you lied, but I know, 'cause I've got cigarette eyes

[confidenceman]

There was no doubt that Sawyer found Tabula Rasa less comforting by far when compared to the previous island. Somehow, despite all of the inexplicable phenomena of the previous island, ashen smoke snaking through the sky and polar bears thundering through the bamboo, what Sawyer found more terrifying than anything else was reaching out and finding no friction. People on this new island didn't hate him. Couldn't bring it in themselves to care when he was a jackass. No, they all separated into little social pockets, keeping a few close because they couldn't stand to be in this place alone, but rarely weaving into the whole because the more people one knew, the more likely it was that they'd lose someone along the way. It was almost normal.

Sawyer wasn't sure how to cope with that.

He'd made calculated efforts, though. Actually settled down in a hut. Got himself a girlfriend, a role in an island play. But one thing he didn't have was a steady job, something that didn't involve leading people on or making others think he was someone he wasn't. So when Sawyer saw that there were a few openings available for the island radio, his enjoyment of Howard Stern was enough to at least poke his head inside.

"Is this where I'm supposed t'be if I wanna annoy people with my voice every Wednesday mornin'?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.

Comments

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger had not been armed for that question, and when it was asked of him, his shoulders dropped. "I... really don't know, man," Roger said, staring at the ground as he thought about it. "We got news, we do emergency bulletins when we need 'em, Maureen's got the vulgar shit covered..." He thought about the question again, though, and lifted his head back to Sawyer.

"What I want? Is some more fucking music," Roger said with a cursory little laugh, hoarse from sickness and cigarettes. "We got a Goddess giving love advice now, for fuck's sake, and we have someone doing a show for people or whatever that aren't human, we got a one-man show and... I think I'm the only person here that plays a block of music other than what's played in between shifts.

"And that new chick," he added a second later. "She said she wants to play music. I dunno. I guess if you want my... advice, or whatever, I'd say just bullshit it and see what comes out."

[confidenceman]

"Music," Sawyer considered with a slight nod of his head. "I could do some music. Though I dunno how much of this friggin' island, hippies that they all are, would appreciate my type of music. A whole lot of it's country, and there's some classic rock thrown in the mix, but that don't stray too far away from what's already being played and certainly not in the direction of all that poppy mess that people listened to back in the States, when I was around." He raised his brows thoughtfully, scratching under his neck as he considered the other options.

Then he laughed.

"A goddess givin' love advice, is that right? Where's the fun in that? It's nearly like cheatin', or handin' over one's life to someone who's already got an inflated head. What about the people who don't wanna know exactly what's in store for 'em if they bang so-and-so?" He rubbed his thumbnail along his forehead. "Y'know what, that's it. Ford's Love Connection. I'm gonna be that plain old hillbilly who thinks that he can, if nothin' else, say an honest word or two about people and their too-high expectations. How's that for bullshit?"

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger didn't have a taste for country, but he covered southern rock a bit, and hey, there were probably people on the island who wanted to hear country music and Roger sure as fuck wasn't gonna provide that.

He nodded along, letting the dude work this shit out by himself, but after a while, he had to pipe up. "Well, she's not a Goddess anymore. But that doesn't make the idea bad." Roger sat back down in his chair and pushed a few buttons. Hearing a hick give love advice? Yeah, he'd tune in for that. And he laughed.

"Welcome aboard, Ford's Love Advice." He scrawled it onto the roster. "Not bad, new kid."

[confidenceman]

New kid. Sawyer had certainly been called a new kid enough times in his life, all things considered, with how much he moved from one place to another as a child, but recently he'd never really carried himself with any amount of naivety anymore, to the point where he did pull back, showing a slightly confused expression before he chuckled to himself after all. He'd been out of his element for a while. Everyone from Oceanic 815 had been. Maybe that, the fact that he could still find new things to explore on such a limited space of land and for it all to be productive in the general sense, maybe it was good. So he took the approval with a grateful nod of his head.

"Worst love advice in the world it is, then." Pausing, he then asked with a quirk of his brow, "So, how'd you feel about gettin' a beer or somethin' sometime?"