BURNED BUT NOT BURIED // FISCHER

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]It was simultaneously seamless and troublesome remaining on the island. Gabriel had rarely known what it was like to set down roots and allow them to grow, but he had crawled there partially while in The Ascendants, which were the reasons he found it so easy yet trying to grow comfortable in a jungle. On the one hand, unfamiliarity comprised much of his life; on the other, he had recently allowed himself the luxury of giving a damn, and both would spell out disaster in their own ways. For now, at least, he knew relative peace. Des hadn't fucked up his patch-work job, so Gabriel probably wouldn't die. That was the "peace" part of that phrase. The "relative" stemmed from the fact that his mind continuously trailed back to the cause of all this, pulled in two separate directions despite his own work shepherding it to the one side. He was here because of his son, and more specifically, he was here because his adopted kid had taken it upon himself to spit on everything Gabe did in his name. At the end of the day, that was the primary reason living in The Typhoon was so fraying.

Fortunately, it was pretty. The caves were, anyway, however dangerous they could be, and Gabe found he could spend hours inside. His vision didn't appreciate it so much, but it was quiet. After how tumultuous his life had become, he could use the near-silence, and he didn't hesitate to explore a bit, stretching up to peer into a minecart and ignoring the protest in his ribs. Nothing but dust in this one, sadly. Not even a skeleton he could poke, so he dropped down, dark stare roaming over the walls as though he hadn't already been staring at them for a while now. 

[align=right][i]——INFO