Umbra/Syphon, shortly after landing in the desert
Syphon didn't have time to grab his journal to write in, so there will be no writings of his thoughts accompanying any logs. Sorry for those who read them, and :P to those who don't.
Syphon hits the ground roughly in the middle of the desert, making a cloud of sand and dust where his feet and posterior hit. He quickly unbuckles and shrugs off the chute, tucking it back into the pack. He slings his regular pack over his back and carries the chute pack in his hand as he moves toward where Amara's shoot is fluttering about 20 or 30 meters away. He limps a bit, as the impact of the landing hurt his leg a little. Nothing serious, just discomfort.
Somewhere on the muck, Padraig has disconnected.
Discomfort. What a word to use in such a location. Amara is standing in the middle of the desert, and obviously not too happy about it. Her landing was as smooth as she could ask for, not saying much there, and now she's simply waiting for Thomas to come to her. That thought causes her to pause for a moment, then shrug off the quick bit of independance. She appears to be well, but then again, she normally does.
Syphon walks up, looking just a little worse for wear in his desert gear and eyepatch. "Have a nice trip, kid?" He drops the parachute bag and his gear bag on the ground and proceeds to sit on the chute bag. He looks around in the fading light of the evening, trying to get an idea where everyone else is in relation. A few glints of light on the horizon and a few flutters of chute point out a few.
"Simply wonderful," she replies, bending down to try and pack up her one chute bag as much as possible. This is not something she learned growing up. "Smaller chance of dying than back a few years." Amara sits on the ground then, feeling somewhat defeated, before she removes her sunglasses. "Thank you, for warning me before the jump."
Syphon shakes his head. "I would have done the same for anyone else." Yes, the falsehood in that statement was intended to be obvious. He reaches over and pats her foot. "Besides, I would have been pissed if I had to claim responsibility for you dying. Especially if I had the knowledge to keep you alive." Sweet sentiment, huh? Tommy looks out over the desert and wonders how long until everyone else catches up.
Umbra raises a brow and looks to him. Of course she's not showing much emotion. People could be watching. Damn people. "Charming," she notes as she finishes packing her bag. It is then used as a chair as well as she faces the opposite direction as him, seemingly ignoring him. "What will happen when I die and it is not your fault, Syphon? As there is a great chance that this is my last mission." Now there's something positive.
Syphon shrugs. "I'll probably do one of two things. I'll either a> go into a blind depression, drink myself into oblivion, and die of kidney failure or b>go into a blind rage, attack anyone who happens to try to talk to me, and skin the person who I deem responsible alive." Everything he says is with a light hearted tone and a smile on his face. Though it appears to be a joke, it has the definite possibility of being at least a half truth. "And what makes you think this would be your last mission?"
The smile is not seen, as her back is to him. Amara catches his tone, but does not change hers. In fact, she merely lowers her head a few inches. "Look about us," she says softly, her lips barely moving. "As soon as that sun rises, I will not survive. All the sunscreen and water in the world could not help me." Such depressing conversation. At least she made it another year. "By the way, the Buttercup remark was rather humorous."
Syphon shakes his head and looks at her back. "You're giving up to easy, Amara. We haven't even started yet. They may not realize it, but we have more to survive with here than just what they put in our packs. First of all, we have the parachutes. If everyone hangs on to them, we have something to stretch between the tents to use as sun protection. We can ration water and food so everyone gets enough to survive. If we travel by night and rest during the day, we'll be fine. All of us." He's just not going to accept her thoughts of dying.
Umbra spins around to face him, her eyes wide for just a moment. "I am not giving up too easily, Tommy. I am facing reality. They have given us just enough water to survive on, and that is -not- factoring in my rate of dehydration." She simply looks at him, obviously bothered by the events in the last hour with Padraig, and the thoughts of her death. "Most people can survive with what we have, and do not doubt that I will try to as well, but I will not take more than my share of the rations, and that is simply not enough."
Syphon glares at her with his one unprotected eye. He states quite matter of factly, as if not up for debate, "Then you will share mine." It's not about a friendship, it's not about any kind of attraction. His words give the meaning that he will /not/ leave anyone behind, dead or alive. "I've survived on less for longer. I will give you part of my rations. Period." Stupid chivalry it may be, but there is no arguing at this point.
Umbra scans the area once more, suprised to find no real advancement towards their location. "So now you are my superior?" The question is not said with any real emotion, a sign that she's hiding her annoyance. Or hurt. Or concern. "You will do as you please with the way you eat, but I will not consume anything meant for another." She turns her back to him once more, for appearance sake. "All I ask is that you do one thing for me."
Syphon looks blankly at her, letting the superior comment slide right off of him. "No, I'm just your friend." The words are barely audible and spoken just as she turns her back. He stares a hole through her back in frustration and waits for her to speak.
Again she lowers her head, doing her best to keep every aspect of herself in control. "I appreciate your concern," Umbra finally comments. "It means more to me than you know." Or ever will, probably. "No matter what happens, could you just... say something to me that I have not heard since I was a child?"
Syphon listens to her words and sighs deeply. He looks out amidst the desert and sees some people are finally starting to make their way over to the pair. "As long as it isn't something about leaving you for the buzzards." He smiles to himself a little bit at that one.
Umbra places her hands to her temples. Good thing Tommy isn't a telepath, else he might be getting an earfull from her. "Even though belated, could you at least wish me a happy date of birth? Thirteen years have passed without me hearing so much as a greeting." Except today with Padraig, which only bothered her more.
Syphon stands up and walks over to Amara, while people are still to far away to see them. He places a hand on her shoulder and leans close to her, kneeling behind her. "Amara. Happy birthday." He leans over her head and kisses the top of her hat, as a substitute for the top of her head. A quick squeeze of her shoulder and he is up again and back over to his stuff. Hopefully nobody saw that little display.
No one in Amara's direct line of sight saw it, and that's all that matters to her. She closes her eyes as she continues to wait for the others, doing her best not to appear to have a school girl crush. "That means so much," she whispers, before finally gathering her items and preparing to join the others headed their way.
Syphon hits the ground roughly in the middle of the desert, making a cloud of sand and dust where his feet and posterior hit. He quickly unbuckles and shrugs off the chute, tucking it back into the pack. He slings his regular pack over his back and carries the chute pack in his hand as he moves toward where Amara's shoot is fluttering about 20 or 30 meters away. He limps a bit, as the impact of the landing hurt his leg a little. Nothing serious, just discomfort.
Somewhere on the muck, Padraig has disconnected.
Discomfort. What a word to use in such a location. Amara is standing in the middle of the desert, and obviously not too happy about it. Her landing was as smooth as she could ask for, not saying much there, and now she's simply waiting for Thomas to come to her. That thought causes her to pause for a moment, then shrug off the quick bit of independance. She appears to be well, but then again, she normally does.
Syphon walks up, looking just a little worse for wear in his desert gear and eyepatch. "Have a nice trip, kid?" He drops the parachute bag and his gear bag on the ground and proceeds to sit on the chute bag. He looks around in the fading light of the evening, trying to get an idea where everyone else is in relation. A few glints of light on the horizon and a few flutters of chute point out a few.
"Simply wonderful," she replies, bending down to try and pack up her one chute bag as much as possible. This is not something she learned growing up. "Smaller chance of dying than back a few years." Amara sits on the ground then, feeling somewhat defeated, before she removes her sunglasses. "Thank you, for warning me before the jump."
Syphon shakes his head. "I would have done the same for anyone else." Yes, the falsehood in that statement was intended to be obvious. He reaches over and pats her foot. "Besides, I would have been pissed if I had to claim responsibility for you dying. Especially if I had the knowledge to keep you alive." Sweet sentiment, huh? Tommy looks out over the desert and wonders how long until everyone else catches up.
Umbra raises a brow and looks to him. Of course she's not showing much emotion. People could be watching. Damn people. "Charming," she notes as she finishes packing her bag. It is then used as a chair as well as she faces the opposite direction as him, seemingly ignoring him. "What will happen when I die and it is not your fault, Syphon? As there is a great chance that this is my last mission." Now there's something positive.
Syphon shrugs. "I'll probably do one of two things. I'll either a> go into a blind depression, drink myself into oblivion, and die of kidney failure or b>go into a blind rage, attack anyone who happens to try to talk to me, and skin the person who I deem responsible alive." Everything he says is with a light hearted tone and a smile on his face. Though it appears to be a joke, it has the definite possibility of being at least a half truth. "And what makes you think this would be your last mission?"
The smile is not seen, as her back is to him. Amara catches his tone, but does not change hers. In fact, she merely lowers her head a few inches. "Look about us," she says softly, her lips barely moving. "As soon as that sun rises, I will not survive. All the sunscreen and water in the world could not help me." Such depressing conversation. At least she made it another year. "By the way, the Buttercup remark was rather humorous."
Syphon shakes his head and looks at her back. "You're giving up to easy, Amara. We haven't even started yet. They may not realize it, but we have more to survive with here than just what they put in our packs. First of all, we have the parachutes. If everyone hangs on to them, we have something to stretch between the tents to use as sun protection. We can ration water and food so everyone gets enough to survive. If we travel by night and rest during the day, we'll be fine. All of us." He's just not going to accept her thoughts of dying.
Umbra spins around to face him, her eyes wide for just a moment. "I am not giving up too easily, Tommy. I am facing reality. They have given us just enough water to survive on, and that is -not- factoring in my rate of dehydration." She simply looks at him, obviously bothered by the events in the last hour with Padraig, and the thoughts of her death. "Most people can survive with what we have, and do not doubt that I will try to as well, but I will not take more than my share of the rations, and that is simply not enough."
Syphon glares at her with his one unprotected eye. He states quite matter of factly, as if not up for debate, "Then you will share mine." It's not about a friendship, it's not about any kind of attraction. His words give the meaning that he will /not/ leave anyone behind, dead or alive. "I've survived on less for longer. I will give you part of my rations. Period." Stupid chivalry it may be, but there is no arguing at this point.
Umbra scans the area once more, suprised to find no real advancement towards their location. "So now you are my superior?" The question is not said with any real emotion, a sign that she's hiding her annoyance. Or hurt. Or concern. "You will do as you please with the way you eat, but I will not consume anything meant for another." She turns her back to him once more, for appearance sake. "All I ask is that you do one thing for me."
Syphon looks blankly at her, letting the superior comment slide right off of him. "No, I'm just your friend." The words are barely audible and spoken just as she turns her back. He stares a hole through her back in frustration and waits for her to speak.
Again she lowers her head, doing her best to keep every aspect of herself in control. "I appreciate your concern," Umbra finally comments. "It means more to me than you know." Or ever will, probably. "No matter what happens, could you just... say something to me that I have not heard since I was a child?"
Syphon listens to her words and sighs deeply. He looks out amidst the desert and sees some people are finally starting to make their way over to the pair. "As long as it isn't something about leaving you for the buzzards." He smiles to himself a little bit at that one.
Umbra places her hands to her temples. Good thing Tommy isn't a telepath, else he might be getting an earfull from her. "Even though belated, could you at least wish me a happy date of birth? Thirteen years have passed without me hearing so much as a greeting." Except today with Padraig, which only bothered her more.
Syphon stands up and walks over to Amara, while people are still to far away to see them. He places a hand on her shoulder and leans close to her, kneeling behind her. "Amara. Happy birthday." He leans over her head and kisses the top of her hat, as a substitute for the top of her head. A quick squeeze of her shoulder and he is up again and back over to his stuff. Hopefully nobody saw that little display.
No one in Amara's direct line of sight saw it, and that's all that matters to her. She closes her eyes as she continues to wait for the others, doing her best not to appear to have a school girl crush. "That means so much," she whispers, before finally gathering her items and preparing to join the others headed their way.