every chance we get, aria.

[marcus clarence kingston ii]

[atrb=border,0,true] how did things end up this way, any ways? it was a question that had been revolving around marcus' mind from his initial days spent on the island, perhaps for half a year or more now. though, he couldn't be sure - day and night seemed to just blend together, until his stay on the island had become a shapeless blur of misfortune and bitterness. misfortune, because who the hell wanted to be confined in the middle of east jesus nowhere, with only the most basic of supplies and none of the luxuries of home? the situation that the islanders had found themselves in was a precarious one - on one hand, everyone seemed eager to instill some sort of sense of community into their scenario. on the other hand, the bottom line was that everyone was fighting for survival, and things could go horribly wrong at the drop of a hat. bitterness, because he was a cop, and a damn good one at that, and he had just been finding his feet in honolulu. now there he was, restricted to the island and still attempting to enforce some sort of order to their day-to-day lives. chaos, anarchy, vigilantism - they were all ideas that he had been informed were the reasons behind the legal system, behind law enforcement, why he shined his shoes before going to work and carried a gun cocked in his holster. a gun, mind you, that he was extremely paranoid of losing now that he was stuck on the island. marcus had it in his mind that someone was going to pull the metaphorical rug beneath his feet one of these days, and steal his only means of keeping some sort of control over the others. though, with that said, it wasn't as if the kingston male wanted to assert himself as their leader or something. really, he just wanted to be able to to keep some sort of coherency between all the individuals, and the gun helped to do the talking sometimes. there were others on the island who wouldn't hesitate to use up the last precious clip that he had, just to get their way and the best of what the other islanders had. for that reason, and despite being the token police officer on the island, marcus kept to himself as much as he possibly could. his hut was situated on the outskirts of the main settlement, and he was often on the move. that way, he could keep an eye out for trouble and yet, minimised the possibilities of being intercepted and held up by a crazy with a sharpened stick, or something. currently, he was seated at the tumble of rocks which marked the edge of the camp area. from here, he could see the vast expanse of the ocean and the misty impression of the headland to his left. when he had been dropped off at the island, he had been dressed for a day of work, and for that reason, his clothes were still slightly formal looking despite the fact that they were ragged and in bad need of repair. with his dress shirt open around his chest, and his slacks slung low and rolled up on his legs, marcus figured that he looked like a middle-classed caveman. he did try to keep himself as clean and presentable as possible, however. it was a habit that was hard to shake, and the evidence of his attempts were the array of nicks on his cheeks where he had attempted to shave with a bare knife and a sheet of metal as a mirror. it was a little hopeless, but it was those normal routine things that he did on a day to day basis that kept him going. one of his favourite island past times was simply staring over the ocean, silently contemplating on the dramatic turn of events that his life had succumbed to. often his thoughts were immersed in elaborate plans for the future, or more like, the future he hoped to have in the event that he ever got off the damned place. they were rose-tinted images, of a home with a sprawling drive and white picket fences, an anonymous bride and two chubby babies. of the stripes of the sheriff on his uniform and the eventual chance to move back to mainland america. though, the male was finding it harder and harder to keep grip of his hopes and dreams these days. everything just seemed so bleak and so desolate. marcus had given up on hope a while back - he was simply functioning on practicality and a desire to survive. it was a dog eat dog world, and he knew how to make it work the best for him. at least, that was what he kept telling himself. with his gun resting against his thigh and his hands aimlessly whittling at a hunk of driftwood, his thoughts were far from the island and his predicament. for that reason, the male noticed nothing of what happened to be unfolding around him in that current moment. but you don't want anyone

[aria sienna prescott]

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every day that aria spent on that island was the same. it was routine after routine, following the same patterns, drifting about, snacking on fruit and other foods that they'd managed to scrounge up from the ocean, or the jungle. for aria though, she found it all rather boring. they needed excitement, they needed life - and if she was to spend the rest of her life on that island, she would be damned to allow anyone here spoil her fun. she'd found a spot in the shade of the trees, her long legs stretched out before her, her shorts cut off around mid thigh, and her white singlet was twisted up at the front to reveal a tanned midriff. her hair, like most days, was swept up in a pony tail, kept out of her face, and out of the way from the branches that seemed to enjoy tangling themselves in her hair whenever she took a stroll to the waterfall. the waterfall might not have been all to far from camp, but she'd never stuck to the regular path, and had found herself wandering off looking for anything interesting to keep her active imagination at bay. on this day however, she was keeping a close eye on one hut in particular.

the camp was definitely forming it's own community, and there was definitely some that seemed to rule over the rest of the camp more than anyone. those who enforced the laws, and made sure everyone from around the camp knew exactly what they could, and what they couldnt do. this hut though, it held some of their most valuable supplies - things that they'd picked up from cargo drops, or different tools that they'd managed to create out of odd bits and pieces from around the camp, and the jungle. aria found it odd, rationing things off, and only giving them out if people really needed them. knives and such were usually given to those who were hunting or cooking, and in most cases were kept way out of reach of anyone who was considered a threat, but things such as food were also kept in this hut, and it was this that she was after most. she couldn't remember the last time she'd been rationed some fruit. tired of the fish that she'd been made to eat every night of the last week. it wasn't too much to ask for some fruit, or something sweet. then again, she'd never really been inside the hut to see exactly what they had on offer. it wouldn't have surprised her if this hut held more secrets from her.

people came and went as the day went on, and her blue eyes were focused on them, watching their movements, checking who of the unlucky seventeen had been in and out of the hut that day, and how frequent their visits were. it was probably the thief in her that was calculating the chances of getting away without being caught. back home, she'd been put on the most wanted list after a few successful robberies. bank robberies to be exact. her name had been over the front of newspapers for weeks, back home in tulsa. which was precisely why she made the move to hawaii. here, she was safe, at least for the moment. jail wasn't exactly the type of place she wanted to wind up, although the island seemed more like a jail to her than anything. part of her had wished she'd stayed back home and let them get her, at least she knew that she'd wind up home again one day, after her time in prison was completed.

finally though, as the sun was creeping ever lower over the horizon, and the fires had started to be lit along she beach, she climbed to her feet. the trees were creating enough of a shadow for her to slip through the door of the hut without too much thought. reaching for an empty backpack, she first went for the knives, sliding one of the old hunting knives into the front pocket. the things in here were definitely kept secret for a reason, if the people of the island knew how much they had, there would be bedlum to get a hold of the things they needed the most. instead though, she grabbed a few pieces of varying fruit, and a few bottles of water and shoved them into the backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. but as she was leaving, her thoughts were off, and she hadn't even noticed one of the others walking up towards the hut. a timid smile fell over her lips as she tugged the backpack higher over her shoulder, and slipped past them, ignoring their curious glance as she hurried her way back down the beach.

she hadn't gotten far though when she heard the cry of alarm, and immediately she broke out into a run, her eyes locked on the rocks towards the edge of the camp. it would have been to easy to run into the jungle, stray off of the main path and wind up lost. instead, she figured the cove would be the best place to stash her backpack, and hide away until she found it safe to go back to the camp. the sand was dry and hard to run in, but her legs continued to pump effortlessly as she huffed her way towards the rockery. ignoring the man who was sitting on the pile, she started to climb over them, sliding the bag off of her shoulder she threw it quickly to him. hold that for me she demanded, as she scrambled her way up the slope, yanking the strap back out of his hands and cast a glance back over her shoulder, a sly smirk falling over her lips. thanks stud she breathed, starting off quickly down the other side, the bag held once more over her shoulder as she dashed off towards the cove.

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[marcus clarence kingston ii]

[atrb=border,0,true] one of marcus' more elaborate dreams involved leggy brunettes running towards him over stretches of pristine sand, dressed in nothing but a bikini ninety percent of the time. he was a lust starved individual, particularly because of the whole island scenario. back on the mainland, finding a woman to entertain him for an evening or two wasn't necessarily a hard task - it was just that they never managed to hold his interest long enough for the male to become satisfied. however, he definitely wasn't expecting a woman to come bounding up to him on the tumble of rocks that he was precariously seated upon. swearing as he nearly dropped his knife into his leg, the blonde looked up at the girl that had happened across him, opening his mouth to ask her what the fuck she was doing but being cut off by the sensation of a heavy bag smacking him in the chest. like i have a fucking say in the matter, muttering in a heavily accented voice and hauling himself to his feet, marcus sheathed the knife into the strap of his belt, and gave the girl a quick glancing over, immediately recalling who she was. he was a police officer, for christ's sake - he had heard enough about aria prescott to know that she was trouble, and yet, he couldn't help but to allow his gaze to drift to the tanned expanse of her flat stomach. it didn't really help that she was just that gorgeous, but he supposed that some criminals were. that latter thought shook him out of his stupor as she yanked the bag away from him and hurried away. you're welcome? glancing after her as she sped off, marcus turned to look back at the main camp, noticing a couple of other islanders giving a chase in the distance. sighing with a visible note of distaste, he turned, wheeling after the girl and setting off at an easy lope in pursuit. he was lean and a little malnourished from the lack of iron and protein on the island, but his police training gave him enough stamina to be able to catch up with her soon enough. the result was an easy tackle which he politely took the fall for, rolling beneath her as they fell and taking both of their weight straight into the sand. despite the fact that he was about a hundred percent sure that she had been attempting to nick something, marcus began to laugh, the sound a deep rumble as he adjusted his arms around her waist. you know, if you had asked nicely, aria, i'm sure that whoever you stole from would have given up their loot. judging from what had spilled out of the backpack, the person she had stole from rightly deserved to have the islanders pick and choose from their hut. though, he was supposed to protect people and their possessions, so really, he couldn't just let her run on by. however, his thoughts were distracted by the fact that there was this perfect specimen of a woman laying atop of him, and that there was a chance that he would have to reprimand her. for some reason, that last thought didn't rest well with him, and the male sighed. wriggling out from beneath her, he shouldered the backpack, offering a hand to her with an unreadable expression. you know, the only reason i'm gonna help you out here is because you're hot. back on the mainland, he wouldn't have dared to say such a thing, but fuck it. marcus just didn't care anymore. he wasn't happy, he was fairly sure that he was going to be stuck on this island for the rest of his life and punishing the girl before him was really not going to make him any happier. come on. resuming at an easy jog, the male headed around the next sand dune and back into the line of the jungle, slowing to a walk as the unlikely duo became engulfed by the trees around them. surely, the islanders would have opted to go the long way to get to the tumble of rocks that the pair had met upon, and therefore would have missed their flight into the jungle? for the sake of saving face, marcus hoped so. in fact, he was wondering whether the only reason he had helpd her out was simply because she was pretty. if that was the case, then the young police officer had something to worry about. as he inclined his head to look at the brunette, he laughed again, shaking his head as he took a left and began the trek back to his hut. being situated on the outskirts of the main camp, marcus was next to positive that no one would bother them. that, and the main law enforcer on the island would definitely not be suspected of harboring a thief, either - that fact bought some grim chagrin to his face, but he could worry about that later. but you don't want anyone

[aria sienna prescott]

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she didn't recognise him, and why should she? other than him being a quite attractive blonde foreigner - that was a lie, he was extremely attractive, but hat uniform he wore, even if it was in tatters, reminded her just he type of people she was mixing herself in with on this island. perhaps that was really why she'd grabbed that bag back quick enough, hoping that he didn't get a proper look of her face. although, when she came to think of it, what could he possibly do here on the island? tie her to a tree, and hand feed her until they were rescued? a snort escaped her lips, and she shook her head. absurd she mumbled, but what shocked her instead, was arms wrapping around her waist, knocking her forward. she landed with a thump against the hard, warm chest of the man who she'd thrown her bag at. the backpack had flopped into the sand, and the few items had scattered out into the sand, leaving a small pout of annoyance to fall over her lips. if i had asked nicely, they'd have told me to wait until dinner. she heaved, her hands pressing hard against his chest as she sat up, straddling his waist as she watched down at him. her lips turned upwards in a light smirk, and immediately she found herself distracted by his features. that jaw.. ugh, he was one fine man, and there he was straddled between her legs, just where she liked a good strong man. ...you know my name, not surprising. she mumbled as she picked a moment at his shirt. but unfortunately, sweetheart... i don't know yours. shame, really. she rolled her eyes. but gee, this guy was certainly full of surprises.

moving from underneath her, he picked up the bag and stuffed the items back into it. her brows furrowed in question, and she sluggishly pulled herself back to her feet. mm, well, most people choose to help me because i'm hot. it's precisely why i make an amazing bank robber. she cooed, her lips pursing up as she looked over his face, trailing her eyes over him as he started to jog away. she didn't take long to catch up to him, and was soon jogging alongside him, casting a glance over her shoulder towards the rocks that they'd just climbed over, before she shot him a look. where are we going? she hesitated to ask as they started into the jungle. she still could hardly believe that this strikingly goodlooking guy was actually assisting in her, considering what he was, and what he did for a living. a part of her knew he wasn't about to tell her where he was taking her, or what his intentions were going to be. that said, she wouldn't have really minded much, especially if it was him giving it to her. she'd probably seen him around the camp once, maybe twice. but she'd kept as much to herself as she really could, given the time that she'd spent here.

the last seven months had seemed to go by in a blur, there hadn't been a day where she hadn't kept herself busy with something. she'd also sworn to herself that she wouldn't let anyone else get in her way when it came to making herself happy. people were going to come and go. some had died over the time, and some had pretty much disappeared. she'd managed to make a little home for herself in one of the huts, even though she may have spent eighty percent of her time either tanning, or sleeping inside. she had helped a little, down at the orchard. where she'd happily stolen some fruit for herself, while gathering some for the others. she couldn't really recall anyones name in that entire time, although a few faces stood out to her. still, they trudged through the jungle, and she was still questioning his motives.

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[marcus clarence kingston ii]

[atrb=border,0,true] marcus couldn't take a girl with wit for granted - after all, they were kind of hard to come by, and girls in general seemed to be scarce on the island. everyone had a claim on someone else, and the poor, little swede was left alone to his own devices most days. then again, he didn't really enjoy mingling with the islanders any more then he had to. everyone was constantly wanting something from him - either through a compromise of their own safety or by wanting to assert authority over the other people that they didn't have. it almost felt as if by being on the island, marcus had given up what made him fundamentally human and instead existed as a spectator, a mere wraith of what he once had been. the thought resulted in some irritation, though it was a difficult emotion to maintain as the leggy brunette straddled him. how long had it been, again? looking up at her with a slight smirk, the male attempted to hide that which made him ultimately male and it was a deep appreciation for a pretty woman. you're practically island royalty, in a criminal sort of way. propping himself up on his elbows, the male tipped his head, looking up at her with a quizzical glance - how could she not know who he was? the only guy with a gun on the island, and the only police officer to boot. though, that may have been a good thing - she may have been gorgeous, but she was still a thief, and probably would have been able to use a weapon such as the one that he possessed to better her circumstances. marcus kingston, though i'm a little surprised you haven't heard of me. flashing her a straight-toothed grin, the male proceeded to set the backpack to rights. looking over at her with mirth in his eyes, marcus shrugged, gaze flicking to the tumble of rocks in the distance with a thin lipped expression. you know, if we were back on mainland, i'd be obliged to report you. grinning at her, however, the male continued on his way, his laugh hushed by the crash of the waves on the shore - but i'm bored, and you are terribly good looking. i'll admit that much. shaking his head as they continued their flight to the jungle, the male didn't respond for a long moment, instead simply reaching into her backpack and retrieving a bottle of water with a small wink her general direction. my hut - it's on the outskirts, and i doubt anyone would look for you there. really, he didn't want to have to punish her. island sanctions were extremely backwards - it wasn't like he could dump her into a cell overnight and give her a fine the next day. no, here the punishment was depriving an individual from contact with the others, or allowing them to starve for the amount of days that calculated to the severity of their offence. handing the backpack over to her, after having extracted the knife that she had stolen, he spoke again, so where did you get all of this stuff from? eyeing the blade in the weak jungle light, he whistled, noticing how well looked after it was. glancing at her again, marcus made the snap decision to keep the knife for the time being, simply swinging it by the hilt as he led the way back to his hut. despite the fact that the jungle wasn't all that familiar yet, he knew the way back to his hut with some confidence. afterall, it was the place where he spent most of his time, and he had built it with his own sweat, blood and tears. less of the latter, seeing as he was too much of a man to admit that at times the island frustrated him to the point of true despair. as they drew closer to the clearing that he had selected for his temporary home, marcus slowed to walk beside aria, looking down at her once again. so how's island life suiting you? not enough things to steal to soothe your kleptomania? though he didn't know wether she enjoyed thieving that much, he assumed that most criminals did. there had to be a rush in committing illegal acts that got individuals risking their skins time and time again. then again, her goals had obviously been bigger on the mainland - here, she was restricted to merely stealing fruit like a starved bird. but you don't want anyone

[aria sienna prescott]

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she probably should have heard of him, seeing as he seemed to be the only guy on the island with a gun, and a uniform. how hadn't she heard of him? it wasn't as though he wasn't attractive, and she was sure he knew just how good looking he was. he seemed to breath confidence, and with every step that they took into the jungle, there was no doubt in her mind that he was the type of guy who usually got exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. he didn't shy around girls, he held his head high, and his voice came out as fierce and strong as ever. then the compliments that would pass through his thin, but still delicious lips. he knew how to handle a woman. she figured that out right away. it wasn't as though she'd ever had problems with men before, they'd usually been easy to wrangle in, usually she'd get exactly what she wanted from them. men were easy for her to work out, it was like second nature for her to be able to pick up on behavioral mannerisms, she could tell what they wanted by the look in their eyes, or the tone of their voice - she knew already, that this man was finding it hard to get his mind off of her. the passive glances in her direction, and the cocky smirk that would slide over his lips after he spoke. the chemistry was there, lingering between their loins, and the distance that grew between them in those moments - the tension in the air was electrifying. they may have just met, but this certainly was not going to be the last she saw of marcus kingston.

he was right about her as well, she was practically island royalty. she knew that as much as the next person. her face had made it onto television screens for months, as people tried to capture the black widow - at least, that was the nickname they'd attached to her after she'd managed to rob a few banks and get away with it as though it was nothing. all the while, she was living in the lap of luxury, enjoying the time as she could, disguising herself as she saw it fit, and using alternate identities to get away with what she could. there were several bank accounts set up in different corporations containing the funds that she'd managed to gather over the years. they were growing in interest every single month, and she knew if she was ever going to get away from this place, she could easily disappear without a trace, and be able to live content, and happily without a care in the world. that was, as long as she didn't get caught in the mean time. if anyone was going to capture her back on the mainland, she now figured it would now be marcus. if we were back on the mainland, marcus, you'd have never even had this encounter. she replied carelessly, her eyes shifting across to watch him as she walked, stepping over the underbrush of the bush that surrounded them. and if you weren't bored? what would you do? handcuff me to your bed and make me your sex slave? her voice came out in a purr of delight, and her eyes flashed desire as she let her gaze travel over his tall frame. but that would be too easy. she added lightly, a small smile curling her plump lips.

the knife in his hand was sharp, and well looked after, and her eyes darted from it to him a moment. they have a collection of things in one of the huts on the beach, i thought you'd have known that she reached to untie her hair, running her fingers through the long strands as she walked with him. you'd be surprised at what that hut contains, and the weapons they have in there. watching him tuck the knife away, her brow wrinkled in annoyance. guess they don't trust the police as much as you'd like them too, else you'd know all about it.

she kept looking over her shoulder, still wondering if they were being followed - despite the only sounds that stood out to her, were their footsteps on the dry ground beneath their feet. the tip of her pink tongue slid lightly over her lips as he slowed to walk beside her. she reached for one of the bottles, and tipped it to her lips as she observed the area around them. i'm not a kleptomaniac. she replied simply, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. i fell into some debt, with the wrong sort of people. i did what i had to to survive. her voice was dry as she slid the bottle back into the front pouch of the bag, and wiped her hand over her mouth. you'd do the same if your life was on the line reaching forward, she pushed a low hanging branch out of her face, and ducked under it as they walked. the issue was, she wasn't like most criminals, she may have committed a crime, but her life had been on the line - and she'd only continued it to build her life back up again. there was something addicting about it, the thrill that she got when she managed to get away was amazing, but having to watch your step, always being on the run - it ended up exhausting. he would never understand, for he had it all easy.

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