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Lonely Lover

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      "ε ℓ ℓ ι s c σ я в ε т т ε"

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      ♥...ι'м үσυя ρυρρεт...ι'ℓℓ ℓεαяη тσ ℓσvε ιт...♥
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      ѕтυpιdυglyworтнleѕѕannoyιngpoιnтleѕѕιrrιтaтιnglazyвadнιdeoυѕυnlovaвleυnworтнy
      dιѕgυѕтιngrevolтιngғaтrepυlѕιveclυeleѕѕғoolιѕнcrυelpaтнeтιcвιzzareѕтreѕѕғυlтнey'ewaтcнιngyoυellιѕтнey'rejυdgιngyoυrυnawayellιѕ
      вecaυѕeyoυĸnowιғyoυdonтмaттerтoтнeм

      yoυdonтмaттeraтall
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                            Ellis sunk into her seat as she heard chatter mixed around in the background and was now beginning to try to drown it out. She still felt anxious butterflies circling her tummy, sinking her fingertips lightly into her seat and just meekly wishing she were home. The girl with braids and a long, heavy skirt closed her eyes for just a moment, trying to find some consoling and positive thoughts, but she found none. She felt a tug on her shoulder and opened them, looking to Elizabeth. The small girl with shiny dark hair looked up at Ellis with wide, curious eyes, "Hey, hey, do you like how I drew this?" She showed off her scribble mess of a design to Ellis, with Cinderella's tomato-red hair not even drawn in the lines and some strange messy arrangement of colors supposed to represent her dress, eyes, and skin. it probably resembled one of those famous elephant drawings that sold for lots of money, but due to the fact a small human drew it, it was probably worth half a potato. Maybe.

                            "It's lovely, Elizabeth." Ellis, of course, said, and with a little smile to boot. Elizabeth beamed in pride with a smile that stretched ear to ear.

                            Ellis pursued her lips slightly as her nanny senses were tingling and she felt something was not quite right. Perhaps she had heard some little footsteps or felt a movement in the seat next to her, but she looked over, and where Fletcher's fat happy face was before was now an empty plane seat. Her eyes widened before she looked ahead and noticed Fletcher talking to a rather intimidating women next to some rather intimidating men in uniform. A scared twitch went throughout her entire body as she heard some of the conversation going on. She arose and wandered over to Fletcher's side, tapping his shoulder,

                            "Fletcher, let's go back to our seats, okay?" While she was saying this, though, she was looking at who had caught the young boy's attention.

                            The first thing she noticed was a gleam nearby the woman's wrists, so of course her eyes wandered straight down to her wrists and noticed the handcuffs. Suddenly, the men in uniform were beginning to feel a lot more like cops, security guards, or some other scary equivalent and less like regular citizens. The woman herself didn't even need the handcuffs to look intimidating-- she was tall, covered in tattoos, bloodshot eyes, and somewhat of an irritated aura about her. That was one thing Ellis was decent at. She could typically tell when someone wasn't in a good mood, although of course she did too assume everyone was in a bad mood when she was around. She was at a cross between apologizing to the woman for Fletcher's disturbance, or hurrying back to the seat before the woman tried to make eye contact with her. Fletcher didn't make it any easier,

                            "Why? She's cool! She's nothing like the boring maids at home, she's 6'1! Isn't that tall? I don't even think daddy is that tall!"

                            "Yes but I think she wants to sleep Fletcher..." Ellis mumbled under her breath, not exactly wanting to grab Fletcher by his arm and yank him back to his seat, but hoping the young boy would have some sense and realize that this woman didn't really want to be talked to. It was obvious Ellis wasn't just uneasy about this mysteriously off-putting woman but also embarrassed about the situation, her pale skin a little redder then usual on her cheeks and nose.

                            "Marilynn said she didn't mind and she was just tired, though!"

                            Some little bits of chatter were heard by some neighboring seats and someone repeated the name 'Marilynn' to themselves. Ellis looked around a little strangely, wondering why that evoked a response from strangers. Usually people on planes were distracted with electronics and books, or were asleep, trying to drown out the boring plane atmosphere and how much pressure they had in their ears. "Can I please?" Fletcher whined, now sounding desperate to talk to his newly-made friend.

                            Where:Economy Class| Whom: Employer's children, Fletcher and nearby Elizabeth| Feeling: Anxious | Slightly sick | Stressed | Embarrassed OOC: I CAN'T BELIEVE WE DIDN'T EVEN GET PAST THE FIRST PAGE W/O GIGGITY


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Lonely Lover

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      "нαzεℓ мαяιε "

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      It doesn't matter if you want it back. You've given it away.
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      This isn't a brave face. This isn't a brave face.
      This is a mask.
      ════════════════════════════════════════


                            Vincent seemed more than pleased with her response as his hands had moved to her sides alongside her hips. Upon him first touching her, even with the fabric of clothing preventing his actual skin touching hers, she felt a light tingling sensation in her body. She had still felt his warmth, felt him close to her, and that was enough for her to grow even more in interest. She watched him with slightly parted lips as his hands had gotten ahold of her seat-belt and buckled her up for her, flashing her a very charming little smirk before buckling up his own. Hazel had felt her toes curl slightly and she returned a smile back to him, unknowingly. 'Wow. I could never get tired of that smirk of his.' Her body reacted on instinct-- some hardwired codes of thousands of years of human evolution surfacing as her heartbeat quickened and her skin became summery and warm, her eyes visually scanning any and every motion Vincent made, her face not turning away.

                            " Good morning Flight 2364 , We are now climbing to our cursing height of 35k. You will notice the seat belt sign is now on please wait until the light is off to undo your buckle and move about the cabin. After the light is off our flight attendants will becoming around with your complementary drink and snacks. Thank you for flying delta airline. "

                            Hazel wasn't sure how long they'd have to wait, but if it was going to be long she'd wiggle with apprehension. She licked the inside of her mouth, thinking she wouldn't mind inciating it, but a part of her also could feel the plane hadn't quite leveled yet. She looked forward and noticed some people staring out of their windows, whereas others were already falling asleep or trying to drown everyone out by eyeballing the brochures and magazines the planes provided. She even noticed a small boy and older girl-- perhaps a teenager-- talking to another person in a different seat. All of these images passed through her mind like icons however and were vanquished just as they appeared, leaving no fingerprints in her mind as her mind was only focused on one thing, like a dog and a bone.

                            She heard a ta-click noise of a buckle undoing.

                            Her catlike eyes smoothly moved to the side as she noticed Vincent arising in his seat, and now she could get a better look at his legs and his overall body. She felt her heart beat even a little faster, but she enjoyed the apprehension to an extent-- it was exhilarating as much as it was aggravating. His crotch was in her face for a moment before he undid her buckle for her and helped her up with a few words, "Let's go, sexy." Of course, nobody around them had any clue as to what kind of interaction they were having-- or were going to have. It seemed so normal but between them there was an aura that others weren't picking up on. Him holding her hand-- the rougher texture of his more masculine and larger hand-- the warmth of it-- it felt like her senses were heightening like a tower.

                            They walked to the back of the plane and disappeared smoothly into the restroom, undetected.

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                            Vincent had already left and Hazel was in the restroom by herself. The restroom was incredibly small, to the point where an outhouse was probably a better alternative if you wanted to do your business. The two had clearly done a very different kind of business, though. She rubbed at some of her hair, pushing it behind her ear as she felt endorphins humming madly in her mind and a grin plastered to her face. She pulled up her shorts, adjusting them somewhat lazily as the kinds of feeling she had were heavenly and she didn't seem to be able to fret or care much about getting dressed quickly. She accidentally caught her reflection in the mirror and she noticed her hair was quite the mess, strands falling over her face and some of it bunched into her top. She adjusted her hair for the moment, moving the dirty blonde locks in their natural direction, and eyeballing her makeup and knowing she'd have to adjust it because of the sweat that had formed on her skin before and during the shenanigans. But there was something she couldn't deny-- she loved this feeling. She felt warm, safe, gooey, like a stack of morning pancakes to wake up to. No more worrying, no more insecurity, no more fretting. Her grandparents had long since passed her mind and she wouldn't be thinking of them for awhile-- why would she? She was pleased.

                            She opened the door once ready, walking back to her seat swaying her hips casually.

                            She coyly took her seat next to Vincent like a pleased cat, her smile still very evident on her face as a hand returned to her purse and she fixed her makeup, mostly her eyeliner. Without even looking at him, she murmured just loud enough for him to hear, "You're real good, I hope you know." She returned her makeup casually to her purse before leaning back in her seat, not even caring to adjust her seatbeat. In fact, she wouldn't mind sleeping for a bit, wiggling a bit to feel more comfortable in her seat.

                            Where: Plane| Whom: Vincent, Rest of plane | Feeling: Relaxed | Happy | Lazy | OOC: What is in Hazel's luggage and her outfit


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Laybunny's Husband

Dangerous Lunatic

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"Terror is coursing in me,Dreading the final moments,When I have to dream,And feel you die,Death inside of me keeps a diligent watch on everything.Keeps a terrible hold on my belief.Just waiting for the moment when I..."
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- FancyMeetingYouHere.
Finally the Vincents sexy little piece of plane a** Hazel had finally had returned from the bathroom taking her seat next to him. Almost as soon as she did she began to clean herself up more. This reminded him of other times when he was younger and some of the flings he had had where they'd have to touch them selfs up before returning to their boyfriends.
"You're real good, I hope you know."
Vincent knew this long before she said it to him. After all he could tell she had enjoined him when they were in the bathroom. " You were not bad yourself sexy, A shame we only have the plane ride to play." he teased her a bit.
Vincent noticed her leaning back into her seat. His right hand drifted down pulling up the armrests between them. Then he adjusted himself a bit before wrapping his arm around her pulling her closer so she could lay against him to sleep some after all he did not see her turning this down after all leaning on your hand or against the shitty seat would not do her sleep any justice. " Come here " he said as he did this to her as he used his left hand to close the window to keep the light out for her since she lacked his glasses. It would not be long until he fall asleep with her.

-TimeSkip
The plane began to rock heavily do to some turbulence this was enough to make Vincent awaken fully from his sleep. Almost at the same time the pilots voice came over the inter calm.
" Hello ladies and gentleman ,we are experiencing some turbulence you will now notice the seat belt sign is on. Once we are clear of the turbulence we will shut it off and you can once again move freely in the cabin." Even though the pilot held a professional voice something was off about his voice in his voice. Almost as if he was hiding something from them.
Vincent turned his head towards his window pulling it open some just enough to see out. Black he couldn't see anything let alone the engines he had watched during take off. The flight had flown into a storm. Least that was his knowledge of why it'd be so black. His eyes shifted when he noticed a flight attendant walking past them quickly to the back with some sense of urgency. So many red flags were going off in his mind.
Then it happened a Thunderous BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM came from his left as he noticed a sudden depresiozation in the cabin at this time gas masks fell down as the oxygen began to be sucked out of the cabin. A breach in the hull. Vincent turned his attention to Hazel first helping her with his mask before bending down putting on his book bag before his own mask which caused him to remove his glasses putting them inside his jacket.
Mass panic was now happening but hardly anything could be heard over the air leaving the cabin. He turned his attention to Hazel watching her now holding her hand. Now feeling the plane descending fast. Even though this chaos had been going on around them he held a smile watching her as if he was comforting her to keep her calm during this hellish time.
These moments would be cut very short as the sound of tearing metal could be heard screaming as the plane was torn almost nearly in half. If it had not been for the belt attached surely many would of been tossed out and about as the cabin began to fall tossing and turning rapidly and all of a sudden smash. It hit the water causing it to rush in and filling the cabin from the back bathroom area. The seats that were filled behind Vincent and Hazel were now squashed up much like a beer can who ever had been sitting in the back were now more then likely dead.
Even though Vincent had been rocked pretty hard hitting his head against the seats He was still conscious bleeding a bit but it was the cool salt water that had snapped him awake since he could not breath underwater. Undoing Hazels belt then his own he'd let her free before him. To make their escape.

-WhoNeedsAHero?
Now Vincent knew he could make his escape with Hazel he'd remain moving about the submerged cabin helping people undo their belts to float up following others that had began to swim free. This of course was limited to mostly the seats that they were close too.
[ Feel free to have Vincent help your character if they need it. ]

-TheGreatEscapeToTresureIsland
Swimming free of the sinking plane half Vincent now floated to the surface his head turned every which way trying to find his bearings thankfully he had noticed farmliar faces. But that was not what caught his eyes It was land they were not far off from a beach about a ten minute swim or so. He'd start his swim assisting only a few with the swim.
[Can't swim no problem , Vincent is able to aid weak swimmers. Max of two]
Washing up on beach he pushed himself up to his feet standing up looking back over the sea noticing other swimming ashore along with the debris of the plane half. Where did the other half land? At this time he did not care. He'd aid a few people before worrying about his own a** and trying to figure where the hell he was.



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"Supposed to be happy, but I'm only getting colder
Wear a smile on my face, but there's a demon inside"
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Dapper Fatcat

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              "Fletcher, let's go back to our seats, okay?"

              Her eyes quickly flickered open almost as fast as they had shut. She looked up to see a young girl with braids and dressed rather oddly. It was Fletcher's nanny. Her porcelain like skin was flushed warmly but ever so slightly as she spoke, and in all honesty, she looked anxious as hell. Perhaps what was offsetting the young lady was the handcuffs, her looks, the detectives sitting behind her, or just a combination of all. She watched as the young girl's eyes wandered down to her handcuffs.

              "Why? She's cool! She's nothing like the boring maids at home, she's 6'1! Isn't that tall? I don't even think daddy is that tall!" the kid quickly responded by slewing out a handful of excuses to stay plotted near Marilynn. Of course, she didn't care. As long as she slept for at least a couple of hours, he could come back and even stay the remainder of the flight if he wanted.

              "Yes but I think she wants to sleep Fletcher..."

              "Marilynn said she didn't mind and she was just tired, though!" Up until this point of their debate, she had a rather disinterested look on her face and remained quiet. However, a slight twinge of annoyance was sent throughout her body from the boy's accidental mistake in yelling her name. Of course, it wasn't his fault. He didn't know any better. But she turned her head to the passengers on board, and heard soft echos of her name among themselves. The stares, people's obvious whispers, the awkward and general bad feeling from the attention she was receiving, and was that... a cell phone aimed at her?

              It quickly registered in her mind someone across the cabin was trying to get a steady photo of her, and she reacted by turning her head and picking up the brochure, covering her profile. "Kid," she said, facing towards the wall. "Do what your nanny says. You can come back over in a few hours if you want. Let me get some sleep, yeah?" She licked her lips in an irritated fashion. None of which she did because of Fletcher, but she couldn't believe someone was trying to take her god damn photo from across the plane without asking. What the hell was wrong with people?

              "Go on. I'll still be here," she said in a somewhat reassuring tone. It was when Fletcher agreed and began prying out of his seat, reuniting at the side of the nanny, when a young female rudely shoved them out of her way. "Excuse me!" Marilynn sighed, ignoring the short, stubby woman. "Hey!" Marilynn didn't even acknowledge her existence, still holding the brochure over her face. "I wanted to know if I could get a photo together. You are THE Marilynn right? I've been reading a s**t ton of articles about you online. Please? I could get so many notes." "No." "But it would mean a lot--" "No." "But, let me expl--" "I said no. You don't understand English or something?" The woman suddenly reached out, grabbing Marilynn's arm and trying to force the brochure that was obscuring her face out of the way for a photo.

              Mari retracted her constrained arms, unbuckled her seat belt, and stood up, towering above the woman. She looked up to her, her mouth slightly agape, unable to speak. Although her eyes were being blocked by the dark sunglasses, it was quite obvious what her facial expression said. Just by her body language, it swore and shouted to get lost. She looked up, before realizing a few people were recording her with their smartphones, causing her to shake her head in disbelief of the audacity of their actions, "For ******** sake." "Hey! Turn your camera's off. This isn't a photo shoot." "It's my right to take photos!" "She said no photos," the detectives chipped in, approaching some people in various rows in a threatening manner. This was ridiculous. Still, she stood tall, staring down at the woman. Her mouth opened to say something, before she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. Turning, ready to choke the next entitled piece of photo-asking little s**t that was near her, she froze and stepped back a little. Her face pulled into a confused expression as the rage that had once been building up in every nook and cranny in her body suddenly seem to cease. "So, you're Marilynn?"

              The short woman looked at the tall man as well, beginning to add some kind of gibberish of how she wanted a photo, until he cut her off. "You need to return to your seat," the cold words settled like stones thrown into an arctic pond. The only thing that made the words somewhat refreshing was the obvious accent. A Russian accent.

              The detectives had returned, confiscating one phone in their hand, pathetically might I add. "Ma'am," one began, "Sir. I need to ask you both to return to your seats. The person in our custody isn't consenting to any photos, and any pictures, videos, or media will be confiscated if needed." "Well, i-it is my righ--" "That won't be a problem. I was sitting in first class, and I came over looking for a flight attendant. They seem to be absent in our section." "Oh, I see. Well, alright." The tall, dark haired man walked away, and the detectives messily brought the woman back to her assigned seat. Marilynn had sat down, jamming the seat belt back in rather forcefully. She wasn't sure if she had done it right, and assumed she would have trouble yanking it out by herself, but she figured the men in black could always just help her with it when they landed.

              a sleepy timeskip

              "Hello ladies and gentleman, we are experiencing some turbulence... is on. Once we are ...turbulence we will sh... freely in the cabin." Her tired eyes drifted open slowly, her mouth parched, and had a somewhat overall feverish feeling. She felt some jolting and rocking in her seat, which made her sleepy state more appealing to her brain, until it dawned on her. The ******** plane was jolting. Her eyes opened up, turning her head and body to back to look at the detectives. "You got your seat belt on, Marilynn?" "Yeah." She then turned to look as other people were acting somewhat strange, and the facial expressions she was now observing on various people were quite familiar to her. The majority of the people were terrified they were going to die.

              "It's just some turbulence, rig--"

              BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

              "s**t!" Air masks fell down in every seat, as she quickly managed to put on hers. Her stomach begin to drop and rise up to her throat as the feeling of the plane began to tip. The screams she heard were barely audible over the sounds of metal tearing apart, air rushing in and at the same time sucking out, the obvious beeps and shrieks of alarms and engines roaring. She looked out the window and only saw darkness, but quickly saw water, emerald water, below from the break in the clouds. The small speckled landmarks drew closer by every second. They were crashing.

              They were crashing, the chances of them surviving was low. Why wasn't she crying? Why wasn't she confessing? Was she dreaming still?

              The shock of the landing was aggressively strong, as her body was flung against her seat roughly. Her attention wavered slightly, her eyesight going in and out, fluttering like a badly framed movie. However, when the cold water had flooded in quickly, and already was up to her shoulders, was when she began to react more logically. She reached for her seat belt, tugging rather sternly. "Hey! Get me out of here!" she nervously yelled. "Help me, god dam--" her head craned to look at the two detectives that were once sitting behind her, but they were now absent from their seats. She turned back, focusing on her strength to unbuckle the seat belt, the water now rushing and splashing under her chin. It wasn't until her body was completely submerged, and a minute later past that, she broke free.

              A rush of relief was sent through her bones, as she reached out in instinct to swim out, but realized her arms were still cuffed. She moved to the luggage compartment above the detective's seats, pushing past the luggage that remained inside, and pulled a locked suitcase out. Barely making out the cabin, she began to slightly gasp for air, and as she kept forcing her legs to kick furiously to propel her long body to the surface, the gasps became more and more pronounced, her lungs restricting and throbbing for air. Her head was beginning to feel pressurized, and she began to swallow the salt water, until she finally reached it.

              She rolled onto the sandy shore, gagging, and choking up water as she did so. Her body shook as water came flooding out of her nose as well. There wasn't a word to describe how her eyes felt. The pain nearly cracking her skull into miniature pieces. She barely pulled her wet body into the dry sand, throwing the suitcase on the floor, and her body on top of it. Her face felt the warmth of the silky, white sand. If she wasn't for almost dying, Marilynn would have been standing in awe of it all: the undeniable beauty of the pure, tropical scenery. After a few minutes passed of gathering herself is when she sat up, putting on the cheap, dark sunglasses, and staring out on the shore. Many people had made it, some in better standing than she was. Others didn't, as bodies were on the shore. She heard people screaming out other's names frantically, but it wasn't until she saw the familiar bodies, she stood up. Grabbing the suitcase, the tattooed woman walked oddly over to the men, the ones had left her to drown. She searched their pockets, snagged a pair of keys, and flung the cuffs off. She was free...

              ...but where the hell was she?

              She moved away a little from the bodies, enough to separate people from identifying her and the two dead detectives together. Laying down on the sand, she began to gather herself together, still gagging and coughing horridly from what had happened just minutes before.


              ✘ WHERE [ Airplane | Island de Cannibal' ]
              ✛ WHO [ Two Detectives | Those onboard | Fletcher | Nanny | Herself ]
              ✘ OOC NOTES [ empty ]
              ✛ FEEL [ Tired | Panicked | Horrified | Relieved | Grim | Confused ]


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Lonely Lover

11,075 Points
  • Perfect Attendance 400
  • Lavish Tipper 200
  • Elocutionist 200
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      "ε ℓ ℓ ι s c σ я в ε т т ε"

      ════════════════════════════════════════

      ♥...ι'м үσυя ρυρρεт...ι'ℓℓ ℓεαяη тσ ℓσvε ιт...♥
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      ѕтυpιdυglyworтнleѕѕannoyιngpoιnтleѕѕιrrιтaтιnglazyвadнιdeoυѕυnlovaвleυnworтнy
      dιѕgυѕтιngrevolтιngғaтrepυlѕιveclυeleѕѕғoolιѕнcrυelpaтнeтιcвιzzareѕтreѕѕғυlтнey'ewaтcнιngyoυellιѕтнey'rejυdgιngyoυrυnawayellιѕ
      вecaυѕeyoυĸnowιғyoυdonтмaттerтoтнeм

      yoυdonтмaттeraтall
      ════════════════════════════════════════


                            "Kid," The woman had covered her face slightly with a brochure, seeming to turn away. "Do what your nanny says. You can come back over in a few hours if you want. Let me get some sleep, yeah?"

                            The stranger then added. "Go on. I'll still be here."

                            Fletcher pouted, sticking out his lower lip with a rather pathetic puppy-dog look on his face, but he frankly did care about her response. Even if he was a little bit selfish and wanted to hog her attention, he didn't want to bother her or make her dislike him through his constant questioning. "Okaaayy..." He accepted in a low whining voice, at least seemingly comforted by the fact that this woman seemed honest about needing the sleep and being willing to speak with him later. He wiggled out of the seat and returned to Ellis's side. Ellis sighed a little sigh of relief at this, until suddenly she was shoved rudely by a young lady. Ellis frowned slightly and Fletcher had a look of disbelief, wanting to say something, but Ellis had quickly gestured him to return to his seat with her. Not surprisingly attune to Ellis's meekly passive personality, she wasn't going to start a confrontation over being shoved.

                            The two of them sat back down. Ellis still eyeballed the scene a bit out of the corner of her eyes.

                            "Excuse me!"
                            "Hey!"
                            "I wanted to know if I could get a photo together. You are THE Marilynn right? I've been reading a s**t ton of articles about you online. Please? I could get so many notes."
                            "No."
                            "But it would mean a lot--"
                            "No."
                            "But, let me expl--"
                            "I said no. You don't understand English or something?"

                            A little frown flickered onto Ellis's lips, '... Could she be some kind of celebrity ... ?' Her eyes flickered down to Marilynn's outfit in a bit of a puzzling way, 'Do celebrities just dress like that? That doesn't seem right...' Ellis was quite a bit naive about the external world, as her employer wasn't the kind to let her leisurely read magazines or watch television. She might have known one or two tidbits about celebrities, but she had no idea of any particularities such as names or fashion senses.

                            Suddenly, she stood, and Ellis froze in startled fear.

                            She watched a scene play out between the men in the suits, and then another man who appeared on the scene, also intimidating and tall and with a notable Russian accent. Ellis bit her lower lip until she felt another tug on her sleeve and her attention flickered to her left side, where Elizabeth sat with wide eyes, holding out a new drawing and seeming equally as excited for Ellis's opinion on it, "What do you think?" "It's beautiful, Elizabeth." Ellis cooed lightly as she rubbed at some of Elizabeth's dark, thick locks of shiny hair. "I'm going to add a sun and some clouds, too!" Elizabeth quickly went back to drawing, kicking her feet excitedly as she drew a bunch of things all over that Disney coloring pad. Ellis kept an eye on the Employer's children, talking to both of them throughout the flight. Fletcher eyeballed in Marilynn's direction a few times with a bit of a frown, as if wishing his stare would make her wake up and then excitedly gesture him over to tell him all about why she talks different and why she has handcuffs on and if she's ever been to prison. The Employer's children weren't much more experienced of the world than Ellis was, although they were a lot more prone to ask questions.

                            "Hello ladies and gentleman ,we are experiencing some turbulence you will now notice the seat belt sign is on. Once we are clear of the turbulence we will shut it off and you can once again move freely in the cabin."

                            Ellis didn't think much of this, not that she even understood some of the terms mentioned. 'Turbulence'. 'Cabin'. Wasn't a cabin a sort of small building made of logs? When did they ever enter a cabin? Fletcher and Elizabeth took zero notice of the announcements, clearly absorbed in their own little bubbles and imaginations. Ellis was now eyeballing her skirt, adjusting the fabric lighlty with her pale, frail hands, noting the wrinkles that were forming. She was only mildly uneasy at this point. Many of the strangers around her were sleeping or completely as absorbed as Fletcher and Elizabeth were. She still didn't feel happy in this public setting, but she had settled down quite a bit from the beginning.

                            BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

                            Nevermind.

                            "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
                            "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

                            The children screamed. Oxygen masks fell down. Ellis froze in fear as adrenline began to course through her veins rapidly and time was slowing down, the stimuli she wasn't focused on all blurring together as her mind went on high alert mode. However, she wasn't acting logically-- she was acting instinctively, impulsively, and speedily, driven by nothing but her hardwired hormonal response. She looked to either side of her to see the two distressed faces of the Employer's children, looking to her with pleading eyes for guidance through this terror. She grabbed one of the oxygen masks and fastened to Elizabeth's face and could see the relief as Elizabeth began quickly breathing again. She turned and noticed Fletcher trying to grab at the mask, quickly catching on. Ellis took care of him too, grabbing the mask, and fastening it to his face so both of the children can breathe. Ellis felt her world beginning to spin as more terrified voices filled the cabin. She reached up to grab her mask, throwing her hand first quickly,

                            And fell face first into the seat in front of her.

                            An array of young scared cries followed. "ELLIS!" "ELLIS!" "NO!" "LIZZY, PUT THE MASK ON HER!" "I DON'T KNOW HOW!" "SOMEONE HELP US! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP! HELP HELP!" Fletcher wiggled madly in his seat as Elizabeth began crying, hot tears rolling down her face.

                            She adjusted lightly, trying to see the both of them again and move closer, but her body felt weighted down. The only thing that was preventing her from crumbling into a heap on the floor was the fact her seatbelt was loosely fastened still. She felt her world turning like she was being spun around, but she was able to gasp out a few more words, "Listen-- B-Both of you, hold onto me, ok--ay?" Both of them responded immediately by grabbing onto Ellis, Fletcher crawling into her arms quickly and Elizabeth clutching at her torso with tight little hands. "When the plane la-ands--" Ellis held onto them both as tight as her muscles would allow, "Take off your s-seatbelts--" And she muttered lastly,

                            "And then go find your daddy."

                            Ellis then fell into an abyss of darkness, her senses, the light, the cries, all drowned out and replaced by the serene yet emptiness of unconsciousness.
                            Where: | Whom: | Feeling: OOC:


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Lonely Lover

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      "T̲̅ʜ̲̅ᴏ̲̅ᴍ̲̅ᴀ̲̅s̲̅ ̲̅W̲̅ɪ̲̅ʟ̲̅ʜ̲̅ᴏ̲̅ᴜ̲̅ɴ̲̅ᴅ̲̅"

      ════════════════════════════════════════

      I lost my ignorance, security, and pride...
      ✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕
      I believed you: Your promises and lies.
      ════════════════════════════════════════


                            The plane ride went somewhat smoothly for those first couple of hours... somewhat. Nevermind the fact Gregory needed constant ressurance in order not to have a heart attack.

                            "Oh god. Oh god, are we lifting off?"
                            "I feel sick. Should I go to the restroom? Your mouth salivates before you're about to throw up, right?"
                            "Oh god my heart is pounding in my chest."
                            "What if the plane crashes?"
                            "Thomas, you were paying attention during the emergency videos, right?"
                            "Damn, I wish there was a way I could've just driven to my cousins."

                            Gregory whined, looking boredly at this book as his mind was quite evidently not on the text in front of him, "What if something goes wrong and we die?"
                            "Will you shut up?" Thomas said with an exasperated sigh, not sure what else to respond with as comforting people wasn't his forte.
                            "Honestly though."

                            "Hello ladies and gentleman ,we are experiencing some turbulence you will now notice the seat belt sign is on. Once we are clear of the turbulence we will shut it off and you can once again move freely in the cabin."

                            Thomas barely even responded to the announcements as he thumbed through the brochure for like the third time. He was really bored and because of the fact Gregory had planned all of this so short-notice, he wasn't able to bring any entertainment with him. He had a cruddy laptop somewhere in his apartment he could've brought onto the plane and watched some movies or television episodes or something. He wasn't much of a reader and sleeping, although a noble attempt was made, was not possible with his whiny male girlfriend sitting next to him.

                            "I really hope you're right and that nothing happ--"

                            BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

                            The gas masks fell and the screaming and deranged voices ran through the room wildly like shadows on a wall. They were varied, jumping back and forth, flickering in and out as time slowed down to an eerie adrenaline-filled pace. Thomas grabbed and adjusted his mask and eyeballed Gregory, seeing him do the same, although he held a look of complete terror and panic as the blood drained from his face. Thomas wasn't sure what to do-- everything was happening so quickly and so slowly at the same time, that the moment he tried to open his mouth to say something, anything-- he noticed

                            The plane hit water.

                            Gregory had begun to unbuckle his seatbelt out of fear and the impact had sent him flying. He hit his head hard on the opposing part of the plane, crumbling to a pile to the floor as water began to fill the surrounding area and began to cover him. Thomas ripped off his gas mask and grabbed onto the seat, pulling himself out of his wheelchair and condensing it so it looked like a crutch. He scooted to Gregory's side and smacked his face, "Move your dumb a**, we need to go." "I-- oh god--" Gregory was still conscious and coughed a few times, and now the handicapped man could see the blood pouring from his head and the glossy look in his eyes. He was hit and he was hit hard, bruising forming around the deep crimson blood running down his chubby innocent face. A concussion was very likely. Thomas grabbed his arm and yanked him up and out of the puddle that was beginning to form. He could still hear water rushing into the plane and some screaming and terrified voices. 'Oh my god, she's dead! I think mom's dead!' 'How do we get out?' 'I'm in pain! Help! Help me jesus christ!' The voices were still filling the cabin. it was quieter than before though, right before the crash. Less people were... okay, now.

                            Thomas had his arm and was yanking him towards the entrance as he half-crawled, half-swimming to get there. He pulled himself out and helped Gregory out, although Gregory was okay enough to kick slightly and force his body up and out. They were met with the cold ocean water, and Gregory quickly subverted into a normal human swimming stage, kicking his legs lightly as his arms paddled in place. He looked drearily awful, terrified, sick, and injured, like a puppy kicked too many times. It was not a normal look of the normally extremely happy-go-lucky, needy kinda guy who threw parties all the time and was super careless and worked as a host at a restaurant where he served up smiles.

                            "Shore's over there." Thomas told him, gesturing slightly with his face.

                            Gregory was gasping unevenly but nodded in response, giving a little whimper.Thomas looked calm but truthfully his heart was pounding and his brain was rushing with thoughts too quick for him to focus on and read. He didn't know what to do. He was shocked. Shocked by the plane crashing, shocked by Gregory's sudden injury and pained expression, shocked that he was paddling in the ocean and looking at the coast that was about a ten minute swim away and seeing that it was the only option available. He didn't looked shocked, but he was, and who wouldn't be? It all happened so incredulously fast, like a lightning bolt, and then his life had gone off the railroad track.

                            The two of them began to move forward.

                            Thomas took this chance to glance around, seeing some of the bodies floating and not being sure if those people were unconscious or even just flatout dead. It was horrifying, actually, seeing people floating like ragdolls with nobody around them and nobody giving them any mind. That could've been him. Thomas's face paled a little bit but he kept pressing on, using his arms heavily as his legs mostly just provided him semi-buoyancy with their lack of movement or tension. He began to notice Gregory inching closer and closer until Gregory's arm was around Thomas's neck, and he noticed the guy was gargling water, barely able to stay afloat at all, "Thomas-- thomas, I-- I can't-- do this-- I-- swallowing water--" He gargled incoherently, his voice uneven and water-logged. He was swallowing a ton of water clearly, and the glossy look in his eyes got glossier as he seemed to be fading away mentally.

                            [******** sake..."                             Thomas swore under his breath, not at Gregory but just about this situation, and then added, "Get on my back, just lean on me, do whatever helps jesus christ. Just don't start swallowing the whole pacific."

                            Gregory only seemed to grasp about half of that but he grasped the more important parts and less of the sarcasm, because he began to lean almost half of his body weight on Thomas. Thomas was now being submerged to some degree and couldn't help but get a few heaps of disgusting salty water down his throat, gagging in repulsion at the taste as some of the salt also got in his eyes and burned them. His vision blurred and his muscles in his arms were screaming in bitter anger at the mistreatment. Thomas wasn't exactly a 'built' guy-- unless he was hiding a rippling six-pack underneath his little pouch of tummy fat, but probably not. His lazy lifestyle and inactive job had led him to be very average in terms of strength., but he was also a stubborn as*hole which got him through some things in life.

                            Pushing forward, he noticed some luggage that seemed to be glowing with the shininess of holy light.

                            He quickly turned slightly, moving in that direction before finally grabbing at it with one of his hands. Lifting his head clear out of the water, he gasped for air several times, and felt even more weight pressed down on him as Gregory was slipping in and out of consciousness. The weight of his wheelchair, although condensed, was still digging into his shoulder and his clothing was wet and sticking to him, making it harder to swim smoothly due to his layers and heavy pants, "Jesus Christ." He croaked under his breath. But this luggage-- it was somewhat buoyant. And nobody would consider him stealing it.

                            So he used it without hesitating.

                            He took his wheelchair off his shoulder and shoved it in a gap in the luggage, and it stuck firm in there. It didn't weigh it down a lot, either, although it did poke out awkwardly but as long as it was firm in there, Thomas didn't care at all. He adjusted Gregory so the other man's body was almost fully reliant on him, as he could tell Gregory was more unconscious than conscious at this point. He then began to move forward, holding somewhat onto the luggage to keep the two men buoyant and then paddling violently with one arm in order to move them forward faster than a semi-fast snail. His eyes were still burning, the salt was drying out the skin on his face, and he was tired and aching, but he was moving forward and he was going to make it regardless or not if Gregory was swimming as well.

                            Eventually, he did make it to shore.

                            He pushed his body forward and collapsed in the sand momentarily, the luggage slightly in front of him. He rolled Gregory off of him and saw the man lying limp in the sand, his eyes closed as his body was motionless other than the rise and fall of his chest. Thomas exhaled slowly as he rubbed at his hair before grabbing the suitcase latch and opening it. He noticed several items but his eyes searched and immediately found a feminine-looking sweater. He grabbed the lavender sweater and ripped it, and then wrapped it around Gregory's head injury. Getting a better look of it, he could see parts of Gregory's skull and could tell that the damage was definitely brain-deep. He gulped, some sweat running down his face along with the wetness of the ocean water, but he could feel his heart sinking. Part of him was dreading the truth, but it was a truth nonetheless.

                            Gregory wasn't going to make this one.

                            Where: Island Beach | Whom: Gregory| Feeling: Shocked | Exhuasted | In denial OOC:


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Dapper Fatcat

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                            where: the island
                            who: noone in particular
                            feeling: sad, confused, worried

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                                                User ImageToday was a slow one, as she left her bakery in the morning. Although she ran it by herself, she let a friend of hers open it for six hours today, who was responsible for selling the goods she had prepared last night and the day before. She had left many other goods as well, all of which were baked with love, and of course her secret ingredient. That was one of the main reasons, if not the only reason, why she insisted her friend not bake anything while she was away on this trip. It was more of a call, a job opportunity if you will, that had been given to her rather suddenly. They were instructed to close the shop immediately once they sold out, and leave it closed upon her arrival.

                                                She wiped down the counters, polished the stove, freshened up the tables' decor, cleaned out the freezer, and basically tidied up anything else she could manage. Besides, she couldn't leave her fresh ingredients just rotting away while she gone, could she?

                                                She boarded the plane early, Dahlia being one of the first ones to arrive in first class. It was a good thing as well, as now she could be entertained by what sort of people flooded in. She could easily observe who came and sat down. Of course, if she became bored enough, she could just play on her tablet she had brought with her to play Cooking Mama for the next.. ten or so hours. How fun.

                                                After the plane lifted off, she wasn't failed to be amused of the people in her section. They all had a rich air about them, something she didn't have personally of herself. If not rich, then they had at least an interesting, mysterious appeal. How did these people exactly afford to get on board in here? Was it a job call? Was it paid for by a distant family member? How about an affair? She eyeballed each and everyone of them, before getting out of her seat, and moving out of first class.

                                                When she had arrived in the Economy class, a small dispute was taking place between two detectives, a rather tall woman, a short stubby woman, and some other sparse people sitting trying to record videos or take pictures. As she watched idly, a tall man passed by her, and intervened. He had been from first class as well. Making some minor mental notes as she always did when entering and exiting environments, she turned and made her way back to her seat, sitting quietly to herself for the next hours to come.

                                                boring timeskip

                                                Her grey eyes had been closing ever so slowly for the last few minutes that had recently passed, until the plane shook ever so slightly, followed by tremors of increasing size. She stirred to an awake and cautious state, staring around at the other passengers. She put on her seat belt, before the announcement even came on, and looked out her window.

                                                "Hello ladies and gentleman ,we are experiencing some turbulence you will now notice the seat belt sign is on. Once we are clear of the turbulence we will shut it off and you can once again move freely in the cabin."

                                                Dark clouds enshrouded her view from what was happening outside, and from her best guess, they were just passing through a storm. However, she wasn't stupid, or perhaps better put, deaf to the slight panic mixed in the captain's well-trained, professional voice. More tremors occurred, causing her to tense in her seat.

                                                And then they descended, hitting the surface of the Earth nonwhatsoever gently or delicately.

                                                She had made it to shore, every fiber of her being drenched besides the contents in her backpack. She coughed up water as she struggled to stand in the wet sand, walking to the dry area. Looking around, a good number of people were still alive, walking, crying, yelling in pain, but nonetheless, breathing. She sat down, looking out at the plane crash, her eyes trailing along the shoreline and outmore to see some bodies floating, and being brought in by the tide. She felt bad for the people who had been traveling with loved ones. If they hadn't made it in one piece with them by now, they had to either assume they were dead, trapped, or lost, or try to find them among the corpses.

                                                Many people, if not all, shared the same similar facial traits, confusion and distraught. Her face, too, carried the disdained look, as she eyeballed the sand beneath her body. She ran her hand through, combing, and picking up a seashell. It was white and spiraled, and the beauty and peculiarity of the thing distracted her for a few moments from the stressful and dreadful situation, but her mind wasn't easily pried from the elephant in the room.

                                                Where were they? Should they be working together to the common goals of trying to signal help and to survive until then? How long would it be until rescue came? Was rescue even coming?

                                                Dahlia's eye peeked over her shoulder, looking at the blond, tall woman from before, coughing, and generally giving off the vibe of wanting to be alone. Not like that was a surprise. Earlier on the plane, she hadn't seemed to friendly, even it had been just over some photos. She brought her knees in close, looking at the wreckage in the distances. Although it had been a little ways from the shore, it wasn't completely submerged under water. Probably because the water wasn't deep enough to do so. However, only the tail of plane seem to really stick out, which beckoned the question, where was the other half of the plane?

                                                Wait, "Where's my luggage?" she thought aloud, biting her lip. Although it was a bit of an insensitive question considering her surroundings, it was still an issue that bothered her. During the crash, she had clinged closely to her backpack, her mind completely forgetting about retrieving her luggage. Although, if it was still in the plane, as it probably was, she wasn't going to go get it. Or should she? Picking herself up, she began to walk slowly down the shore, observing the beach for anything familiar.

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Lonely Lover

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      "ε ℓ ℓ ι s c σ я в ε т т ε"

      ════════════════════════════════════════

      ♥...ι'м үσυя ρυρρεт...ι'ℓℓ ℓεαяη тσ ℓσvε ιт...♥
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      ѕтυpιdυglyworтнleѕѕannoyιngpoιnтleѕѕιrrιтaтιnglazyвadнιdeoυѕυnlovaвleυnworтнy
      dιѕgυѕтιngrevolтιngғaтrepυlѕιveclυeleѕѕғoolιѕнcrυelpaтнeтιcвιzzareѕтreѕѕғυlтнey'ewaтcнιngyoυellιѕтнey'rejυdgιngyoυrυnawayellιѕ
      вecaυѕeyoυĸnowιғyoυdonтмaттerтoтнeм

      yoυdonтмaттeraтall
      ════════════════════════════════════════


                            A peaceful sleep was rather rudely and suddenly jolted back into reality as Ellis felt her delicate lungs heaving madly, water slipping out of her mouth in large puddles through her teeth and over her tongue. She felt herself on her side, a grainy texture against her cheek and one of her hands, and the rest of her weighted down with soaked fabric. She could see only fragments as her vision cleared up because wet locks of blonde hair had fallen over her eyes, irritating them to a degree. She felt like a weakened wreck, and these heaving coughs weren't helping, nor the revolting salt water slipping out of her or the weird mixture of ocean-cold clothing and hot grainy sand. She shifted slightly, squinting her eyes as some sunlight bore down and she rubbed a little hair out of the way of her delicate blue eyes. She noticed two figures, one of them male and one of them female, and the male was closer to her. She coughed one more time, and asked the first thing that came to her mind,

                            "W-What's happ-ening?"

                            A reasonable question. She tried to take in more of her surrondings. She looked down and noticed her knees, a little scraped and bruised, but such a thing wasn't uncommon for her. Ellis had freakishly pale skin and so whenever she did bruise, she bruised like a banana. She gulped lightly as she felt the very heavy frabic of her skirt holding her legs down, sunk into the sand. She was on a beach? When did she end up on a beach? She tried to remember, but her memories were slipping through her fingertips, and it would take her a second to grasp them. She noticed the girl grimace a little bit and instantly some dread filled her body. Why were these people staring at her? Why was she lying down and them standing? Who were they, to her? She observed them for a moment. One of them was a rather pretty girl with dirty blonde hair and dark, revealing clothing that laced up and some stockings. The man looked rather intimidating, decorated in tattoos like a biker, made her feel slightly uneasy. Both of them did. Feeling uneasy was Ellis's default emotion to strangers.

                            The look of disdian disappeared from the woman's face as she talked, though, turning her attention to the male.

                            "Is she alright?" She now held some concern in her voice, or at least appeared to. It was very jarring from her initial reaction from seeing the dainty Ellis-- was she faking concern? It wouldn't be surprising considering Ellis just naturally figured nobody cared about her. Then, something else occurred to her. Where was she last? Then, slowly, it occurred to her. It happened in disjointed, out-of-order screenshots that eventually flipped together to create a story. The luggage. The plane. Elizabeth's messy drawings. Her Employer. The sudden screaming. A lot of it was still heavily blurred and she forgot many details, particularly of what just happened recently-- but it was coming back to her, and worry filled a huge pit in her tummy as some color drained from her face. Her eyebrows furrowed and she suddenly seemed to be at a loss, a desperate look in those cornflower blue eyes of hers, "Do either of you-- have either of you seen the two children who were with me? Fletcher and Elizabeth?"

                            Where: Island | Whom: Strangers | Feeling: Sick | Uneasy | Confused OOC:


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Laybunny's Husband

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"Terror is coursing in me,Dreading the final moments,When I have to dream,And feel you die,Death inside of me keeps a diligent watch on everything.Keeps a terrible hold on my belief.Just waiting for the moment when I..."
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-Drews Little doll / Its Alive!

Vincent had finally got his barrings on the beach he had not strolled to far from the girl he had pulled out of the plane and Hazel. His eyes shifted out over the water looking at what little of the plane he could see but that was not what drew his eyes initially it was large black clouds slowly making their way towards the island. It was possibly the storm that had brought the plane down but it also meant rain and already being soaked it would not help their situation at all.
Now he began to glance up and down the beach looking at the bodies and debris that were washing a shore clearly they had been lucky to escape with their lives.Soon noise came from the girl he had saved as he slowly moved back towards the water bending down a bit as she spoke so he could hear her over the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore and all the background yelling other survivors were doing.
''W-What's happ-ening?Do either of you-- have either of you seen the two children who were with me? Fletcher and Elizabeth?''
Vincent watched the frightened little Ellis and spoke softly as if he was talking to a child.
" The plane we were on crashed , We are on some type of land forum I am not sure if its an island or not but its probably safe to say it is. As for the kids that were with you they got out before I had got to you so I am unsure where they are but with as many people that got out i'd say they might be with one of them." He gave her a small smile as he stood up adjusting his bag over his shoulder.

-Time To survive

Vincent Glanced to Hazel looking her over a bit she seemed fine guess him tending to her to keep her calm during the crash worked though do to him looking at her he was not able to brace himself well enough not to get rocked around. This was a problem because he knew very well the pain that was going on in his head at this time. A small concussion. It could always of been worse like death or heavy brain damage so that being said luck had been on his side.
" Hey Im going to go look for some shelter that storm is coming in quick" He turned looking over the sea before to Hazel and the small doll Ellis " If you two want to come hurry up grab what you can carry and follow me." He would not give the two much time as he began to walk down the beach in search of a small piece of jagged debris it'd take him no time to find one about eight inches long with a very sharp point a little bit of work he could make a nice weapon to defend himself and the girls. Spinning it in his hand a few times he put it inside his jacket tucking it away.
Vincent would stay on the beach in different circumstances because of the supplies but he knew the storm would be dangerous. So they'd move inland some to have shelter of the trees.

- Its almost as good as home

After about thirty or so minutes Vincent found what he had been looking for a shelter that'd hold a few people comfortably. But before he'd call it home he'd search for snakes or any dangerous spiders hiding out inside their shelter.
Taking off his jacket and back pack he tossed them outside of the opening of the shelter. Before turning his attention to the girls " It's going to rain soon so try to ring out your cloths as best as you can I'll have a fire going soon " He said as he began to move about getting lose dry wood from around the tree piling it in front of the entrance of the tree getting a good sized fire pit together before pulling free his shoe lace creating himself a bow and drill to start the fire. After a little bit of time smoke began to below up and then flame. Tending to the fire a bit until it was good by itself he could feel his cloths drying. Staying near he sat outside the shelter next to the fire feeding it more logs just to keep the fire strong in case the rain hit this area hard but with the foliage over head.



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"Supposed to be happy, but I'm only getting colder
Wear a smile on my face, but there's a demon inside"
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Lonely Lover

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      "нαzεℓ мαяιε "

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      It doesn't matter if you want it back. You've given it away.
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      This isn't a brave face. This isn't a brave face.
      This is a mask.
      ════════════════════════════════════════



                            "You were not bad yourself sexy. A shame we only have the plane ride to play."
                            "Come here."

                            Hazel had been comfortable and in a pretty decent sleep for awhile. She would flicker into consciousness for a few seconds sometimes as a flight attendant rolled by or some loud chatter occurred nearby, but most of the plane ride she was in a very blissful, lazy state which allowed her to slip into sleep quite nicely. She enjoyed the feeling of leaning against Vincent and the warmth he emitted, making him much more comfortable than a rigid plane seat cover. An announcement rang overheard but she barely heard it. Something about the seat belt sign being on. She couldn't care less.

                            BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

                            Hazel was rudely jolted out of her peaceful slumber to an array of crazed, fear-inducing stimuli. Screaming filled the cabin along with an overbearing booming noise, and gas masks dropped down seemingly from nowhere. Hazel didn't even have the chance to blink before Vincent was helping her, putting her mask on her face as she lifted her hands to do it herself, but he had already assisted her. She looked to him as he did it for himself, and noticed his hand had crawled over and grabbed her hand, and he was... smiling? Hazel may have been somewhat still stuck in a sleep-induced state, but her adrenaline was still pumping and her body was very aware of the immediate danger that surrounded them. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then simply squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say.

                            As the plane collided, Hazel was kept relatively safe although she could see Vincent getting rocked fairly hard as he smacked his head against the seats. Luckily, he was still awake and undid Hazel's belt before his own. Hazel's heart was pounding hard in her chest and sweat was appearing on her skin-- or was that some of the salt water that the filling the cabin? What a disaster. Nobody could ever picture ocean water inside of a plane cabin, but here it was, a scene in front of her for her to view fully. It was then Vincent swam free with her, saving someone else in the process. Hazel was glancing around at her surroundings, feeling the cold ocean water seeping right through her dark clothing, and feeling particularly icy around her exposed naval area. She was glad she was wearing boots and not heels, although her boots were still getting water-logged and feeling quite a bit uncomfortable.

                            Within a ten minute swim, they made it to the beach. Vincent had backpacked a woman Hazel did not recognize. He placed her on the ground and began trying to resurrect her with chest compressions. Hazel ignored this as she cupped her arms around eachother and eyeballed the rest of the beach. She noticed a few other bodies of people and some washed away plane parts and luggage, but much to her lack of security, she didn't see any signs of hope, like a street, a building, a resort for tourists.This place, or at least this beach, seemed rather desolate. Her thoughts were broken through by some grotesque coughs as she looked down as the girl on the ground was heaving, lungs desperate for oxygen,

                            "W-What's happ-ening?"

                            Hazel furrowed her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes slightly at the girl, still crossing her arms. She was taking in this person. She seemed fairly innocent, but the fact she had a certain innocent cuteness to her and a doll-like demeanor was slightly intimidating. She held her tongue, but she really wanted to respond with what she was thinking: 'What's happening is you were going to die and he saved you so show some thanks, why don't you?' But she held her tongue. She didn't need to say that now, not in front of Vincent, not in this situation where her livelihood was still on the line and she didn't know what her nearby future would hold. So she asked a simple question to Vincent, "Is she alright?" But the woman spoke before Vincent could reply.

                            "Do either of you-- have either of you seen the two children who were with me? Fletcher and Elizabeth?''
                            "The plane we were on crashed. We are on some type of land forum I am not sure if its an island or not but its probably safe to say it is. As for the kids that were with you they got out before I had got to you so I am unsure where they are but with as many people that got out i'd say they might be with one of them."

                            Vincent gave a look yonder before adding,

                            "Hey I'm going to go look for some shelter that storm is coming in quick. If you two want to come hurry up grab what you can carry and follow me." Hazel spoke up quickly, "Sure thing." She stared out of the corner of her eyes at Ellis, who held an uneasy look on her face as she glanced worriedly from Hazel to Vincent. Of course Hazel hadn't the slightest clue as to what was on this stranger's mind, but she figured she was conflicted about following two absolute strangers. Figures. She didn't say anything as she simply followed close behind Vincent. The stranger woman in the skirt, although with hunched shoulders and a conflicted expression, did slowly and gradually step along and follow. Hazel felt a pit of mild resentment in her tummy, but she of course said nothing-- she was insecure about having another woman on this little team same as she was always insecure when women were around. She needed male attention and competition was competition and therefore a danger to her emotionally. It was why she had no female friends and generally was distrusting and aloof towards them.

                            After about a half hour of walking, Vincent seemed to decide on a shelter.

                            "It's going to rain soon so try to ring our your clothes as best as you can. I'll have a fire going soon." He then began to build a fire, trying to tend to it to make the flame large enough to be worthwhile. Hazel turned slightly as she grabbed the bottom of her lace-up crop top and wrung it, and some water split out, but the fabric wasn't very thick or long and therefore it dried rather quickly. She noticed Ellis, on the other hand, wearing about six thousand layers of heavy fabric probably intended for women over the age of eighty who got cold easily. Hazel took off her boots and wrung them and got some of the water off. The water sticking to her feet had really been bothering her.

                            Once Vincent was done with the fire, she quickly moved over to it and adjusted herself.

                            "Thanks, Vincent." She said quietly to him for the fire and shelter and well... basically everything. It was really considerate of him. She recognized the two of them did some scandalous activities on the plane, but that didn't mean he owed her anything nor did she. She had done a lot of sexual things with a lot of men and a great majority of them were purely pleased with separating the act from any kind of string of emotion, fate, or friendship. A little smiled curled on her face as she felt her palms warm, "It feels... really nice." She bit her inner lip as something began to dawn on her. She looked at the man's direction-- gosh, he was cute-- but she was able to subside those thoughts, for the moment, anyways. She brought up an idea,

                            "Did you notice the stuff washing up to shore? Maybe we could go back to the shore and see if any luggage washed up."

                            Part of her was also wondering how long this would play out. Would rescuers be here soon? Night would fall over them and she was thankful for the shelter, but she didn't want this for very long. She wanted to go see her grandparents and make up all those lies to them like she planned, but maybe some part of her also wanted to go just so she could see them, to convince them that she was really trying to succeed in life and she was their sweet granddaughter and everything was peachy...even though her life had been a wreck for years, and none of that summery gibberish was the slightest bit true.

                            Where: Forest, 30 min from beach| Whom: Vincent, Woman | Feeling: Thinking | A little sad OOC: What is in Hazel's luggage and her outfit


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Lonely Lover

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      "ε ℓ ℓ ι s c σ я в ε т т ε"

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      ♥...ι'м үσυя ρυρρεт...ι'ℓℓ ℓεαяη тσ ℓσvε ιт...♥
      - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -
      ѕтυpιdυglyworтнleѕѕannoyιngpoιnтleѕѕιrrιтaтιnglazyвadнιdeoυѕυnlovaвleυnworтнy
      dιѕgυѕтιngrevolтιngғaтrepυlѕιveclυeleѕѕғoolιѕнcrυelpaтнeтιcвιzzareѕтreѕѕғυlтнey'ewaтcнιngyoυellιѕтнey'rejυdgιngyoυrυnawayellιѕ
      вecaυѕeyoυĸnowιғyoυdonтмaттerтoтнeм

      yoυdonтмaттeraтall
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                            "The plane we were on crashed. We are on some type of land form I am not sure if its an island or not but its probably safe to say it is. As for the kids that were with you they got out before I had got to you so I am unsure where they are but with as many people that got out i'd say they might be with one of them."

                            This was a lot to process at once.

                            She only blinked a few times as she tried to digest the heavy plate of information she was just spoon fed. A plane crashed. Some kind of land form. Children had gotten out. May be with someone else. Ellis felt her head spinning a little as she tried to process it all, and she barely even heard the strange man's followup comment, "Hey I'm going to go look for some shelter that storm is coming in quick. If you two want to come hurry up grab what you can carry and follow me." "Sure thing."

                            The man began to head down the beach along with the female, and Ellis slowly-- shakily-- arose to her feet like a newborn lamb, stumbling a little bit on wobbly ankles.

                            She felt her head spinning still and a dreary feeling of worry and apprehension forming a dark pit in her tummy, yet physically-- for the most part-- she was okay. Some scrapes and bruises but nothing life-threatening or worth going to a hospital over. She gradually began to follow them, step by step, not sure where she was going and what she was doing. She needed to form some kind of plan, but her head was achy and her mind was askew.

                            'I need to find Fletcher and Elizabeth. And maybe The Employer. Maybe he's with them. I hope so.'

                            She cupped her pale hand against her heart and then eyeballed it, eyeballing the prints and crevices and few cuts on her hand. She was drowning in worry for the children, which momentarily distracted her from her anxiety about traveling with strangers. She eyeballed the two in front of her. Should she keep going with them? Should she leave? She didn't want to be alone, but being with them, thinking that they were judging her or might hurt her or-- 'Oh my gosh. What is happening right now? What am I doing?'

                            They began to turn into the forest and soon some time passed, perhaps thirty minutes or so.

                            The man had discovered a shelter out of a hollow tree and spoke up, breaking the silence that had been mostly shared between the three. "It's going to rain soon so try to ring our your clothes as best as you can. I'll have a fire going soon." Ellis eyeballed her heavy skirt and countless layers and tried to wring them out, but it would be a long while before her clothing would dry. She eyeballed as the woman got near the fire and thanked the man with the tattoos, "Thanks, Vincent." It dawned on Ellis that she was actually really unaware of these two. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn't really spoken to them at all, and just figured out the male's name. She frowned, wondering if she was being impolite, and then eyeballed her mary janes. She then sat down, not anywhere near the fire or the other two, but like a sulking child on the outside. 'I need a plan.' She told herself again. She needed one. She couldn't mooch off them and she was sure they'd rather be without her, but she couldn't really bring herself to be a social butterfly serving up smiles either. 'There has to be a way I can find Fletcher and Elizabeth and leave these two alone. They're going to get tired of babysitting me soon anyways and I don't want to face that.'

                            "Did you notice the stuff washing up to shore? Maybe we could go back to the shore and see if any luggage washed up."

                            Ellis's mind flashed to her luggage. She mostly had clothing and some yarn and sewing supplies in it-- not much in terms of value, but the nanny didn't own much. She wrapped her knees up against her torso and wrapped her arms around said knees, resting her head on her chin a little bit. Her luggage was probably floating in the ocean somewhere now, along with Elizabeth's and Fletcher's. She gulped slightly, feeling a strain on her throat as she really didn't want to cry now. But she couldn't even speak she was so distracted and worried and at a loss. She avoided eye contact with the two and just eyeballed the fire, the flames flickering madly and without reason, crackling.

                            Where: Island, Nearby Hollow tree Shelter | Whom: Strangers | Feeling: Sad | Worried | Anxious OOC: I'll post again with Thomas after you two get a post in ♥


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"Terror is coursing in me,Dreading the final moments,When I have to dream,And feel you die,Death inside of me keeps a diligent watch on everything.Keeps a terrible hold on my belief.Just waiting for the moment when I..."
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- Rain rain go AWAY! You already crashed the plane....
The wind had began to pick up the storm was getting close, due to the foliage they had taken shelter under the rain that'd come would have a hard time getting to them plus with their fire warming and drying out their cloths it'd be nice to dry out and be warm for a short time.
Vincent took off his muscle shirt exposing his naked body to them as he wrung out the salt water before sitting the shirt on his jacket near the fire to dry. His eyes shifted to Hazel who spoke. "Did you notice the stuff washing up to shore? Maybe we could go back to the shore and see if any luggage washed up"
How could he not have noticed all the things washing a shore. In a survival situation he would of grabbed stuff right away and began to look for food. In this case he wanted to get dry and out of the soon coming storm.
" Ya I noticed it " He said calmly as he adjusted himself a bit on a root he had been sitting. " I planned on going out after I got the fire up and going" He slowly pushed himself up stretching a bit moving past the two females " You two watch the fire there should be enough wood gathered to keep it going. Ill go grab a bag or two maybe find something to eat." He turned and moved back towards his jacket pulling free the jagged metal piece of the plane putting it in his belt loop he couldn't forget that his just in case. He looked to Ellis " Hey girl if tell me what your bag looked like i'll grab it no use of you coming with me and getting soaked too." he waited for her to explain it looking to Hazel as well flashing her a small smile and wink. " What about yours Hazel? " He waited for her to explain and take his leave the two behind in the dry warm shelter.

-Back to the beach
Vincent stepped fourth from the tree line back to the beach glancing up and down the shore again at the carnage. ' This ******** sucks' he thought his eyes shifting back and fourth there was still people sitting near loved ones some dead some moving. No one really seemed together as much as him at least none he really noticed at this time. Was it because he had always mentally prepared for a situation like this? or was it just there was two others that'd need him as their support either way he had a mission. Their bags , plus what ever else he could carry and maybe a small meal to give them energy and a moral boost to the girls.
On top of all this he'd keep an eye out for the two kids the female had been caring for on the plane he had their names , he kind of remembered what they sounded like and aside from that not like there be many kids on the island.

-Tick tock
After a while of searching he had found bags that fit their descriptions. It only took wadding through the water checking bags that had not fully washed up on the shore. Wading in the water he watched his feet for any movement other then himself. Noticing sea critters moving about he reached down taking out the make shift shank stabbing it into the critter. A small crunch could be felt as he pulled up a rather large crab that he had impaled.
One thing he knew for sure was food would be in plenty around the beach what they'd lack in due time was fresh water. Now walking out of the sea he slung the gathered bags over his shoulders as well as another book bag that had washed a shore stuffing the crab in the front empty pouch and began to make his way back to the girls.

-Home sweet home
Dropping off the two bags while holding the book bag he made his way back towards his dry cloths sitting near the fire letting himself once again dry off. He glanced too the girls seeing if he had grabbed the right bags " Those are yours right?" he said had only going off what'd they explained to him.
Pulling out the large crab he sat it on the fire to cook it. "Also found something to eat while I grabbed those bags from the water." he gave a small smile as he'd tend to the cooking crab.
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"Supposed to be happy, but I'm only getting colder
Wear a smile on my face, but there's a demon inside"
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                                                                                                                    In darkness of the night ⇢ I spied him in a tree ⇢ Sat I froze by the sight ⇢ He was looking at me


                                                                                          The angel of death at his kill tab The angel of death at his kill tab The angel of death at his kill tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab tab The angel of death at his kill tab The angel of death at his kill tab The angel of death at his kill


                                                                          ＴＨＥ ＳＰＬＩＴ ＩＭＡＧＥ ＯＦ ＭＥ ㄨ ＴＨＥ ＯＴＨＥＲ ＨＡＬＦ ＯＦ ＭＹ ＷＩＬＬ




                                                                    When he first gotten the call, he had thought it was a joke. That was until, he saw it on the news. Leaked images of the bust had shown the woman covered in blood from head to toe, and the man she had killed pale and dismembered. It was rather sick, more especially so for a woman that claimed she did her business stickily as that, business. His blue eyes spaced out slightly, as he stood in the glass elevator as it took him to the ground floor, still imagining what the scene had looked like.

                                                                    He had known her for a while. He knew how careful she was, and how careful her employer was also. His mind slightly wondered who had gotten him to rat. Although the rumor, out of many that were quickly spreading around in the industry, was a detective from Washington D.C. had paid him a hefty amount of money, anyone could have done that. He also humored to himself mentally of what a lot of good that money did to him in the three hours he had it. Another thought passed through his mind, as he questioned who would ever be idiotic enough to cross a hitman, or in this case, a hitwoman, nonetheless one working for a criminal organization.

                                                                    "Mortifer?"

                                                                    He turned his body to the rather plump man beside him, holding a box with his insignia "ℳ.ℱ." on the cover. "You said the green button, right?" "Yes," he answered coldly, before turning his head to look out the glass again. "Unless you want to be scratching your eyes out while they bleed from your skull, it is the green button." The elevator dinged as it hit the first floor, causing the tall man to exit. "Until we meet again," he said, giving a slight nod, before exiting.

                                                                    The job offer was even more surprising than the news. He could still hear the pleading tone of Don DeSimone, begging him to look after his poor, little baby Marilynn. His eyes rolled slightly, remembering how he tried to reason with the upset man. 'She was arrested, yes, but she will be okay. She is not a child. She knows how to take care of herself. Wait until they come back to America when they are about to begin the trials, then I will happily escort her back into your custody.' However, when he heard his reasoning, he understood why the man was so worried about his skillful bodyguard. She wasn't valuable to just cops, but to competitors as well.

                                                                    Boarding the plane, he moved to first class, and putting his luggage in the compartment above him. It slid in smoothly, not bumping into any other bags that would be probably crowded in the other classes. Sitting down in his seat, he opened a book and began to read. He waited for a bit after they lifted off, waiting for some flight attendant to come by so he could get a water. After waiting long enough, he got up, and walked to the other section of the plane. However, as he entered the Economy area, a small smile couldn't help to form on his face as the rather small, stout woman was trying to confront her, Marilynn. Even in handcuffs she showed defiance, her hotheadedness getting the best of her, and as she stood she couldn't helped to be seen as some kind of breathing metaphor about how a bad temper could create clashing dilemmas with authority. He stepped in, towering over the short woman, and standing a bit, if not barely, over Mari too. Eyeballing the detectives, he took quick mental notes of the targets he would be eliminating when they landed. The one on the left was a bit red and swollen in the face, and his eyes were a bit red. Possible heart problems? He had a chemical, if not many, for that. The one on the right, on the other hand, seemed fit and younger. Probably a rookie detective.

                                                                    "Sir. I need to ask you both to return to your seats. The person in our custody isn't consenting to any photos, and any pictures, videos, or media will be confiscated if needed." His blue eyes looked at the men dully. He hadn't even approached them with any media-capturing device in hand, but he supposed from circumstance they were paranoid for anything to go wrong. Partially, that paranoia existed out of their fault. They shouldn't have transported her in the more crowded, affordable class. But, then again, money wouldn't have held back those looking for bounty, especially not the better ones.

                                                                    After the scene ended, he returned to his seat after getting himself a water, keeping to himself, and opening up his book again.

                                                                    one lengthy Russian book later

                                                                    Many people had been dozing or beginning to doze when they had been caught in the rather random and frightful storm. He hadn't, although he was tired. The plane shook and rocked, making him tense slightly from every sudden, growing bump. Even when the announcement came on, it only made him more tense, putting on his seat belt, putting his book aside, and--

                                                                    BOOOOOOOM

                                                                    The airmasks fell down, and Mortifer wasted no time with putting it on. When the plane began to dip, a man sitting in front of him a few seats in front turned around, giving him a look of extreme worry. He made eye contact with him, as his stomach begin to slightly knot up as if going over the hill of a roller coaster, but loosened some when his book that he had set aside went flying and smacked the man in the face. But, that wasn't what ignited the laughter as they were crashing. No, it was the irony of it all.

                                                                    Loud, maniacal laughter spilled out of the Russian man as they began to descend, one hand gripping the seat in front of him, the other putting pressure on his stomach. Before he had boarded the plane, he had done research and investigated all the people on board with a record of some sort, or ties, and had done many tedious and tiring phone calls. Out of the two-hundred and twelve people who were expected to board today, thirty-three people had bought the remaining tickets to squeeze on this flight at the last moment, causing the plane to fly at its fullest capacity. Those same thirty-three people, stated by the phone calls he had made, all had confirmed if not suspected ties with either various crime organizations, independents, and some vigilante groups. And those were just their ties, not even mentioning what type of people they were. The plane was a god damn criminal cocktail, plus the only evidence they had gotten on Marilynn was on board, and it was all going to hit the surface of the Earth and inevitably be destroyed. Probably burst into flames and their bodies incinerated like some massive cremation ceremony.

                                                                    "HAHAHAHAHA."

                                                                    le crash

                                                                    The plane hurdled forward as it hit the surface, but surprisingly, after loud crackling of snapping branches and loud screaming, they had survived. Well, at least some had.

                                                                    Looking around the plane, he sat in his seat, almost unconscious, as he noticed the dead bodies hanging in their seats, only staying in place and not falling frontward because of their seat belts. After a minute, he shook his head, sitting up and looking around. The front part of their section had been crushed and torn to shreds, but had faltered the impact, and probably was what had kept them alive, minus the broken various tropical trees they had smashed. He turned around, looking over his shoulder, to see the entire other part of the plane was missing, leaving the metal tube exposed and vulnerable to the outside world. Unbuckling his belt, he stood up, to notice the plane was leaning forward, causing him to lean on the seats in front of him. He opened the compartment above him, grabbing his luggage, and walking off balanced out the rather large gap from the absent section.

                                                                    What he saw, had not only proven him wrong, but surprised him. As he had made it to the beach nearby, he had located the other part of the plane, noticing the tail jetting out of the water. He swallowed hard, squinting into the sun, and taking in the scene. Many people had survived, although he saw some of the dead bodies floating a little ways from the shore. Moving down the shore, is when he saw her. He approached Marilynn, standing in front of her and blocking the sun from your face. "You survived," he began, "That is nice." She stayed quiet, coughing some, looking up to him. "The storm that caught us in the plane is going to get here soon. We need to get a shelter going," he continued. "You want us to stick together?" "For now." She nodded, before grabbing the locked suitcase and standing up. "You see where the other part of the plane landed?" "I just came from it. It is not too far from here," Mortifer began to walk into the treeline, Marilynn following close behind. "We're going there?" "Of course not," he cackled. "You are a walking target right now. The remnants of the plane is the first place they're going to look for you." "They?" "People after the bounty that you offer. You are going for a very high price, you know that right?"

                                                                    "Oh, ********. I hadn't even thought about that."
                                                                    "Well, you have plenty of time to think about it while we are on the island."

                                                                    After several minutes of walking, the spotted a rather dark looking cave, that was the size of a classroom inside. Mortifer sent Marilynn inside, asking if there was any sign of danger, but found none. Soon, they gathered nearby wood, and he made a fire, allowing light and warmth inside. They sat down sitting across from each other, staying somewhat quiet, as he sharpened a sturdy long stick into some sort of spear from a small pocketknife he had brought with him. "I saw a nearby stream not too far from here. Maybe a river if we follow it upstream far enough. You can wash your clothes out when the storm passes and it's warm out again," Marilynn nodded, but remained oddly quiet, as she had the entire time. It was an unusual thing for her, as he had known her for her smart comebacks. She only let out coughs, which were less violent than when he had first seen her, but still present. "Let me see your eyes," he said sternly. After a few moments hesitation, she removed the glasses, and revealed the swollen, crimson tinged eyes. He kept a straight face, before questioning, "Have you had all your vaccines?" "Yeah, I think so." Again, silence passed over them.

                                                                    "How did you get the knife on board?"
                                                                    "I have many contacts. You should know that."

                                                                    Another moment of silence.

                                                                    "I'll be back."
                                                                    "Where are you going?"
                                                                    "Going to see what wildlife is here."

                                                                    Although she didn't really want to be left alone, because of what he said earlier and a rather random bout of sadness curled within her, Marilynn wasn't going to stop him, as he was the only knowledgeable one that seemed to really have a plan between the two of them.

                                                                    ＊ WHERE [plane | island]
                                                                    ✶ WHO [people on board | marilynn]
                                                                    ＊ OOC NOTES [newnewnew]
                                                                    ✶ TRANSLATIONS [none]

Lonely Lover

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      "T̲̅ʜ̲̅ᴏ̲̅ᴍ̲̅ᴀ̲̅s̲̅ ̲̅W̲̅ɪ̲̅ʟ̲̅ʜ̲̅ᴏ̲̅ᴜ̲̅ɴ̲̅ᴅ̲̅"

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      I lost my ignorance, security, and pride...
      ✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕ - ✖ - ✗ - ✘ -✕
      I believed you: Your promises and lies.
      ════════════════════════════════════════

                            He stared at Gregory for a few moments longer before turning away.

                            He grabbed the luggage and shifted it, then propping his wheelchair in the sand and expanding it to it's normal size. He strapped the luggage on the back of the wheelchair carefully, making sure it could stay balanced before turning his attention back to Gregory, "C'mon, we're gonna--" Suddenly, he felt a strange pit of pain in his tummy. It felt like a burning sensation that built up, until suddenly Thomas hurled in the sand right next to where he was sitting, his eyes teary from the sudden vomit of salt water, "Awww. s**t." He swore, rubbing some of the water off his lips as that disgusting salty taste had returned to him. He ran a hand through his hair as a stressed look overcame him as he realized how thirsty he was beginning to feel. He turned back to the luggage and unzipped it, shuffling through some clothing and little snacks until he found a water bottle. He grabbed it eagerly only to find it was very light in his hand... too light. It was empty.

                            'Are you kidding me?'

                            He returned it back, giving up for now as he adjusted his body to get back into the wheelchair. Once he propped himself into the wheelchair, soggy clothing and sand ridden pants and all, he returned his attention to his wounded comrade. He grabbed Gregory from underneath his armpits and hoisted him up he was lying on his lap like a limp rag doll. Gregory fidgeted slowly, still showing signs of life, although he furrowed his eyebrows in pain and said nothing. A pit of dread was in Thomas's tummy but he ignored it. It was time to keep going on. Looking ahead, he saw some luggage and a few... bodies... he was kind of ignoring, but the mental image of people lying motionless in the sand with some red coloration and waves constantly brushing up against them had already burned into Thomas's retinas and therefore his memory. He gulped lightly, and pushed forward. The wheelchair, although very wet and something sand-lodged, was working because of the concrete position of the wet sand. It was likely once they got to dry sand, it would be a different story, and Thomas would spend more time crawling or at least struggling with the stubborn wheels of his chair.

                            He kept on moving as steadily as possible.

                            Gregory's weight was holding him back slightly, making him slower, but the actual push forward wasn't terrible. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but something hopeful. Some living people. Some more luggage. Maybe a sidewalk or road that lead to some form of civilization where he could find a hospital. Anything of that matter. Soon about a half hour had passed with little to no change, and it was beginning to get cloudy and darker. He didn't know what time it was, but it was probably evening, around 4:00 or 5:00pm. Gregory shuffled periodically but had ceased speech or other movements. Some of his blood had sept through Thomas's pant leg and got on parts of his chair, but the bleeding was at least slowing down due to the ripped lavender sweater wrapped firmly around Gregory's big head. 'There doesn't seem to be anything on the beach. And... not like I know much about survival, but,' He eyeballed the sky with squinted eyes and saw the clouds forming, beginning to block out rays of light, '... Shelter doesn't sound like a bad idea. And I'm not going to find any here.' He eyeballed the nearby shrubbery that lead into a forestry area. Shades of green, brown, and tan were all clustered over there.

                            He turned his wheelchair and moved forward, and instantly--

                            sscCCREEESSDSSCHCHHHHHHHHHHH.

                            A loud, annoying scream emitted from his wheelchair as the concrete texture was gone and sand was beginning to get lodged up in the wheels. Gregory's face looked pained-- had he heard it, or was he just in pain from the head wound? Thomas couldn't tell, but his head was definitely suffering. The dehydration and vomiting from earlier was beginning to give him a headache, and the loud annoying screech had only furthered his exasperation. "Great." He muttered sarcastically, "I fall off a ******** plane and it's gonna be sand that kills me." That wasn't how it was going to be though. He'd push forth, of course, because that was just how he was. He began to struggle, shoving his wheels forward even through the wheels cried and fought him with screeches and awkward turns and straight-out refusing to budge at times. Thomas had only gotten a yard or two before he figured there was an easier solution to this.

                            He sat down, condensed the chair, and began to drag himself and Gregory by crawling.

                            He made it over to the foresty shrub and left his chair and Gregory there, lying on some dirty forest flooring. He then crawled back, grabbed the luggage, and hoisted himself and the heavier luggage forward. By the time he had everything by the forest's entrance, he was quite exhausted, and even more dehydrated than before. He put his hand on his forehead, feeling sweat rolling down as he was breathing heavily. A low croak emerged from Gregory's lips. Thomas rubbed at his face in a stressful manner before forcing his head to turn and look at the grotesque, pitiful mess Gregory was in, "What?" The other man shuffled uncomfortably on the ground before pressing a hand into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He lifted it limply above his head and eventually yanked out a picture. He plopped his hand limply back on the ground, and said nothing. Thomas stared at him in a baffled manner as if wondering how he was supposed to take these actions. He looked down at the picture in Gregory's hand.

                            The picture was an old one, and it was of Gregory and his two little cousins.

                            They were posed in front of a fence, presumably in front of his cousin's house. The two little girls were on either side of Gregory and had huge, confident grins. One of them had a Popsicle and one of them had an ice cream cone, and Gregory seemed to be laughing a huge hearty, natural life. It appeared to be a summer day.

                            "Why are you showing me this... ?" Thomas muttered, blankly, but he knew the reason, deep down, somewhere, in that pit.

                            "I love them..."
                            "I would think so. They are your cousins."
                            "I'm so sorry..."
                            "For what?"
                            "Dragging you out here... it's my fault... isn't it?"
                            Thomas was silent.
                            "Can you tell them I'm sorry too?"
                            More silence.
                            "I need them to know that..."
                            Thomas looked down.
                            "I'll never ask anything of you again... you can be alone in your apartment forever. I won't even call you or text you, nothing."
                            Thomas bit the inside of his mouth. He couldn't say anything.
                            "Thank you, Thomas..."

                            ~ Small Timeskip ~

                            Thomas had wandered slightly more into the forest, but not by a lot. He was perhaps five minutes within the forest before he pulled to a stop, putting the luggage against a tree. There wasn't shelter, but he was exhausted, and it was getting late, and he figured he had enough clothing to be warm and he could sleep in the luggage or use it as partial shelter if situations got dire enough. He grabbed Gregory's body gingerly and pushed it against a neighboring tree, but it was out of eyeshot from where Thomas was going to stay. He inhaled, then exhaled, feeling a lot of his strength leave with that exhale as this had been a long day. He then noticed the huge piles of leaves, dirt, and clutter that had fallen from the heavy foliage above, and some idea formed in his mind. Thomas grabbed some of the larger amounts of forest clutter and began to cover Gregory's body. Eventually, Gregory's body was completely covered in large leaves and could only be seen from certain angles. It wasn't a burial, but it was... something Thomas could manage at the time, and he was going to do something.

                            He moved back to where the luggage was, and got out of his chair for the thousandth time that day.

                            He propped the chair up against the tree and collapsed against the luggage like a stuffed animal. He couldn't keep going on. He'd have to sleep. There wasn't another option as he had worn himself out physically more than he could've even imagined possible. "Jesus Christ..." He muttered under his breath, overwhelmed, alone, dehydrated, at a loss.

                            Where: Island, 5 minutes into forest | Whom: Alone | Feeling: Shock | Dehydrated | Exhuasted | Sadness OOC:


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Laybunny's Husband

Dangerous Lunatic

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::No one wants to die.
Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there.
And yet death is the destination we all share.
No one has ever escaped it.::
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:: Tommy Jay Collins ::
T.Jay


:: Now boarding ::
The bustling of the morning commuters in the airport began to board their flights in order they were called. An older lady in a pan suit turned to a small child who was sitting in the seat next to her "Alright Tommy were going to get on the plane soon. Then in a little while we will be to your new foster family." A social worker taking another unfortunate circumstance off to a new country and home. The small red haired child looked up at the worker and nodded " Otay Miss Clifford " his voice was a dull whisper at best obviously he was a shy quite boy.
The women smiled a bit " Good boy" she said as she pulled out her cell phone and began to text a fellow co-worker.
" Omg Gina , I so don't want to fly 15 hours with this kid. I mean he's not even my case. At least the boy does not talk and ask stupid question he just plays with those dumb hand puppets of his. Those things give me the creeps. I mean it was tragic what happened to his family I mean both murdered while he slept in his room. Like seriously he was lucky the murderer left him. But why am I being punished by taking him across the world to this new family. I mean why couldn't they pick him up?!? like seriously. "
The texting went on for a while as the small boy sat there quietly watching the other kids talking to their nanny. They seemed so happy and spoiled how he wanted to go over and play with them and their nanny but he knew he had to be a good boy. Soon they boarded the plane with the others falling in line like cattle marching off into the tin coffin.

:: Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom ::
The flight was boring for the young boy after all he could not run about and play with the spoiled kids. But soon it would become more interesting as the pilots voice came over the PA :
"Hello ladies and gentleman ,we are experiencing some turbulence you will now notice the seat belt sign is on. Once we are clear of the turbulence we will shut it off and you can once again move freely in the cabin." These words would be interrupted by the event that'd unfold and bring the plane crashing back to earth. As the plane hit and filled with water the women braced herself breaking her legs and arms but managed to unbuckled her belt washing a shore with the child.


:: Play with me?::
Pain,death and agony filled the beach. Mangled corpses washing up onto the shore. The scene was straight out of a horror movie. There air was filled with the scent of ocean that held a very strong iron smell that was being washed away from the salty air. Cry's could still be heard up and down the beach. Along with humming.
A small red headed child of no more then ten sat in the sand surrounded by corpses at first glance you might of over looked him except his humming would cause you to take a second glance since the tune was happy. Upon closer inspection the young boy was building himself a sand castle and sitting next to him were two little hand puppets of a boy and girl.
Then a females voice came from the puppet.
"You're a good boy Tommy It was smart of you to use that women as a cushion so we could escape any damage"
"Yes Tommy you're a lucky little boy,thankfully the plane was struck by that storm or else we would of been doomed to that new foster family." This voice came from the male puppet that sat next to the small boy who they called Tommy who was building the castle still humming away.
" Tommy would not mind a new mommy and daddy to play with " said the one know as Tommy said slowly standing picking up the puppets placing them on his hands. They stood there looking down at the climbing tide and their castle. The castle covered the head of a corpse that laid ninety percent in the water.
" Good job Tommy very artistic " The female puppet said as it tilted its head towards him as if it were watching him. The male doll turned and nodded " Yes very nice " he said as Tommy turned away and began to walk down the beach " Well lets go find someone else to play with us " he said skipping down the beach humming a bit before stopping turning to the castle victim "Good bye miss Clifford" he smiled widely and continued down the beach.



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::The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces.
They force us to destroy the person we really are a subtle kind of murder.::
Gaia Forums » GAIA Community » Barton Town (Role Play) » Invitation-only RP

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