(Untitled)

[nothingtomiss]

He's learned to trust in what routine the island gives them. If things go the way they normally do, there'll be snow on the ground in less than a week, so he's going to get as much surfing in as he can. He's spend a couple of hours out on the water, feels wrung out and tired and relaxed. He ends up sitting on the sand, head down, breathing hard

Comments

[howmanylives]

Inasmuch as Jamie Madrox had a daily routine -- which he'd hesitate to admit that he did, since the idea of doing the exact same thing, day in and day out, didn't much appeal to some of his more adventurous proclivities, his bland wardrobe aside -- walking the dog was undoubtedly part of it. Though Richards was better trained than he'd been when Jamie'd first come across him nearly a year ago, Jack Russell Terriers were, on the whole, a rambunctious breed, and keeping the dog tuckered out through exercise was just about the only way to ensure they wouldn't have to change out the floors in the hut anytime soon. Even so, Jamie was sure to alter their route depending on the day, and despite the fact that he'd been at this long enough to walk over every last inch of this godforsaken rock, the illusion of variety was enough to keep the both of them appeased

[nothingtomiss]

Between the USMC and Eric Cartman, Brad's pretty spectacular at tuning out noise. He notices the dog almost peripherally, glancing up in the act of slicking his wet hair back from his face. For a moment, he almost smiles and then he notices who's chasing after the dog.

Motherfucker.
He should have known he was having too good a day for it to last.

[howmanylives]

With his significant head start, it was all but inevitable that Richards would get there first, but Jamie was no less frustrated for it. As a general rule, he tried to ignore Colbert's existence outside of drunken moments of self-pity -- of which there'd only been a few since Moira first disappeared -- and now, thanks to his damn dog's intervention, he was all but forced into interaction. Where Sean Cassidy had been quick with his fists, however, Jamie Madrox was quicker with his tongue -- and as far as he was concerned, that was a damn shame, too. In their few conversations with each other over the past year and some change, Brad Colbert had proven himself about as witty as Scott Summers, which was to say, not in the slightest.

And really, fond as I am of monologuing, what good's an enemy without banter?Forever barking with enthusiasm, Richards balanced precariously on his short hind legs, his front paws extended towards Colbert's nearest knee. Jamie took advantage of the dog's distraction to latch the leash through the hook of

[nothingtomiss]

"Everybody's got to surf sometime," says Brad, as blandly as he can manage, face not changing as he looks up. "Terry's got her garden, Nate's got his book. They can't keep me occupied 24/7." He leans his weight against his knees. There's something about Madrox that pushes his buttons, but Brad's detirmined not to loose what cool he has today.

"Thankfully, I'm fine in my own company."