By the time the sun began to rise, marking their second day on the island, Craig had all but finished his structure. He had worked through the night, by the light of the fire and the stars and moon. It was fairly simple, four legs holding up a rectangle, strengthened by support beams at a forty degree angle to form triangles. He'd held everything into place by chipping notches with a sharp stone, and wrapping every joint with copious amounts of vines. It stood several feet high, and periodically through the night, Craig had hung himself off it to see if it supported his weight on each side.
He was rather pleased to see that it did, and would likely hold more. The next step was to tie some more branches on the roof of the thing, giving palm leaves a platform to rest on. After that, he'd strap them down with more vines, and weigh it down with rocks to keep it from blowing away in the wind.
Despite his hands beginning to blister, the weight of exhaustion from the events of the day before and not sleeping in the night, Craig couldn't help but feel the pride. He'd done this himself, as he preferred. In the middle of the night while they all slept. So far, it was strong and sturdy. Craig was pleased. Really pleased.
As the sun moved up past the horizon, Craig fished trough the goth kid's backpack and stole another smoke before he sat himself on a rock and picked up a brown coconut, digging two of the eyes out with a pair of tweezers Bebe had. He pressed his lips to it, the earthy taste of the husk not bothering him once the flavor of the coconut helped to quench his thirst. With a bit of rum, Craig couldn't help but think he'd be fairly happy in this moment. Hell, even without it, Craig felt himself at a strange place. Calm. Content. Proud. Everyone was quiet, no one was pissing him off. Tweek was asleep, hopefully not worrying about a thing in his dreams. No one was dead, everyone was fairly okay. All in all, there wasn't much to complain about. Odd, as he could complain about anything.
Craig supposed that he could find all sorts of things, really. But the bitching and moaning could wait until later. For now, Craig lit up the pilfered cigarette, and he was happy to enjoy his smoke, a stupid little coconut, and look at his hard work and the sunrise.
Halfway through his smoke, he heard a groan from the raft, followed by a mutter of curse words. Craig turned, watching as their captain carefully pulled himself up and over the inflated walls, stumbling and falling to his knees on the sand. Craig couldn't help but chuckle, watching as the man acted like a foal that'd just been born as he got to his feet. At some point in the night, Stan had removed his uniform. The heat and the humidity must have made it uncomfortable to sleep.
His chest was black and blue with a large bruise, fading into an oil slick of colors towards the edge of it. Aside from that, Craig couldn't help but notice the muscles under the bruised skin. The man's uniform did nothing for him. Hid the strength in his arms and torso. Hell, his thighs and calves looked double the size of Craig's own, all muscle. Did flying make you buff or did the guy hit the gym?
"What?" Stan asked, voice distorted by a yawn as he caught Craig staring. He felt his cheeks burn. "You look like shit," Craig said, shrugging to cover his tracks. He wasn't wrong. Stan did look like shit, just not in the 'you're unattractive' way. Stan looked down, taking a few wobbly steps toward Craig. "Oh, shit," he said, voice slightly slurred from sleep. Craig couldn't help but get a closer look, Stan to distracted by himself to notice.
Stan didn't hit six feet, Craig guessed he was just shy of it. The pilot was nearly all muscle, reminding Craig of college footballers. Craig himself was a large guy, but not in the way Stan was. He was tall, six foot six. Craig's legs made up most of it. Nearly every Halloween he'd be roped into some Tim Burton costume because of it.
Craig was snapped from the memory of getting into a drunken fight with his friend Clyde the year they'd done a Nightmare Before Christmas group costume for Bebe's Halloween party. "Beautiful sunrise," Stan said and Craig shook his head to bring himself back to reality. "Huh?" he said, stupidly. Stan laughed, easing himself down onto the sand beside Craig. "I said it's a beautiful sunrise," the shorter one replied, before poking Craig in the leg.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Stan asked, and Craig shrugged, stubbing out the choke in the sand. "Thinking about how our friend Clyde kicked my ass three years ago, dressed as Oogie Boogie," Craig answered. At Stan's confused look, he elaborated. "We had a group theme at this Halloween party Bebe threw, Nightmare Before Christmas. I was stuck as Jack. I don't even remember what we were fighting about." Hell, Craig didn't even know if he'd see Clyde again. Aside from Tweek, the guy was his best friend. His first kiss, since Clyde had wanted to see if boys were his thing. They weren't. He'd been a lady killer ever since. Craig missed him, more than he'd ever though he'd miss the fucking idiot.
Stan must've seen something on his face, because he didn't elaborate further. "I take it you did all that, then? Did you even go to bed?"
Craig shook his head, offering the last bit of coconut juice to Stan. "Nah. No point in trying. Wouldn't have slept anyway. What about you? Sleep okay?" Craig found it off he cared enough to ask Stan, but he also found himself not caring that he did.
"It was alright, got a couple hours I think. Cartman snores. And Butters talks in his sleep, apparently. Kept singing something about apples and loo loo loo."
"Lu lu lu, I've got some apples. Lu lu lu, you've got some too?" Craig asked, and Stan looked at him with wide eyes, nodding. Craig chuckled. "The next line is about making apple sauce and taking off your clothes. He sings it all the time, none of us know why. Butters is nuts."
Stan laughed, shaking his head. He rubbed at his face again, and Craig watched his tongue run against his teeth. "I wish I had a tooth brush," he said, and Craig couldn't help but agree.
As the day went by, Craig had finished his structure with the help of Wendy, the smallest person on the island being the optimal person to climb on top. Craig had given her a boost, handing her the palms to weave in and out of one another. It took them several hours, making a little small talk as Craig tied down leaves and weights. Mostly he was concerned with talking to Tweek, who stayed by his side the entire time. He offered no help, and Wendy knew well enough that Craig would deny it anyway. While she and Craig weren't close, only a fool couldn't see the love between them. Even if they were no longer together. Wendy was slightly envious watching them, watching as Craig swapped from a sunken faced, miserable looking guy to someone a lot softer. She loved Bebe with all her heart, and knew Bebe did as well. But the love for Tweek that Craig had was different, and Wendy didn't understand it. It also wasn't her place to ask, but oh did she want to.
"We could probably use one more layer," Wendy said, sometime later when they were mostly finished. "But it can wait. Wouldn't be half a bad idea to do some around the sides, as well. Keep some wind out, offer a bit more shade and protection from the rain." Craig nodded in agreement, grunting a little as he tied off his last vine in the center. "We'll get the others to grab some later. Most everyone's gone off to find stuff." While Wendy stayed behind with Tweek and Craig, the others had devided themselves up into groups. On a bit of an excursion, Filmore and Firkle had found a large, dirty plastic bottle washed up in the small alcove where Wendy and Bebe had found their netting. They'd opted to go with Kyle and Ike to gather some water from the pond he and Kenny had found the night before. With Butters, Captain Marsh and Kenny went to find more of the fruits that Bebe had Butters test the day before. He'd said it'd been sweet, similar to a mango. He hadn't died, or gotten sick, and it seemed like a safe bet. That left Bebe and Cartman, who had both decided to take a shot at fishing with the little rod Bebe had made the day before.
Only, when Wendy had looked over to check on them, they'd been goofing off, splashing around in the ocean in their underpants. She took a glance again, Craig following her gaze. Sure enough, Bebe was jumping around, pink underclothes nearly see through from being wet. Eric didn't do much besides stare, occasionally say something that had he and Bebe giggling like grade schoolers. Wendy rolled her eyes. "She's loving his attention," Craig commented, pulling himself up and onto the top of the structure. It barely moved, even with their combined weight.
"Of course she is, he's a Clyde replacement," Wendy laughed. He was really the only one who'd comment on Bebe's appearance, make lewd jokes about her breasts, her ass, everything. Bebe loved it, but only because she knew Clyde wasn't a threat. But Clyde wasn't here. Eric Cartman was apparently the next best thing, appreciating her body and all the hard work Bebe did to maintain it. "Does it bother you, ever?" Craig asked, and Wendy shook her head. "Not really. It's not like Bebe would do anything." As flirty and vivacious as she was, Wendy's girlfriend was as lesbian as they came. She'd used boys for shoes, for compliments, for anything she needed but she loved her ladies. It was Wendy who fell in the middle of the queer spectrum, where Bebe was at the end of it.
"She's a bit wary of our Captain, though. According to her, he was checking me out. Which I doubt, since he seems to have eyes for Kenny." Wendy had to bite back a smirk at the slight change in facial expression on Craig at that comment, and Wendy stored it away for future gossip use. Did their Craig have a little bit of a crush, she wondered. Stan Marsh was cute enough, soft face, kind eyes. Strong. If she didn't have Bebe, he'd be an ideal candidate and perhaps she'd go after him herself. Not sure how he swung, though. "You're pretty," Craig said, his voice stating a fact and indicating nothing else. Wendy figured it was true. She was no Bebe, but she was confident in herself enough to know she wasn't a hag. Her girlfriend was the token leggy blonde, a busty bombshell while Wendy considered herself more of the girl next door type. Craig's comment did give her a little sense of pride, though. "Thanks, Craig," she smiled. It wasn't like he said things like that often, and even though she knew a man's opinion on her appearance should mean nothing, it still made her feel a little good that their angry little gay Craig said she was pretty.
Their heads snapped back to the ocean at a scream, Wendy's heart instantly dropping at the sound. But she was relieved to see it wasn't one of distress, but of glee. Bebe held up a fairly large sized fish, bouncing about, breasts moving with her. "I got one!" Bebe screamed, jiggling before she flung herself at Cartman for a hug, his face squished between her boobs. Eric seemed to be in heaven, holding out his shirt bag for her once she pulled away, and Bebe dropped the fish in after struggling to remove her earring from it. Even from here, Wendy could see the look of disgust on her face as she touched it.
The day was a productive one. The hunger and thirst had motivated everyone to work together, not strong enough to keep them from doing anything at all. Kyle, Ike, Firkle and Filmore returned with the jug of water filled, along with a few bottles that had been in people's bags and Bebe's purse. They'd also come with several green coconuts, and more palm leaves. Kyle had figured they could use them, and it was no trouble to bring them back. As for the gathering crew, Stan, Kenny and Butters came back to camp with two shirt-bags filled with coconuts and fruits, and Butters also carried a handful of bird eggs. And in one of the sacks, the bird they must have belonged too.
"Butters bludgeoned it with a rock," Kenny explained, Stan's face void of colour. Butters was proud of himself, but Kyle couldn't help but notice the look on Stan's face. He'd toyed with the idea of being a vegetarian when they were in school, and Kyle wondered if he was still on that diet. Stan had always been sensitive when it came to animal welfare, though. Watching someone bash a bird in with a rock wasn't Stan's idea of a good time, Kyle knew that. Even he was a bit disturbed at the idea, but it was food. A bit of meat, for everyone. Kyle gave Stan a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder when Butters pulled it out by the legs, proudly showing off his kill. Stan looked as if he wanted to cry, and it made Kyle's heart hurt for him and the poor gull.
Shortly after their return, Bebe and Cartman came up from the water, Eric's shirt moving on its own, and they both held it open to show the group. "Look what we got!" Bebe exclaimed, and they all peered into the First Officer's shirt. Several fish, and a plethora of shell fish. There were a few crabs and snails climbing up the sides of it. "How're we gonna gut them, though?" Kenny asked, and Ike appeared beside him, offering up what looked like a box cutter. Kenny stared down at the young man, and all of them looked a little perplexed.
"Why do you have that?" Kenny asked, but took it from him all the same. Ike's eyes shifted to Firkle, occupying himself by the fire. Everyone seemed to get it, and spoke of it no more. They all offered their thanks, and went to the fire to sort their spoils.
"We won't be able to eat all of this at once," Bebe said, looking at it all. "We should net some of the fish and keep it in the water to keep them alive." Taking Wendy's hand and some of the still flopping fish, she went to the waters edge, plopping the bag in to give the fish another breath of life. Kyle couldn't help but agree. They had the bird, two fish, a bunch of shell fish. There was the fruit as well as the coconuts that they'd been cracking open on a sharp rock propped up under the root of a tree. Looking around, Kyle wondered just who'd do the dirty work for all of this. The muscles wouldn't be hard. They could pry them open and eat them straight, really. But the bird and the fish needed to be plucked and gutted. "Who wants to do these?" Kyle asked, and no one said anything. "Okay, well someone has to help me, because I'm not doing all the work on my own," he snapped, the idea of food being so close yet far away starting to aggravate him.
"I'll help," Eric said, reaching over to pick up the bird before starting to yank the feathers out. It was a violent act, and beside him, Kyle heard Stan gag. "S'cuse me," he muttered, before darting to the edge of the forest to throw up in a bush. Taking the box cutter and the fish, Kyle motioned for Cartman to follow him to the waters edge, several feet away from Bebe. "Still sensitive about that stuff, I guess," Kyle said, picking a spot with a flat rock to be their cutting board. The first officer nodded, a small chuckle. "He's vegan. What a little pussy. He's gonna starve to death if he doesn't get over it." Kyle agreed. About the starving to death bit, not that Stan was a pussy. He glared at Eric, though, not going to say so.
Taking a rock, Kyle smacked it against the one they were using to break it into a sharp angle. The piece that broke off flung forward, hitting Cartman between the eyes. He let out a loud curse, smacking a splash of water at Kyle. The redhead couldn't help but laugh, the red mark already forming on Eric's forehead. He dropped the fist to the rock, covering his mouth with his hands as he tried to hide his giggles. "I'm sorry," he said, not really meaning it. Eric glared at him, and Kyle tried to bite back the smile on his mouth as he resumed the task of descaling the fish. "Fuck you, Jew boy," he said, tossing a handful of feathers at Kyle. Only it didn't work, blowing back into Cartman's face and sticking to wherever there was water. He rinsed his hands off in the ocean, then wiped at his face to remove them.
He missed one, and Kyle pointed it out. Cartman still didn't get it. "Stop, stop," Kyle laughed, leaning forward to pluck it off the corner of his mouth. His hand lingered much longer than it should have, both of them staring at each other. Only when Kyle realized it was much longer than a couple seconds did he yank his hand back. "Sorry," he muttered, focusing his energy on scraping at the fish. He absolutely did not need to be looking at Stan's first officer as anything but that, his first officer. Besides, he was a dick. He used slurs freely, oogled Bebe like she was some piece of meat. He seemed like a fuckhead. Kyle glanced up, looking at Cartman through his lashes to see what he was doing. He'd removed most of the feathers, plucking off the last few. He was attractive, Kyle couldn't help but think. A strong jaw, light brown hair, brown eyes. No, not quite brown. Kyle'd say they were more of a hazel. It was interesting, Kyle thought. Eric was the only brunet on the island. How odd was that? Kyle was the only redhead, but that was to be expected almost everywhere. Brown was common, but apparently here, Eric Cartman wasn't.
Being an asshole aside, Kyle figured there wasn't much of a harm in looking at him. If Eric could drool over Bebe, why couldn't he get a bit of enjoyment at finding Eric Cartman attractive?
"Pass me that, would you?" Eric asked, and brought Kyle from his thoughts. He handed over the box cutter, watching as Eric slapped the bird onto the rock, and slit straight up the belly of the bird. Kyle winced, watching as Eric just... stuck his hands in. "Ugh," he said, watching as Eric ripped the guts out. "Bebe!" he called out, holding up a bloody hand. "Got you some bait!" He sat it down on the rock, fingers scraping out any of the innards he left behind before dunking it in the water. Eric washed out blood, pulling out a fairly clean and somewhat appetizing looking bird. While Kyle was thoroughly grossed out, he was also rather impressed. "You seemed a bit too good at that," he commented, and Eric smiled. Kyle cursed him for doing so. He didn't need more encouragement. "I used to hunt with one of my moms old boyfriends a when I was in my teens," he said, picking up one of Kyle's descaled fish, and scooting over to sit beside him. "Watch," he said, washing the fish of any scales in the water before slicing it from the back of the head down to the top of the tail. He handed Kyle the blade for him to do the same, and Kyle did so, watching next as Eric used the scaling rock to peel up the skin and pull it off.
"This is disgusting," Kyle said, following Cartman's movements. The other man just laughed. "Yeah, I know. But food is food." Kyle was gonna make a jab about Eric seemingly loving food, but he kept his mouth shut, given that Cartman reached over to grab the box cutter as Kyle peeled the skin off his fish. He wasn't keen on getting stabbed, and probably eaten or something. Eric had gotten both of his sides done, washing his fish again as Kyle did the same to the other side of his own. "Alright," he said when he was finished. "What next?"
Cartman slit the fish in a fluid motion, from head to anus and passed the blade over. "It's pretty easy. Just reach in and grab the entrails," he said, undaunted by touching it with his bare hands. Kyle sympathized with Stan, really not wanting to do this part himself. But Eric was watching him, and Kyle felt challenged. Swallowing, he slit through the fish, dropping the cutter to the rock before going in. It was so gross. Kyle could feel himself begin to gag, but he pushed forward. He wasn't going to be a weak bitch, not in front of Eric Cartman. He did this so smoothly. Kyle was going to do the same if it killed him. He dropped the intestines and other nasty things to the rock. Kyle quickly washed his hands of the fish of any remains, and instantly felt better. And proud of himself. Kyle held it up, pleased with himself. They had three more left to go, but it was a start.