-snip-
Blade appreciated the trust of her crew members, but didn't let it show too much. Her helmet acting like sunglasses to a modern man, she glared at the stowaway and Carlos. She turned back to the crew. "First thing we should do is see if we can get food on this beach. There should be fish or crabs on a beach front such as this. After we can eat, then we should have the strength to investigate that smoke. From what I remember in school lava plains don't give off smoke, unless they are actively burning the forest. In that case no matter what we do we are screwed." She turned to the lifeboat and other debris. Getting an idea, she exclaimed. "If we can find some more small metal pieces we could craft some spears for fishing. Someone find me some wood and I can make some handles!"
Varos nodded. "We got some fishing line in one of these survival kits. Lemme see if I can't put a rod together..." He disappeared into a life boat and began rummaging around inside.
Shinji licked his lips. "I could go for some nice roasted crab... I'll keep an eye out."
"...Huh. Guess Feminamian plains are just special, then..."
Ieyasi'alaevl waved her comment away and turned to the jungle.
"I'll get some wood. Shouldn't be too hard. Though, you've got a knife, Ms. Large and In Charge, so why don'tcha come help me out? Should make it go a whole lot faster."
Ieyasi shed her suit jacket and business skirt for freedom of movement. Her blouse was somewhat dirty, but it looked serviceable.
"I think it'd be a pretty good idea to pull some-a those boats on shore to use as shelter for a bit."
Blade simply nodded and motioned to the other crew members to start pulling up the boats. She then walked toward the tattooed woman, motioning her forward.
The crew said nothing, distracted by other happenings, but the idle Tim watched Ieyasi'alaevl with suspicion as he sat bleeding into the white sand.
"Be careful, Blade," he shouted, not caring that the Feminamian could hear him. "Don't let your guard down around here. And certainly don't give her that knife."
Carlos was a scout in his youth, but he could barely remember anything he learned, as he left early on. His advancement had always been stunted by his heritage, after all.
Still, he figured it wouldn't hurt to at least try to contribute. Walking along the beach gathering materials for the others, he spotted a small lizard on the beach.
Dinner, Carlos thought.
A quick jab with a pointed twig did the job, and he walked back to camp with materials and a reptilian shish kebab in tow.
The lizard released a little squeal as the stick pierced it's skin. Suddenly, there was a rustling in some nearby shrub. Thousands of small lizards, squealing and skittering, ran out from the bushes in a group, performing a sort of Chinese fire drill around Carlos in a very stupid attempt to escape from him. Shinji and Jake, who had finished pulling up the boats, ran over to watch.
"Haha, wow! Look at that! Never had lizard before, but this looks like a feast!"
"Hold on a second," said Shinji, kneeling down to inspect the flood of reptiles. "You see how some of them are weirdly colored?"
Jake squinted. Most of the lizards were a dull grey or brown, but some were bright green and pink. A hot pink lizard hung from Carlos' makeshift spear.
"I don't think we should eat those lizards. Isn't color a sign of poison in some reptiles?"
"I dunno," said Jake. "Tropical animals have all sorts of weird colors. I think it'll be fine, if we cook them."
"What do you think, Carlos?" asked Shinji.
-snip-
Crash Site of Magnolia Flight 219
Logan woke up. He had a splitting headache as he opened his eyes and noticed blood on the seatback in front of him.
What happened? Where am I?
He was in his seat on the plane with his seatbelt fastened. The blood on the seatback was from his forehead, which had stopped bleeding but was still tender to the touch. He looked out the window to his right and saw a thick tropical forest.
What the...
He then quickly looked to his left and saw his best friend Ethan slouched over.
"Ethan," he said as he nudged him. Ethan didn't move.
"Ethan," he said louder, nudging him harder. Again, nothing.
"Ethan!" he yelled as he shook his lifeless friend.
Just then, he looked past Ethan and noticed that his other two friends, Aiden and Mason, were missing. His fingers shaking, he struggled to get his seatbelt off. Finally, he was free, and he jumped up, banging his head on the overhead compartment.
"FUCK!" he yelled out as he held the top of his head.
He looked around. The entire back half of the plane was missing. A huge gash in the ground bordered by broken and uprooted trees went into the distance as it showed the path the front half of the plane took to end here. Inside the plane, several people were still strapped in their seats, though many were obviously missing from before. Luggage was strewn all over as the doors to many of the overhead compartments laid open.
He looked back down. Goddammit, Ethan.
He then climbed over the dead body of his best friend and headed further towards the front of the plane, still clutching his head. The door to the cockpit was ajar, so he opened it fully and went inside. Both pilots sat slumped over. He looked out the windshield and saw nothing but sky where he expected more trees.
What is happening? Am I dreaming?
He rushed out of the cockpit to the door leading to the exterior of the airplane, yanked the lever, and pushed the door open. The trees just stopped at a sharp cliff. Looking down, the cockpit was hanging over a very far drop. He fell back, still somewhat dizzy and not wanting to fall out. Standing back up, he looked at rest of the passengers.
"Is anyone still alive?!" he yelled at the them.
A group of survivors, about forty in total, were gathered on the outside of the plane. A pile of corpses were lined up and covered in tarps cut from the emergency rafts. The battered survivors looked at Logan as he yelled.
"Barely," one man responded sarcastically. The uniformed copilot stepped forward.
"Glad to see someone else made it." He looked at the tarp-covered pile of corpses. "If you're looking for someone, I would check that pile first. We don't know where the other half of the plane is yet."
"We should get them buried as fast as possible, with respect," a middle-aged woman clutching a rosary said frantically. "It's only the right thing. It's what God would want."
"Not so fast," the copilot responded coolly. "We have an obligation to the living first. Let's keep looking for survivors first, maybe find some food and water, then we can bury them. I don't think God would be mad at us for trying to keep each other alive."
A diverse group of children stood by the tarps. Some of them were crying, but most just stared with wide eyes at the pile. The other adults quietly milled about, nursing their wounds and inspecting the wreckage and corpses away from the pile. Aiden and Mason were still nowhere to be found.
Troubadour group morale: C+, increasing.
Flight 219 group morale: D-, decreasing.
No important relationships or feelings.
Special Events:
+Lizard frenzy!
