(no subject)
Gideon had mostly come to expect all the shit the island threw at him. It'd been a long fucking month the month before - the disappearance of someone else he knew being the fucking cherry on the top - but for the most part, he just kept going. He knew if he didn't, he'd fucking go insane. Things were a little calmer now since the storm came in, at least, so he was just taking it easy.
There were, however, some things he knew he had to address soon. He'd realized the other day that he was quickly running out of space to put the boxes of 'good' movies he'd been hoarding. In his old hut, this shit probably wouldn't have been a problem since it'd been gigantic. In this new one, that was just enough space for one person, he knew that he'd eventually need to get a bigger place or return some of the shit to the Compound. It was a task that was easier said than done - he easily had at least five full boxes to go through.
In a fit of actual productivity, he decided that morning to bring a box from the Compound to start piling in the shit he was going to ultimately bring back. After some consideration, he eventually set up the project outside, since he didn't really have that much room to move around inside. He dragged out his first boxful - one of the oldest of the bunch - and started leafing through the cans. It was a simple system - the maybes were put aside on the ground for the moment, the ones definitely staying stuck in the box they were originally in, and the ones going went into the new box.
The snag in the plan wasn't hard to spot a few minutes later. Going through the movies, nearly all of them were in the 'maybe' pile at best. Even the shittiest movies he owned seemed hard to give up knowing that, down the line, he might want to watch them again. Shit, with how the fucking bookshelf was, he might not see any of the ones he gave away ever again.
Frowning down at his copy of Hudson Hawk, he eventually added it to the ever growing 'maybe' pile. Shit, he hadn't even considered this would be remotely as hard as it was when he started this.
[OOC: Open to new and old! He's by the Hamlet area, and is by far loud enough to hear]
There were, however, some things he knew he had to address soon. He'd realized the other day that he was quickly running out of space to put the boxes of 'good' movies he'd been hoarding. In his old hut, this shit probably wouldn't have been a problem since it'd been gigantic. In this new one, that was just enough space for one person, he knew that he'd eventually need to get a bigger place or return some of the shit to the Compound. It was a task that was easier said than done - he easily had at least five full boxes to go through.
In a fit of actual productivity, he decided that morning to bring a box from the Compound to start piling in the shit he was going to ultimately bring back. After some consideration, he eventually set up the project outside, since he didn't really have that much room to move around inside. He dragged out his first boxful - one of the oldest of the bunch - and started leafing through the cans. It was a simple system - the maybes were put aside on the ground for the moment, the ones definitely staying stuck in the box they were originally in, and the ones going went into the new box.
The snag in the plan wasn't hard to spot a few minutes later. Going through the movies, nearly all of them were in the 'maybe' pile at best. Even the shittiest movies he owned seemed hard to give up knowing that, down the line, he might want to watch them again. Shit, with how the fucking bookshelf was, he might not see any of the ones he gave away ever again.
Frowning down at his copy of Hudson Hawk, he eventually added it to the ever growing 'maybe' pile. Shit, he hadn't even considered this would be remotely as hard as it was when he started this.
[OOC: Open to new and old! He's by the Hamlet area, and is by far loud enough to hear]