Port and Refill (Part 12 - 13th October, 2015)

I let out my breath in an irritated huff, while trying to keep my arms crossed over my breasts. It's not enough that I have to be stranded, naked, on an isolated deserted island with no food or water. It's not enough that I know I'm going to die here shortly from dehydration and exposure. But did he really have to strand me with her?

I'm petite, brown-eyed and brunette. I don't have a lot going on up top, although I like to think what I do have I show off well. At 35 I'm still not sagging anywhere, but it takes a lot more work than it used to. Still, I've never deluded myself to being more than pretty or cute - I'll never be beautiful.

My companion, though? She's nearly six feet of All-American, busty, blue-eyed blonde model looks, and from what I can tell is just out of college. Her southern twang grated on my ears, although if I'm being truthful it's not that she sounded bad. I just disliked her whole redneck, patriotic gung ho thing, and her accent reminded me of it. I did have two things that comforted me, though. The first is that she's even more awkward being nude than I am. One arm was fighting a losing battle to contain her breasts. And the other was between her legs - a sizable erection that started up as soon as she saw me, that she's covering gamely with her other hand. It amused me to see her beauty contrasted with a very male attribute. I wasn't worried about her trying to force herself on me, of course - she's too goody-two shoes to try, and even if she did I'd just drown her. So I can afford to chuckle.

But her stare brought me back to the question at hand. I could feel the old anger rising at her assumption, and I could think of several ways to take her down to size verbally. But as I opened my mouth, the depression kicked in. We're going to die here, after all. What would be the point in fighting? So with some effort, I kept my voice even. "I'm a villain. Why would you believe anything I say in the first place?" I met her gaze. "Just stay over here, and I'll go over there. And we can live out the rest of our very short lives without bothering each other." My voice caught at the end, and I hated myself for showing weakness.

Conversation over, I ported myself to the other end of the island, sat down in the sand, and cried silent tears.

* * *

The sun was starting to set when I felt her approach. I debated porting around to avoid her, but it's not a very big island, and there's no cover. If she annoyed me too much, I'd just put her out at sea a mile or so. I'm sure she'd be able to swim back. And it's hard to make myself care. I felt hollowed out emotionally, and caring would take more effort than I had. And I could just feel the slight edge of hunger and thirst starting, reminding me of our eventual fate, sapping my willpower further.

She sat down carefully a good fifteen feet away. I felt her open her mouth to speak, but I got in first, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. "If you piss me off, I'm going to put you in the ocean."

I expected her to get mad, to lash out at me. But she surprised me. "I don't always think my words through. Got me in trouble a lot as a kid. But I can see how what I said before might have been taken the wrong way." She turned her head to me and gave me a nod. "If you're here, I figure I owe you enough to listen. If you want to talk."

I closed my eyes and sat back. Did I want to talk? Not really. But it was better than sitting here and thinking about dying of thirst, so I made myself speak. "I'm a thief. I break the law. And I get that that makes me a villain. But I've spent 20 years getting lumped in with psychos like Switch and Dr. Face, and it just makes me tired." I turned to look at her, but her face gave me nothing - no expression - so I continued. "I've never killed anyone. I've never really hurt anyone, unless you could the occasional bump and bruise to an overzealous security guard. So what makes you think I'd have anything to do with the Professor's scheme to take over the world?" I sat forward, absently dragging my fingers through the sand. "Even if he loses, he's going to kill thousands of people. That's nothing I want to be part of. I'm here because I turned him down, and he wanted me out of the way. And because killing me outright would be immoral." I snarled the last word, my frustration at the situation boiling through. It was a struggle to calm myself. "Sorry. I just... shit. I don't know."

She didn't speak for a few minutes. The light was starting to fade, and I could mostly just see her silhouette. But I could see her nod, decisive and assured. "I believe you."

I shocked myself by flushing and feeling pleased, and immediately felt stupid. Was I seriously happy just

... more on the forums ...