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Post by "not" june on Feb 23, 2017 0:35:51 GMT -5
This is a semi-lit/literate jump in rp! In short, our characters are stranded on an island after their plane crashed, and we rp them trying to survive! We can further the roleplay with more plotpoints as it goes on as well!
I may turn it into an ~actual rp~ if it gains traction, but for now just feel free to give me your characters names and you can start! One of the few things I ask is to write at least a paragraph (five good sentences), though 2-3 should be the norm, especially for multiple characters. This isn't too strict though, we just want relatively strong writing, so don't worry too much about length or meeting a ""criteria"" as long as it's decent writing!
Another issue is, no children/teens characters please. If you do wish to rp one, feel free to PM me and ask, but this rule is basically for the sake of this rp not being overrun by a bunch of minors who survived a plane crash lol.
Also please be realistic! Your character isn't going to know how to survive in every way possible right off the bat, part of the fun is combining our characters' skillsets to help them survive, having them disagree on occasions, and etc.
Characters
"not" june - Agnes . Wilhelm . Kamar .
Gojira - Ash . Isaac . Logan .
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 23, 2017 0:45:05 GMT -5
(( [performs a song and dance] come rp with us itll be fun ))
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Post by alfred on Feb 23, 2017 0:51:02 GMT -5
( so, i haven't seen the show in forever and I never did finish it. still, though, i really liked the premise and don't mind spoilers as much if you guys get further along into the show and want to start incorporating future details. so, i'm down if you are. cx
i've Lewis, Nick, and Grace as characters. )
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 23, 2017 1:42:03 GMT -5
(( Welcome aboard! ))
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Post by "not" june on Feb 23, 2017 1:44:05 GMT -5
@automatonq hey! i'm going to poof for a sec but we can start in an hour or so if that works for you ?
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Post by alfred on Feb 23, 2017 1:48:36 GMT -5
( Thanks! I've actually got to go soon. xp It's going on 2 in the morning. I'll be back tomorrow sometime, though! I can have a starter up then if that's fine. )
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Post by "not" june on Feb 23, 2017 1:52:03 GMT -5
that's perfect! i forget im on west coast time so no worries lol ))
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Post by "not" june on Feb 23, 2017 2:54:06 GMT -5
Kamar gasped for air as she came to, her body pricking with shock, as if her skin too was just arising to consciousness. For a split second it was hard to tell if her vision was gone or if the sun was bright enough to momentarily blind her; as she came to however, the young woman became starkly aware she was splayed out in ankle-deep salt water, her muscles burning alongside a cut across her nose.
What she became aware of next was screaming, and people running desperately across the beach nearest to her. Kamar lifted herself to her feet, her wobbly legs feeling as though they had weighs on them dragging her down. Where was she? Where was she? I was on a plane. I was on a plane. That plane was now at an awkward angle on the shore, half of it missing and the present bits in shambles. She squinted her eyes, for a second in disbelief that any of them had managed to survive at all.
"Hey! Hey! What's going on!?" Kamar demanded, now pushing through the crowd to try and find someone who had even the smallest idea of what had happened.
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Post by "not" june on Feb 23, 2017 3:04:33 GMT -5
Wilhelm was situated in the back of the plane (not that there was a "front" exactly anymore), pressed to the floor and surrounded by what appeared to be bodies. He didn't have a considerable amount of experience with dead people, but upon raising his head to come eye-to-eye with a guy whose neck was split open, blood and veins all spilling out of him, he could say he now was practically an expert. "Christ-" he mumbled, scrambling backward with eyes as round as dinner plates.
Will's head smacked against the wall of the plane, for which seemed to be enough to lift him back to the present. Upon running his gaze across the vehicle, he could briefly note that there were even more grotesque bodies hanging from cushioned seats, strewn across the floor, and at every awkward angle imaginable. He was caught in a considerable daze, not seeming to realize how dangerous curled up within half a plane was, though what froze him was most certainly fright; he felt, genuinely, that he couldn't move his limbs if he tried to. Wilhelm could usually act quickly when it came to situations at hand (arguably too quickly, brashly even), though this particular one had thrown him for a terrifying loop.
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 23, 2017 4:26:51 GMT -5
Everything sounded like it was underwater. Isaac wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but it didn't take him long to realize that the reason why the sounds of the wreckage groaning and people screaming sounded like it was buried under a thick layer of... something was because he was drowning. Immediately upon realizing this he snapped out of the daze he had been in, and started thrashing around in the turbulent water. It was a struggle to get to the surface, but he managed to do it. His lungs stung and he had gotten a good amount of water up his nose, but that was far in the back of his mind when he put two and two together and realized that the plane he had fallen asleep on earlier had crashed and fallen to bits in the middle of who knows where, he had a terrible cut on his arm that was quickly turning the water around him crimson, and people were likely very, very dead.
He was half swimming, half dog-paddling to the beach where the survivors seemed to be (he was still too dizzy to really tell left from right at this point) when a great hunk of metal siding from the tail of the plane came crashing into the water mere feet away from him. The resulting tidal wave crashed over his head, shoving him under the surface again. This time, he couldn't seem to fight his way back up. Occasionally his head would pop up out of the water for a moment that was only long enough to yell something (in the hopes one of the frantic survivors would notice) before water filled his mouth and he was pushed down yet again.
"Leave it to me to survive a plane crash but then drown," was the only thought he seemed to be capable of thinking.
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 23, 2017 4:36:49 GMT -5
Ash had been knocked out cold for what had seemed like hours, but in reality had been mere minutes. His eyed flew open and he was immediately taking in his surroundings, although it took him a minute to register what exactly had happened. His head was pounding and when he brushed his hand against his deep red hair, he could feel the warm and sticky sensation of blood. He shook his head (which has the opposite effect he had been hoping for and only made the pounding worse) before unbuckling his seat belt and shakily rising to his feet. Thank god he always listened to that stupid "the captain has turned on the fasten seat belts sign" alert, and for once he counted his lucky stars that he had been in the very back of the plane. He glanced around, frowning at the sight of the mangled corpses strewn about the cabin of the plane. Weather or not this was because the fact that there were dead bodies wasn't sinking in, or if he genuinely was unfazed remained to be seen. That was when he noticed one of them seemed to still be squirming, and he pitied whoever it was as it would surely be a slow death. He realized quickly though that this person actually seemed to be O.K. other than some cuts here and there. He took a shaky step into the plane aisle, wobbled around for a moment, and then grabbed the stranger by the arm and unceremoniously hauled him to his feet. Actually exiting the plane took longer than it should have, both because Ash probably had a concussion and because there was stray luggage and, well, dead people everywhere. He eventually did it though, and no sooner had he cleared the wreck did he collapse face first into the sand.
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 23, 2017 4:44:49 GMT -5
Logan had been one of the first to make it out of the plane, and was also one of the lucky few without any major injury. The previous few minutes had been a frantic whirl of fear and confusion, and he had spent them trying to get people to safety and taking note of who would need medical attention once they were all out of immediate danger. "Keep it together, keep it together," he thought to himself, as his eyes darted between corpses, burning bits of airplane, and screaming passengers. Luckily he had always possessed a relatively calm temperament, and presently that was the only thing keeping him from being one of the screaming passengers. Kamar caught his attention, and he scurried over to her- stumbling a little on the burning hot sand beneath his feat (he only had one shoe, god knew where the other one had gone.) "The plane crashed!" He yelled back, wondering how much of the obvious he needed to state to the poor woman. "People are... People are dead. Right now we need to get everyone else to safety before the rest of the plane either explodes or falls on them, I don't know how many are badly injured right now," he concluded hurriedly, shooting Kamar a hopeful look and praying she was competent enough to help him.
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Post by "not" june on Feb 24, 2017 4:27:46 GMT -5
Agnes was unsteady on her feet, but desperately trying to pull those tossed in the sand upward so that they could get away from the tipsy plane that had just recently made impact. Most of the survivors were dazed and only needed a good shake to be drawn back into reality, afterward going off on their own to either help more of the those stranded, or of course, scream uselessly as far away from the jet as possible.
She was unfortunate enough to grab the hand of someone who'd recently passed, having not realized their gouging face, jaw all melted off and drooping, until she'd already made contact. Agnes yelped and scrambled back, freezing in place for a brief moment as she recollected having gone from sipping tomato juice in an air-conditioned plane, to accidentally grabbing a dead person. It was in that period that she managed to hear a bit of yelling above the commotion of the plane crash, engines still roaring, but even then, it was barely louder than the screaming of those who had made it out with their lives.
Agnes squinted her eyes, swearing she could see someone bobbing their head above the ocean surface a ways away, until that suspicion became concrete. Someones' in there! She dashed to the water, her legs picking up splashes of salty ocean water as she practically dove in, realizing that whoever was in there sinking was somehow too impaired to swim on their own. She grabbed his arm and hauled him backwards, not stopping to try and be gentle as even she could barely stay on her feet against the current, much less with the added weight.
The woman slipped and dropped to her knees, exhaustion and breathlessness getting the best of her after running around getting the attention of survivors, and now fishing this one out from the water. Luckily for them, they were close enough to the shore to break the surface, even when on their knees. Agnes turned to Isaac and looked him in the eye, her own round and with a strange sort of fierce intensity to them. "Hey - are you with me?" she breathed, her blue gaze flitting to his bleeding arm for a moment.
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Post by "not" june on Feb 24, 2017 4:37:43 GMT -5
Wilhelm followed (well, half-tripped) after the stranger whilst being pulled by him, managing to catch his breath only after they'd exited the plane. He rested his hands on his knees, drawing in great gasps of air that had previously been unknowingly held; he was a bit battered, to the point of stray cuts and bruises across his skin, but none too badly compared to what some of the other survivor's had managed to face.
He flicked his head upward as the plane made teeth-grindingly loud screeching noise, the type of noise planes (even crashed ones) shouldn't typically make. Will began to hurry away from the vehicle, but stopped short as he couldn't help but to feel a bag of obnoxious guilt at the prospect of leaving the stranger (who had just saved him) lying face-first in the sand. "Christ." he hissed, spinning around last-minute to hurry by his side, and knelt down next to him with a concerned frown.
"Hey! No, no way. You gotta get up, now." Will began, trying to tug on the man's arm to assist in getting him to his feet, shooting nervous glance's up toward the plane's wing (which loomed above them) as he did so.
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 24, 2017 14:24:33 GMT -5
Isaac was gasping for air like a fish out of water when Agnes hauled him to shore (or at least, almost shore.) He coughed and sputtered for a moment in an attempt to get the large quantity of water that he had swallowed out of him. Ocean water tasted disgusting. And speaking of ocean water, the saltiness of it was presently setting the gouge on his arm on fire, and he clutched the wound tightly hoping it would somehow numb the pain. He took a few more shaky breaths, his smaller-than-average frame trembling a little from a combination of shock and fatigue. "Y-yeah," he said in reply to Agnes. "Do you know what in the name of Jesus Christ happened?"
Ash only mumbled something in response, too out of it to really form a coherent sentence. He was vaguely aware that the precariously positioned wing of the plane was making some ungodly noise, but he either didn't care or didn't realize what that meant exactly. When he felt something tugging on his arm, he rolled over to try and figure out what was causing the sensation. The sun was bright and bounced off the wreckage of the aircraft in a way that hurt his eyes when he opened them. Suddenly, however, everything hit him again and he found the energy to scramble to his feet. No sooner had he (and the stranger too, he presumed) gotten out from under the wing of the plane did it crash to the sand with an awful roar.
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Post by "not" june on Feb 25, 2017 0:32:23 GMT -5
Agnes shook her head, her hair (which was previously in a tight bun) had loosened and was then sticking to her skin in salty, wet strings; her eyes, which were crisp blue, were stark against her bloodshot whites and skin yellowing in shock - needless to say, she looked gaunt. "I... don't know exactly. Only that the plane crashed, and we're here." She sputtered out, beginning to stand again, but was a little flimsy on her legs. She watched as one of the wings of the plane fell, and nearly collided with two men who had just rushed out in time to avoid getting hit; momentarily, she chewed on her bottom lip in apprehension. "I think we should hang back from the plane. I - I don't know anything about them, but it doesn't look stable." This was all noted as she eyed a group of people trying to haul bodies and belongings from its interior, in some strange desperate attempt to cling onto normalcy.
Agnes began to back up, and trudged against the water in the opposite direction from it; while she'd initially made a point of scrambling to help out, she was now more interested in making a safe distance from the wreckage. She flicked her head, motioning for the possibility of Isaac's following.
- - -
Wilhelm watched the plane as he shook his head and paced back and forth in the sand, understandably breathless, but also visibly upset. "This is just like the [f--ing] titanic, right? They're all telling you things like 'You're more likely to get hit by a car, or bit by a pig, or whatever, and it still falls. I knew it. I knew those things weren't as safe as... As whoever thought." He kicked a bit of sand as a finale to his rant, and at last stopped pacing to give one final glare to the vehicle. "Christ knows I'm lucky I didn't tug everything I own along, right? You don't carry along the important stuff, you check it or whatever."
As he calmed, Will got somewhat of a flicker of fear in his eyes, which was present as he glanced over to Ash, beginning in a calmer, albeit strained voice: "What do we do now?"
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 25, 2017 0:57:10 GMT -5
(( js someone should join us we are cool i swear ))
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Post by "not" june on Feb 25, 2017 2:06:22 GMT -5
bump 0;
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 25, 2017 2:21:25 GMT -5
(( spicy new front. if youre reading this, you should join ))
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Post by paradox on Feb 26, 2017 20:19:51 GMT -5
{ was supposed to post something the other night but passed out instead ;; }
A figure situated somewhere between the shore and the splashing water, not far off from the wreckage itself, could have very easily been mistaken for one of the many causalities of the crash. Eerily still and a thin slab of debris embedded shallowly in the abdomen, perhaps the cause of death. And then, the slightest stir of movement as Lucius came to, weak and dazed. After adjusting to the stinging brightness of the sun, his head carefully tilted backwards on the sand, finding faint figures milling around the beach behind him. The haze clouding his thoughts, the fuzzy numb feeling coursing through his body pointed to the possibility that this was a mere dream or, better fitting, a nightmare and he was still asleep on the plane, about to wake up at any moment. And much like a dream, he had poor control of his body, his head turning through sluggish movement, arms weakened to doing no more than shifting slightly and thoughts submerged in murky waters.
Bracing his elbows against the sand, Lucius barely managed to sit upright and catch sight of the plane – or rather, what was left of it – protruding out of the ocean’s surface. His blank, glassy gaze lingered there in a vague effort of registering what had and is still happening. The sight of the ruined plane jolted him out of the assumption that this was a dream, waking him up slightly but not enough to properly comprehend. The sound of voices was heard but had blended together into garbled noise, no more than mere background noise.
His icy blue gaze swept away from the scenery and back on himself, intent on cleaning himself of the grainy sand and figuring out what had happened when the metal slab buried within the skin of his stomach stopped him from moving any further. He collapsed backwards again, a new feeling running through his veins after the sight and his mind was swept up in a whirlwind of confusion and fear. His breathing had quickened in moments, fingers curling into the ground below him as it seemed the pain finally registered in his body, spreading across his abdomen and down his legs. Lucius struggled for a question that made sense since fixating on how this happened, where they were and what to do now seemed hopeless.
“How am I going to get all this sand out of my hair?”
His dyed, lengthy white hair in question was now matted with both wet sand and blood, a sight he would have had a meltdown over if he could have seen it. The scrapes and cuts marking up his once unmarked brown skin was the next concern but not for the reason most would be worried over. Lucius very much wanted to ignore the foreign object in his body, pretend the pain was just a creation of his imagination but it was beginning to grow harder to ignore and he felt his own hand wrap around the metal but he wasn’t quite sure what for. Rational questions focused on bleeding out or where medical attention could be found were forgotten in favor of him asking himself why he had chosen to wear his most expensive outfit on the plane ride. -- Maximus seemed to have settled on the situation fairly quickly, situated against a few boulders embedded securely in the sand and working on picking out small pieces of debris out of his arm. A sizeable scar had been carved in his forehead, shallow and narrow but pouring blood out on his eye. His figure was an imposing size, easily towering over most and his body was built with tough muscles and while he was putting up a hardened exterior to go along with his intimidating appearance, Maximus was still very visibly shaken. His focus was directed towards fixing up his own wounds the best he could without actual supplies, intent on finding something to fixate on as a way of blocking out the rest of the environment. The gruesome bodies, the destroyed plane craft and the shock in the survivors’ eyes; it was all too much for him to register at the moment.
So, as to avoid getting overwhelmed, he focused on the task of picking barbs of debris and wincing at the pain of the small metals leaving his skin. At the back of his mind, however, Maximus knew he’d have to deal with the situation sooner or later. The brute strength that he was recognized for didn’t mean much when it came to emotionally straining situations. “Any of you remember what happened?” The man finally spoke up, raising his voice so as to catch the attention of those nearby. He figured prolonging acknowledging the situation would do more harm than good, anyway. -- For once, Santos was thankful for grueling military training, the muscles in his arms and legs barely feeling any exhaustion even after he managed to swim from the wreckage of the crash to the shore where other survivors had gathered. Despite how the short exercise had been taken with ease, Santos found his chest heaving in threat of hyperventilation and his arms struggling to cease their trembling. He was on his hands and knees in the sand, trying to get head together. The comprehension of the dire situation was there, but somehow just out of his grasp. His blond and black hair was soaked, sticking to the light brown skin of his forehead and the saltwater of the ocean stinging the cuts and bruises that now decorated his body. He seemed worse for wear, in just about as bad condition as everyone else and he thought back to the jokes that had been made at his tenacious resilience, back in the military. He had been called unbreakable, stubborn, and all that other sort of nonsense but now he growing to resent his knack for surviving.
There were more survivors than he would have guessed but that same cynical part of his mind wondered whether that should be considered a good or a bad thing. Santos convinced himself it fell on the side of the good, listing all the pros of having company in an effort to keep himself from outright panicking. Soldier instincts kept him from descending into hysterics, his mind still intact if not racing to remember all the survival techniques he had been taught but his memories seemed to be in a disarray from the shock. Right now, all he could remember was the last few moments of calm in the plane before everything had gone to hell. Santos glanced at the others that had gathered nearby, taking in their equally disheveled and panicked appearance. He cleared his throat, hoping to catch their attention.
“We should work on gathering what we can from whatever luggage is laying around.” His voice came out rasped and a bit on the weak side, which he remedied by clearing his throat in attempt to sound like he had it together. “We…don’t know how long we’ll be here, after all. Best to – best to take all precautions,” Santos explained, with a carefully chosen tone and words, hoping not to scare anyone with the possibility of being stranded.
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Post by нσωℓ on Feb 26, 2017 21:54:32 GMT -5
The turk pulled herself from the sand, a hand going to her upper lip. Caked in dry blood, just like her temple. How long had she been there for? She was dry, so she must have been laying there for sometime. There were others, further off and it seemed they had swam ashore. The waves must have pulled her to land. When she tried to stand, a hot searing pain shot through her body and Vivienne fell to the sand again. The grains grated across her raw skin, every part of her aching. When Vivienne pulled herself up again she burst into a coughing fit. It was horrible, wretched, agonizing. Sea water poured out of her gut, and whatever she had eaten last, whatever that might be. The pain kept her from remembering, or caring. Once she had stilled herself the turk turned toward the source of pain, hand finding blood caked upon a cash just above her hip bone, and eyes finding a dent in her rib cage. "I'm lucky it's just the one." After another round of retching she forced her gaze towards other figures, some distance away. A plea for help was made, but it was raspy, broken, and lacking wind behind it. The second call was stronger, more audible. "Can I- Can I get some help over here? Someone? Please, I- I need to stand, but my side. My ribs, I've broken one." Viv could only hope they still had ears.
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Transgender
Gojira
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying ♫
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Post by Gojira on Feb 26, 2017 22:53:51 GMT -5
Logan had been scurrying around like a chicken with his head cut off. While he was still relatively composed compared to others on the beach, the fact remained that they had all just survived a fatal plane crash, people were hurt, and he appeared to be the only one with any kind of medical experience- and he had dropped out of nursing school merely a semester before graduating, so he was sure that wasn't a good thing. He was in the middle of darting from person to person (having just decided that the tall man with the auburn hair and a concussion could survive a few more minutes) when he heard a woman calling out from farther down the beach. Turning around, he spied the person in question and swiftly jogged towards her.
She didn't to be too worse for wear, cuts, bruises, and broken rib aside. "Um, hi. You don't need to be standing right now, but I'm going to help you to somewhere more sheltered ok?" With that he slipped an arm underneath the stranger and hauled her up- wheezing a great deal as he did so, having never been the perfect example of physical strength. There was a relatively sheltered enclave at the treeline, and after several staggering steps he lowered the woman to the ground as gently as he could. "Take it easy? I'll take a better look at you later, for now just rest. Broken ribs normally heal on their own in a few weeks," he said with a shrug, hoping the information would be of some comfort.
He turned around and scanned the rest of the beach, feeling secure that he had rounded up all of the badly injured survivors. "Except that white haired guy with the piece of debris lodged in him. Wait, s***!" With that horrified thought he sprinted across the hot expanse of sand, stumbling a little because he still only had one shoe and the sand burned.
"Hey, dude, you with me?" He questioned, kneeling down next to they aforementioned impaled-by-a-piece-of-an-airplane stranger. He stood up again, realizing he probably couldn't move him all the way to his makeshift emergency room where the woman with the broken rib was if he had barely been able to move her 15 feet. "Hey, you!" He yelled, gesturing to Wilhelm who looked like he may be sort of kind of competent when it came to this type of thing. "Help me out over here? Someone has to move this guy so I can try and help him."
"The plane hit some turbulence. It lost altitude quickly and broke into two, and now we're here. Why that happened... I don't exactly know," Isaac said in reply to the imposing man with the cut on his forehead who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. At least, that is what he figured had happened and what he could sort of remember. He had gotten it together somewhat, but he was still shaking and his Italian accent had grown thicker- something that always seemed to happen whenever he was too stressed. He trudged after Agnes, silently agreeing that they should stay as far away from the remainder of the plane as possible. He wasn't too keen on being around this many people, but they would surely be rescued soon and it was his best shot at staying alive until them. However, that begged the question: did he truly want to be rescued?
Ash nodded slowly in response to Wilhelm's tirade, still barely registering what was going on but being aware that they needed to do something. "I think you should go help that guy," he said, pointing towards Logan, and I think we should also listen to "That guy," he continued, shifting the gesture towards whoever it was that had suggested they go through the luggage (he was still too dizzy to really distinguish who exactly had stated that.) "I think we'll get off here soon though," he said hoarsely, a toothy smile playing across his features for a moment.
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Feb 27, 2017 12:00:37 GMT -5
[ yo, if it weren't midterm week i would join this in a heartbeat - that being said, if this is still up and running on friday reserve me a spot. ]
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Post by maple on Feb 27, 2017 15:12:37 GMT -5
[ is this still open to join? because i'd rlly love to hop in c: ]
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Post by "not" june on Mar 1, 2017 3:54:51 GMT -5
hey!! this is definitely still open, sorry it's been a while since i've responded but we should be back into a routine now c: )) working on a response rn btw ))
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Post by maple on Mar 1, 2017 12:52:34 GMT -5
[ okay awesome!! c: I'll get a starter up as so as i can ]
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Post by maple on Mar 1, 2017 23:17:26 GMT -5
sage williams.
At first it felt like the sky was falling, or maybe that the earth was shaking -- her stomach had done those little flips, the ones you get on carnival rides when you start plummeting down down down. After that everything just went black. When Sage opened her eyes again the first thing she saw was the sky; stretching before her blue and vast. The sunlight blinded her eyes, the sand beneath her felt damp and warm. It was then that she felt water tugging at her ankles, sloshing over her shoes and tugging at them persistently. At first nothing really registered. She was just laying there thinking about nothing and doing nothing, her mind was completely silent. It took a few moments for any feeling to returned; when it did however, it felt like a ton of bricks dropped on her body. Everything ached, her lungs burned -- she felt bruised and beaten.
She rolled over with a groan, cursing the ground for feeling so rough. When she dragged herself to a standing position the ground shifted, it literally tilted to the side, sending her reeling with it. Everything was spinning, an array of colors, this way and that. Through the dizziness Sage could make out shapes, figures, moving. Running. Limping. Crawling. What the...?
That's when she saw her, a body not far away, splayed out on the ground. Dead? "Honey?" Sage choked on her own words, stumbling forth with a wince.
There was her sister -- surrounded by blood. Sage collapsed to her knees, grasping for her sister's hand. It was clammy, warm. At first she looked so motionless it was horrifying, strawberry blonde hair stuck to a cut across her cheek. But then Sage saw her eyes; wide hazel eyes, blinking rapidly like shutters against the sun. Her chest was rising too, far too quickly, but it was still heaving up and down. She was alive -- but the blood, it was staining the sand. There, wedge just below her shoulder was a shard (a piece of the plane?), it had punctured through her skin and was stuck there. Honey's head turned slowly, mouth parting open as she struggled to breath. "Get it out." She gasped, grimacing, sweat dripping down her forehead. Sage, trying to keep her hair from blowing into her eyes, felt incredibly ill. Was it right to pull it out? Wouldn't it bleed worse? Could it stay there? Sage felt her hand grasping around it, saw Honey squeeze her eyes shut, heard herself counting: "One, two, three..."
honey williams.The scream that came from her mouth was so loud she was sure the whole world could her it. And the pain -- oh the pain; scalding and burning like fire was raging across her skin. She cried, managing to wipe the tears away with a hand, but still they spilled from her watering eyes. She was aware of Sage, dark-haired and grey-eyed, ripping off the bottom of her own shirt to awkwardly pressed it against the wound while muttering something about all the blood. Honey smiled a little incoherently at her twin's scowl, that of which was all too familiar. "Did you learn that in a movie?" Her voice sounded raspy, but somehow it managed to be somewhat light. Sage didn't respond, but rather, lifted Honey to her feet, supporting her weight with a grunt.
"We need help... you need help." Sage started to shout, waving her arms and dragging Honey along with her.
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Post by maple on Mar 1, 2017 23:51:34 GMT -5
[ that was a rlly bad starter but i wanted to get something up ]
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