organize the food they'd salvaged and then pass it out so everyone got a share. By the time that was done, Hurley hadn't eaten for nearly an entire day, which for his body was far too long. After that, though small, the meals were more frequent, and he had a much easier time of things. Sure, he was getting pretty darn sick of fruit already, but it was nourishment he supposed. Still, he'd love a nice bucket of Mr. Clucks chicken right now. And hell, he owned the place now, he could have whatever he wanted from there. If only he was in California, and not this island.

The brunette patted the sand beside her, indicating that he could sit, and Hurley sat down slowly, easing himself down onto the hot sand with a soft grunt. When she spoke, she had a fairly obvious accent, and though Hurley wasn't much of a world traveler. he was fairly certain he could place it correctly as English. He'd seen enough movies and tv to know that much, anyway. "Well, that's good." He said with a smile. "I'm alright. This is no cruise ship, but I'm sure I'll be fine until rescue shows up." He squinted out at the horizon, as if expecting boats or planes, or anything really to drive up right in that moment. But of course, all he saw was the vast expanse of sea and sky. "I'm Hurley, by the way."

[Paige Winterbourne]

Leaning forward she liberated a small knife from her sock, flicking it in her hand expertly she dug it into the piece of fruit before slicing a few chunks off and handing it too him. She savoured the sweet tasted for a few seconds before resuming the conversation. Also that fact that it was virtually ice cold was amazingly helpful. The chilled fruit had the effect off cooling her down more than you might have actually expected, but then that was why she’d buried the fruit in the first place – she hoped the cold fruit would explain the reason why she was burying food. Paige tended to over think things. However she did think them out logically, it wasn’t as if she came up with the reasons she did things out of madness – everything had some kind of logical conclusion.

The knife was one – her father had been in the Navy and had drilled it into her always carry a knife. so she did. Also the fact that it was made from a completely ceramic blade like the other two she had meant that they avoided metal detectors. That wasn’t her father – that was her. She couldn’t help smiling at the thought of it. She took a few minutes to take in his accent and try and place it – coming up with a blanket term of “American” she decided not to really bother thinking on it more. Until the foreseeable future this was the place they lived.

She followed his gaze out to sea, hoping that a boat would magically pop up. ”It would be nice if it was a cruise ship, preferably a cruise with a 6 course meal... with double desert .” pausing for a second she seemed to think on the idea a little more before continuing with a smile, ”And some chicken... I miss chicken.” grinning at the ocean again, she turned towards Hurley offering him her hand. ”My names Paige.”

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley watched curiously as the young woman flicked open a knife and began slicing into the fruit. He wondered briefly where she'd gotten the knife; had she checked it through the airport, or perhaps found it on the body of one of the dead? The idea of searching the pockets of the deceased made Hurley feel slightly sick inside. That guy, Sawyer, had been doing it right after they crashed. Hugo knew he'd taken something from one of the dead men, but he hadn't seen what. It was disgusting, that was. Maybe they didn't need whatever they were carrying anymore, but if they were home, that kind of behavior wouldn't be tolerated. Still, as he watched the girl, she seemed to have the sort of familiarity with the knife that suggested she was used to holding it. If that wasn't the case, she would probably have handled it more clumsily, more cautiously.

He took the fruit that was offered to him and took a tentative bit of it. It was surprisingly cold, and that seemed to explain her reason for burrying it under the sand. The shelter from the sun and the stale air kept it cool, and Hurley noted that he would have to remember that and try it himself, because warm water and fruit wasn't all that appetizing of a meal. The cool juice from the fruit trickled down his throat and soothed it in a way that simple water hadn't done, and the sweetness of it pacified his stomach. "Thanks," he said gratefully, before taking another bite of the sweet fruit. Maybe everything wasn't so bad after all. You just had to learn to appreciate the little things, he supposed.

He listened to her preference for a cruise with several courses per meal, and couldn't help but smile. Here was a woman after his own heart, although she didn't at all look it. Whereas Hurley's love of food was fairly obvious in the extra weight he carried around, this woman was slim and didn't at all look as though she could half of what she was fantasizing about. "Yeah, chicken..." Hurley mused wistfully, thinking back to those days when he would bring a bucket of it home from work with him, and then to the times when he owned that chicken shack and could have as much as he wanted. "I used to work in a chicken restaurant," he said with a slow smile. "It was called Mr. Clucks." He decided not to mention that he now owned part of the restaurant's franchise. He didn't like to tell people about the money he had now; he just wanted to be treated the way he was without the money. And maybe, if he didn't mention it, all the bad stuff would stop happening. "Nice to meet you, Paige."

[/size]

[Paige Winterbourne]

Paige grinned; she’d always considered owning a restaurant. But restaurant businesses aren’t exactly built for people who are more used to computers. Chefs have a certain degree on insanity and uncontrollability about them that just put them utterly apart from a computer or a program. Food its self – she could understand, chefs; another matter all together. With a glance back down to her fruit, she realised her brain had gone utterly on a random track. Where she was currently set – opening up a restaurant was pretty much the last thing on any ones mind. Unless they were little restaurants on the boats. As much as she wanted to get rescued – she was beginning to get sick thinking about it, best to just wait and enjoy a free holiday.

”Ok, if we get rescued today – You are so taking me to that restaurant.” She grinned, her head falling to one side to try and change position from the glaring sun. Even her darkish brown hair was beginning to become streaked with blonde. She didn’t even know that was strictly possible. After she had finished the fruit she felt less dizzy, although it was only enough to put of the pain for a hour at most. People seemed to envy the fact she could eat so much and stay so ridiculously thin – for her it drove her around the bend when she was stuck somewhere with small meals. Or like here... with no meals. ”I’d take you to my job – but it would be nowhere near as fun as a restaurant. In fact you’d probably get bored to tears within 5 minutes.

Musing on the status of her current job – possibly the eight this year, it did more to depress her than cheer her up. Her brief spurts into her lecturing career kept her excited for about 3 months if she was extremely lucky. This last one last 2 months, possibly due to the class she’d gotten. True – half of them were brilliantly enthusiastic, the other half made her wont to hit them. Her current spurt was a tour of Anthropology at the UCE. Some people seemed to think it was an easy degree and went for it, then realised there was more to Bones and cultures than they though. ”Unless you feel like sitting in a room with around 50 students... half of which would be asleep.” she shot another grin at him; even in a situation like this she was pretty happy most of the time. Although the current serious state of no electricity was just about making her manic, she missed her computers.