[center][color=green][h3]Imogen Reed[/h3][/color][/center]

With most of the fight gone from her just from the realization of how badly she’d screwed up, Imogen wanted to sink into the sand, her hope drained away like rain in the desert. She’d reached a dead end with no way out, and there was nothing she could think of to do to solve any of the problems that hounded her. Ever since she came to that fateful conclusion, she had strived to live each day in caution, temperance, and control, avoiding anything that could cause conflict or bring any sort of misfortune down upon her head. Never good, never bad, just ‘fine’. Reaching out for high notes just hadn’t been worth the possibility of hitting the lows. What good could she possibly have found out there, after all? But now misery had befallen her regardless. Maybe it was karma, built up over the course of years to come crashing down. The wolves that once snapped at her heels had fallen so far into the background that she stopped running, and now they caught up with her. Despite doing her very best for so long, little as that might be, Imogen was going to die here, more disliked and alone than ever.

As she sat there in the sand, her face in her hands, Sofia approached her. Her apology and excuse weren’t airtight, but Imogen didn’t have the energy to snap at her anymore. Besides, weren’t the two of them just the same, in a way? Imogen also lashed out in an unconstructive manner, after all, and far more vehemently too, only to unintentionally -but understandably- make others feel bad. That said, was Sofia still to blame for all this, and justifiably so? Absolutely. But Imogen knew she’d been a jerk. The embarrassment stung her even more acutely than the still-hard-to-process realization that she’d somehow appeared on a deserted island. Maybe. Either way, the fact remained that she’d broken character, and in a rather dramatic fashion too. There had been a lot more pressure behind that damn than she realized, and it burst with such power that she didn’t know if she could put it back together again, at least not in the same way. But was there any point to picking up the pieces she’d held together for so long? If she was going to die anyway, didn’t she deserve to be herself for once?

Of course, her real self wasn’t an asshole. At least, Imogen hoped it wasn’t. Outspoken and impulsive, maybe. She wanted to be someone who meant what she said and said what she meant. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone, not really. Even if it helped in the moment, she wouldn’t feel any better in the long run, and considering how she felt right now, ‘long’ was probably an overstatement. She knew she needed to make amends, and so what if it hurt her pride? Not like she should have any pride to hurt in the first place.

Imogen rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got shakily to her feet. She turned to see Maive, still a blubbering mess, but now locked in a powerful heartfelt embrace with Sofia. Imogen blinked, her brows upturned. Was Maive looking for some sort of support or stability, no matter the source? Was she thankful that Sofia got them into this mess for some bizarre reason? Could this be the startup of an elaborate wrestling move? Or was it…forgiveness?

All of a sudden Imogen found her contemplation time at an end as Maive turned her way, extended a hand to shake. Imogen almost recoiled from the proffered limb on instinct. If Maive meant to forgive her too, Imogen really didn’t deserve it. She’d made quite the uproar taking out her frustrations and couldn’t reasonably blame anyone if they communally decided to shut or out, or band together and chuck her in the ocean. Her cheeks reddened with the embarrassment of guilt, and for a moment she hung her head. If Maive meant it, though, Imogen owed it to her to accept. Though a small girl, Maive had chosen to be the bigger man. That took more guts than anything Imogen could remember doing. She pushed up her glasses, took a few steps forward, and shook Maive by the hand, secretly glad that it -and its owner- weren’t as snotty as they could’ve been about this. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice small.

Beyond this, she couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to do. Might as well follow along with the others. If they left to find Team Coconuts, she’d trail along, smoldering quietly.