noonelaughed | [For Claire]

For all that Chris might complain to some people on the island that he's bored, he's not. Not really, anyway. There isn't fucking college to go or any place he's got to to be, and all he's got now is time. Time to explore or meet people or do whatever the fuck he wants. Being on the island means he's got time to think about all the things he never got to do back home, the things he won't get to do back home.

One such thing is something Chris has always wanted to do: he's always wanted to break a world record. Of course, he's not sure it even matters on the island, since it's in some other dimension or whatever, but to Chris, it does. He's found the book on the bookshelf, The Guinness Book of World Records and it's current enough that Chris feels like it's worth giving it a go.

He's on the beach now, in just swim pants and an oversized pair of sunglasses, preparing piles of sand. He's found a shovel in the compound-- not one of those fucking tiny shovels kids use when they're little, but a proper one-- and is more determined than he's been since he can remember.

Chris is going to build the world record biggest sand castle. Or, at least, the island's biggest sand castle. Either way, it's gonna be fucking mega.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Claire's starting to freckle, at last. Only a couple of months back, she had been doing her best to stay inside, wary of hanging out with strangers, wary of settling on the island at all, feeling very much like she had to cling to home to some degree, even if it meant reminding herself how miserable the island was in comparison without her family and friends. But now, she's starting to crawl, inch by inch, toward some sort of nebulous happiness, and it couples with her desire to stay out in the sun all day. Strangely, caring for her skin is one of those things that's just habit, for Claire. She knows she shouldn't have to, there's no reason to suspect that she won't just heal over in a few seconds, cool off from any burn. But after years of having Sandra Bennet smear Banana Boat sunblock all over her face (it's really thick and gummy, Claire remembers), it's just habit now for Claire to do the same.

Today, she's armed with even more than just a small bowl of lotion to reply as necessary. Today, she's carrying around an umbrella as well, one of the big patio types, clearly mended with pieces of clothes from the clothes box. There's a bag slung over her shoulder with all of her schoolwork for the day, and she's just walking along the beach in hopes of some free shade to work under, when she catches sight of Chris. With a shovel.

"If you're burying treasure," she calls out, a grin spreading from cheek to cheek, "I'm pretty sure on the beach isn't the best place. The tide will wash it out."

"I never got the point of all that. I mean, if you've got a fuckin' treasure, why not spend it? Burying it's like... counterproductive, innit?" Chris says, looking up at Claire from his spot in an already ankle-deep hole. He figures that digging's at least half of the job, since he's got to get enough sand for this from somewhere.

"But... I'm not burying anything. What you're witnessing is the beginning of the island's biggest sand castle." He reaches over and picks up a bucket he's nicked from the compound to show her.

She chooses not to answer right away, instead quickly rushing on over to the hole and stepping down in it with some amusement. Claire used to be a lot more sensitive about her height, years ago, getting irritated whenever someone pointed it out or deliberately made her life harder by putting the things she needed in difficult-to-reach places. These days, it's more of a point of pride than anything else, being able to wheedle things out of people with a legitimate excuse, and definitely being able to fit into some of the cutest outfits the island provides (on the rare occasion that it does) without looking like she's skimpy out on clothing too much. It's a win-win. The world raises itself by a couple of inches when she steps down, which only makes her laugh under her breath; she wonders if Chris, as a kid, ever tried to dig his way to China.

"I don't know, I think it's supposed to kind of be like a bank, right?" Claire asks, tapping her cheek. "I mean, if you've got money, why not just spend it, you could say that too. But some people don't want to spend it until later, some people are paranoid and worried about bankruptcy, so burying things is like the primitive version of that, maybe." The smile across her face broadens as she looks over at the large mound of sand, trying to imagine how Chris might end up shaping it.

"Need any help?"

Chris hadn't so much tried to dig to China when he was littler as he tried to dig the world's deepest hole. It was probably a good thing that he'd grown tired of it before he could realize just how little a chance he had of actually breaking that particular world record.

"Yeah, alright," he says, face brightening into an even wider grin at the prospect. Though, the last time someone helped him out, it'd turned into them eating the fucking sugar cubes instead of using them to build, then Tony'd showed up and fucked it all up for good. At least sand isn't edible at all. He'll just have to hope it doesn't rain at all.

"You're sure you haven't got something else to do though?" He gestures at the bag she's brought with her, because it looks like she already had plans.

Although she can't share completely in his joy and excitement, Claire can't help but feel herself growing more enthusiastic after seeing the way that Chris' face lights up, smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Claire doesn't think so little of herself that she expects everyone else to turn a weary cheek whenever she approaches, but in a world where so many seem to be annoyed by uppity, know-it-all teens (even other teens themselves), even the most practical of affection is never easily thrown away on her end.

Claire glances down at her bag with an almost surprised look, having forgotten that she'd brought it along at all. She shuffles over to the side of the hole and places it all down carefully, nudging it away with the tip of her foot. "Eh, as long as I'm in class on time and don't skip my clerical work in the late afternoon, I'm fine," she shrugged, grinning. "You're saving me from having to look at my calculus, basically."

"Then they way I see it, I just saved you an afternoon of fuckin' boredom," Chris replies, because while he can see why some people-- not him, of course-- would take classes at the island school, he doesn't get why anyone would voluntarily take something like calculus. It was like with Jal, revising even though she didn't even need the grades to go to music college, really.

"This is gonna be loads more fun than homework, I can tell you that." Because as serious as Chris might get about things like this, about world records and all that, there's no mistaking that it's got a leg up on Calculus when it comes to entertainment value.

"Probably," Claire confessed with a nod, her lips curved up in amusement as she stepped over by Chris' side, hands on her hips as she looked down and surveyed his work. "I'm mostly taking classes because it gives me stuff to do, and because Peter Parker's like... kind of like an island uncle to me, so his classes are always more fun for me because of that. But I admit, the homework is definitely a downer." She dragged a toe through the sand, starting to draw out a mermaid, the way she always used to do in the margins of her work, taking the time to work out every last scale.

Casting a curious gaze around, Claire then walked to the edge of the slowly forming hole, her palm sinking into the sand as she grinned up at Chris expectantly. "Do you have another shovel somewhere?"

"I thought I was gonna be the only one doin' this," Chris confesses with a small shrug, because he's only got the one shovel, and the only others he knows of are up at the compound or near the garden or stables or something. He's not about to go all the way back up there when he's sure they can get by with the one.

"But you can take this one, if you want. Or maybe you can bring up some water?" He holds up the bucket he's got, an unsure look on his face. It's probably a bit more work at first than it sounded like when he told her what he was up to at first, but eventually, they'll get to the fun bit.

Claire wants to point out that there's no way that he would have been alone for long. The impression that she always has of Chris Miles is that he's the type of personality that pulls together all the people around him, a charmer at best, and welcoming in a way that keeps people from being worried over bothering him or interrupting his plans. But she finds herself not really sure whether or not she wants to encourage him in such a way, fueled instead by a slightly selfish sentiment, one that wants to keep him to herself right now. Him, this experience, this moment that is perfect for how spontaneous it is.

Reaching out, she grabs the handle of the bucket, her hand brushing briefly over his hand as he passes it off. "You look like you've got better arms for the whole digging deal," she admits, casting them a brief glance. "And I'm not afraid of getting a little wet. I'll get the water."

[For Claire]

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