confidenceman: (you're a womanizer; baby)
James "Sawyer" Ford ([personal profile] confidenceman) wrote2010-12-11 06:22 pm
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you're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel

Christmas was in two weeks. Funny, how Christmas still stood out to Sawyer year after year, even though he didn't care much for the holiday, either in concept or in practice. He'd never been much of a religious kind of guy; the thought that there was someone sentient up in the world who gave all the crap the world went through His stamp of approval just rankled Sawyer. There was, he couldn't help but think, a reason why 'God complex' had a negative connotation, which was that it didn't matter who was in the position of power, to believe that one could completely affect a chain of events, or even that one had a right to try, was dangerous. Even condescending. And maybe a part of him also wanted to think that there was no one up there pulling on puppetstrings, because it was terrifying to think that far from being just another person in the world unable to swim against the current, that there was a force which could render all of his efforts completely useless.

Futility, it stung like a bitch.

From the religious connotations of Christmas to the commercial aspect of it all, Sawyer wasn't a fan of the holiday, but he suspected that he'd recently come into the company of a great number of people who did. So that morning, he was sitting in the kitchen with a few books laid out side by side, mostly do-it-yourself manuals with ideas for gifts he could feasibly make on the island.

[identity profile] blondieburke.livejournal.com 2010-12-12 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
The longer it's cold outside, the less Juliet enjoys getting up in the morning to walk to the compound for her clinic shift. She's at least got a decent coat now and shirts without words on them, so that's a start. Walking to the compound is like walking through an explosion of Santa's workshop though, and while the first couple of days she took her time to look, now she could care less. She wonders if it's supposed to put her in the Christmas spirit or something equally cliche, because it doesn't. She hadn't even realized it was officially that time of year until everything changed.

Walking into the kitchen, she notices she doesn't smell coffee yet, so she shrugs off the pink coat and drapes it over a chair before looking to see who's in the room with her. She eyes the books, looks at James, and goes to find a coffee filter.

"I've heard there's a way to make cold storage," she suggests. "For when it's not already thirty degrees outside."