-Shipwrecked- (Sci-fi, open)

[Jeydon]

Sitting out in the moors, where he could have commonly bee n found recently, Icarus had found himself pondering the crew's mental wellbeing. As much as he refused to admit, deep within him Icarus knew that his psychological state wasn't the healthiest at the moment. As for the rest of the crew, Icarus was rather concerned. Thus far, they hadn't seemed to have done much to counter their situation; minor damage control had taken place, yes, but besides that the crew seemed rather hopeless and lethargic. Reinen was out of the picture, Rikimaru seemed to be constantly thinking, the rest of the crew... Icarus had to admit he'd been a bit too preoccupied with thought himself to pay much attention to them. Although, given their situation, it was hard to blame them too much, it bothered Icarus that nothing was being done immediately. Did they all want to starve, or be viciously ripped to shreds by some alien creature on this planet? Naturally a rather paranoid man, Icarus was only made more restless by the crew's apathy, and it certainly had begun to show in his external presentation. With a sigh, the doctor stood, forcefully drawing himself away from his thoughts, and headed back through the field, towards the crew's makeshift camp. Approaching the shelter, Icarus scanned the camp for any signs of Rikimaru. Seeing none, Icarus assumed the second in command was in the shelter, as he arrived at the entrance, pausing just outside.

[Jeydon]

Icarus stood at the entrance of the shelter for quite some time, for some reason frozen in the doorway. The shadows within the shelter obscured what may have been inside, blocking such a sight from his view. Finally, Icarus turned away.
As he wandered about the temporary camp, Icarus found himself lost. It was quite rare, though at that moment, he didn't know what to do. It was not in a state of panic, nor fear, nor sheer incompetence - even incompetence the rather arrogant man would have preferred to this. This was a state of despair. Of hopelessness. And, underlying this lethargic hopelessness was an overwhelming sense of regret and doubt. If Icarus were to pinpoint his worst fears, their roots would be in those two feelings.
What was he doing here? Why the hell had he ever signed up for this?
Because you gave up.
The answer came to Icarus quickly, hitting him with quite an impact.
You gave up. You screwed up, and instead of waiting, with patience and hope that you could be resilient just a while longer, you took the first out you got. You cut the corners, and you ended up here.
Deep within himself, Icarus knew he was right. And for once, being right was a bad thing. Slowly, this realization surfaced, until it enveloped Icarus' thoughts. Such doubt, regret, and such a raw sense of failure was quite unfamiliar to the man. Any insecurities he had ever had he'd swiftly pushed to the back of his mind, hiding them with a mask of confidence to the point of arrogance. Now, though, those insecurities rose. Panic set in.
He had failed. Icarus Fverilin had failed, failed the person who he had always strived the most to impress - himself.