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

[rochelle]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; width: 50%; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px;"]Fischer had often questioned her purpose to live in the Typhoon, confusion and doubt had muddled her first few weeks on the island. She first felt guilty for coming to this place, for escaping her past, ridding herself of the burden on her shoulders. Even when she had felt liberated from the shackles of history, something weighed down on her, a pressure on her heart. Survivor's guilt, is what someone might call it. To her, it was the mistake of living. When she had been leader of her group, when that flood brought hell to the land, she should have been there to save everyone. If she could've, every fiber of her being would have been used to hold back the raging water, to quench the thirst of the angry water gods. But she was powerless, and the suffering occurred. She lost Fintan, that young sweet soul, she lost all of her people. Though some survived and built their walls back up with what they had, Fischer left them behind, looking to escape the stress, running from the responsibility.

The thought that had made her wary of her being here was the idea that history would repeat itself. The gods were cruel but she had to be fair with them, if they wanted destruction and pain they would bring it upon her. But the wedge in the concept was her faith to the Typhoon. She felt ... so differently from her birth group to the band of pirates. The feline felt more like a family here than she ever had, when she had actually been surrounded by them. It was a sad price to pay, but leaving behind all she had ever known had made her into a loyal soul, a refined one too. And as grounded as she could get, her sudden blindness helped bring her back up from the pits of despair to earth. Reliance, not only on her crewmates, but trust with herself, had spared her a lot of tribulations and trying times. Did it challenge her? Yes, but it strengthened her too, in mind and body. It was an exercise everyday, waking up and navigating about the island, getting to know every swooping tree, every plank of wood, every grain of sand.

The black smoke liked to focus on a certain part of the territory at a time. Last week, she had mastered the art of mapping out the entrance to the island and the camp. The latter part of the week was spent on the entirety of the jungle, the temple included. The sage tryouts helped her most with that, being able to intimately travel through the undergrowth by herself, sniffing out the spots where beds of herbs lay. Now, it was the many caves. She partially came through the channels to seek out the seaweed that she often remembered latching on to the bruise colored walls. The algae had healing properties, she noticed, and Fischer was curious to see how it would work to mend broken bones. She was figuring if she partially dried a strand so that it was elastic enough, durable enough, it would be ideal to hold together a splint. That's what she was up to when she happened upon Gabriel. Her body clung close to the wall, navigating down the cave with hesitant steps, always feeling where she was going, when her whiskers brushed against a feathered wing of Gabriel's. Instantly she recoiled back, pressing to the wall for stability, and looking blankly ahead at the avian faced creature. "Pardon ..." She murmured gently, voice not nearly loud enough to quiver down the length of the cave. "I, ah ... I didn't know I wasn't the only one in here, apologies." She pursed her lips, feeling a curve of embarrassment creep along her flank.

ooc | sorry abt the late response!!! :0