Fantasy Oz: The Heart of Emerald - Always Accepting New Adventurers!

GM's OOC: Post 100 people! Nice Work! We're taking this thing out of dock and into the ocean! Everyone is doing an excellent job!

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[b]IC: Lufthansa Flight 534 ? Direct Service to Sydney Australia[/b]
[i]Location: North Munchkinland, 3 miles outside of the Gates of Center Munch[/i]

And then came the end-game for the Australia bound Lufthansa plane. The plane, gaining speed, rocketed back the edge of the shifting sands, coming closer and closer to the treetops of Munchkinland.

Thunderbird one went down first, about five miles out from Center Munch. The military craft was made strong, and handled the crash pretty well. It was a rough landing, but its passengers were safe. Maybe some whiplash and shaken nerves, but no major injuries.

The big jet managed to keep itself upwards about thirty seconds longer. The pilots, using what they knew best, tried to set the plane down on its belly. This only partially worked. Its bottom hit the ground a touch too fast, crushing its rear landing wheels into oblivion. The resulting momentum slammed the front of the plane down *HARD* on the earth, smashing everything not belted down into, and in some case, smashing through, the planes ceiling. Many people lost consciousness from the g forces, some died.

The wings were sliced off the plane, with the jet engines exploding magnificently, but thankfully far away, from what was left of the plane. There was more chaos as the plane ground to a halt, the tearing of metal and the jostling of people and things filling the memories of those in the cabin.

Seconds passed.

Eventually survivors began their nightmarish return to reality. What greeted them was not pleasant. The first thing they would see would be the darkness of the cabin, lit by a few very small flames in the rear of the aircraft. From the windows came more light, as one of the engines smashed into a tree, sitting it on fire. Meanwhile, the explosion from the other engine was slowly creating a grass fire around it.

The most disconcerting was the gaping hole in the front of the plane. While the first class seats seemed to be spared (for the most part), the cockpit was nowhere to be found.

And of course, there was the silence. The survivors had some time before the small cabin flames would find their way to the jet fuel. But it wasn't too particularly wise to stick around.

[b]TAG: Flight Folks ? Twinky, Lukes_Apprentice, Hammurabi, Chukles, Joesha, Qui-Gon, I-5, Renegade and Dubya [/b]

[hr]
[b]IC: General Jinjur[/b]
[i]Location: Fields, East Quadling[/i]

The Winds had begun to pick up as the storm grew closer, its dark horizon plunging the incoming night into an even deeper darkness. She and a small escort of Ruby Guard had taken off from Glenda's palace on horseback, riding fast and furious towards towards Munchkinland, over the vast stretches of barren plain that separated the two provinces.

"Heyoh!" the woman yelled, tugging her white stallion to stop at the top of one of the gentle hills that populated the fields. She hoped off, clad warmly in a military jacket, green with gold buttons populating the front of it. The ten women that were her Ruby Guard companions pulled their horses to a stop, not saying much as they waited for Jinjur. They were all clad in loose red robes, with their faces covered in an Bedouin style wrap.

One of them, the leader for the group, disembarked, her heavy spear strapped behind her.

"What is it." she asked as she gracefully moved towards the General

Jinjur took out her pocket telescope and looked towards the north.

"Its going to happen." she said, fixing her eyes on the near horizon. She could see the twinkling of Center Munch far away on the plain, and beyond it, the lit star. It was a metal sort of contraption, a long tube with wings. One of those wings seemed to be on fire, and from its dark form, there were what looked like windows of light. Interior lit?

And then the landfall. She could hear it from halfway across the Country. An ear shattering thud followed by a cloud of dirt and debris

 

Reno Plati
-Yellow Brick Road

The plummet of the star sent out a loud shrieking sound across the field which called Reno from his light slumber. The soldier only caught the last seconds before the object hit the ground, but from the pile of dust that shot skyward, he figured that the potential effects could be devastating since it was that close to Center Munch.

The soldier wasted no time laying his grasp on his sword and shield and was about to leap out of the cart, but something held him back. His mission was to arrive to the Galefall Festival without any interruptions. With that thought, he settled back down and observed the crash sight from inside the cart. However, if he went and checked the sight and reported back within time, there would be no problems. Part of their mission was to check on any suspicious activity and this exceeded that level by far. The sight looked four or five miles from his current location, so he could reach it in a matter of minutes.

"I'll be right back." Out of the cart and with a helmet, Reno sped off in the direction of the large tubed object.

Tag: Emperor's Group

 

Luke Glass
Lufthansa Flight 534

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[blockquote]Luke held on and entered a protective pose, clutching his cane as the plane continued to descend. He watched as many of the plane?s occupants flew upward into the ceiling; despite his general disregard for the rules, Luke Glass was at least smart enough to wear a seatbelt, especially when things got rough. As the situation continued to worsen, Luke remained calm. Getting excited wasn?t going to help anything out - if this was Luke?s time to die, it was his time to die, and in any case, it didn?t look like the plane would be making it to Australia.

As the plane violently made contact with the ground, Luke blacked out. He didn?t know how long he was unconscious, but when he awakened, he was still on the plane. Apparently he hadn?t been out long. He looked to his side, to see if the pilot was still around - and if so, what condition he was in.[/blockquote][b]Tag: Hammer, Lukes_Apprentice[/b]

 

IC: David Borkshaw
King Stephen's, Munchkinland

David slowly walked out of the wagon after they arrived at their destination in the heart of Munchkinland. He yawned and stretched his entire body for a good ten seconds before he decided to take a look at his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was the size of the place. It was huge, and popular. He didn't like it. He looked around, and saw a sign advertising food. "King Stephen's," he said to himself. "Sounds regal."

He got a glass of juice from the waitress and placed an order of something on the menu that he couldn't pronounce, but looked tasty enough. However, it was just as he was taking a drink from his delicious juice that the entire place started to rumble, and David dropped his glass and the juice spilled on his pants. "Awww!" he exclaimed. "That's..." he shivered. "Cold." And then he realized that the entire place was rumbling.

And he darted beneath the table.

Tag: Imp

 

Alera Blueflare
Center Munch

As Alera watched the shiny object, it simply got bigger and bigger. Then suddenly the ground shook like mad, as something exploded. Starfall?!!! Alera got excited. When she was born, there was an event in the sky. And now, she was of age, and could finally make it to the celebration, another skyfall? Maybe it was not a coincidence.

She flew to the top of a building, and began to look. How far was it? Some folks acted strange, as they began to duck, and cover their heads. Perhaps they were playing some strange game. Some folks ran OUT of buildings, acting silly. Silly people, running out instead of in.

The local Munchkin fire brigade was reacting, climbing into their horse-drawn fire-carts. Likewise the local Emerald garrison was scrambling its soldiers to inspect the damage, along with everyone else. OOH! The Horse drawn fire-carts. A fine place to hitch a ride, and get their quickly. Or at least, they would get her close.

"Oh what fun, its quite a site, to see a starfall on this night!" Alera stated with a smile, as she moved to find herself a place to latch on, and not be noticed, while they went to investigate whatever it was that hit the ground. Hopefully, it would be something interesting. She would have some fine stories to tell, later on.



TAG: I DUNNO.. Imp_Hammer... everyone else still sleep!

 

IC: Masha Treskov
Lufthansa Flight 534 - Falling

Masha tried to breathe as calmly as possible, every fiber of her being screaming for her to lose control. She sat up straight, pressing back into her chair. The airplane shook wildly as it hit the ground. Quickly, Masha covered her face with her forearms and hit the seat in front of her, blacking out.

Lufthansa Flight 534 - Wreckage

In the ruin of the plane Masha was unconscious, her head buried in her arms leaning into the seat in front of her. Dreaming again; there was music, like that of the old Jazz era, soft instruments and and quiet lyrics sung from no where "Maybe, you'll think of me...". A long path way of cement, benches and foliage surrounding them, a mixture of green and brown leaved trees. She pulled the cover lower over her head and continued walking. Such a nice dream after a terrible accident.

TAGS: Hammurabi, Lukes_Apprentice, others

OOC: Don't mind the dreams, I'm just having fun.

 

IC: Mike Biccum
Plane wreckage - Somewhere...

...The next thing Mike knew, he was laying on his back in the aisle looking up at the ceiling. His eyes grew wide as he began to remember what was happening: the plane was going down.

But, he was alive. The plane was down and he was alive.

He rolled over and got up on one knee. He felt his stomach hurt. Lifting up the hockey jersey and the T-shirt underneath, he noticed a large bruise across his belly. That must have happened when he was thrown from the seat. The seat belt must have snapped due to the pressure of his body being forced forward. And somehow he had landed pretty far away from where he was seated.

He stood up, feeling some aches and pulled muscles. Nothing seemed too serious. Then he noticed blood on his right sleeve. Pulling up the sleeve, he noticed his elbow was scrapped up. He must have hit it on something as he was thrown from his seat.

That seemed to be the extent of the injuries: some pulled muscles, a bruise across his stomach, and some skin scrapped off of his elbow. He was just happy to be alive and walking.

Getting his bearings, Mike noticed the small fires around the cabin. The smoke was making it's way out some of the shattered windows. He could also smell fuel...

Hobbling through the cabin of the airplane, looking at the bodies, he yelled, "Hello? Anybody hear me? Anybody still...alive?"

TAG: any plane crash survivors...

 

IC: John O?Neil
Over Merry Land and Crashing

This is the end.

It was funny, really. Well, disregarding the rather excruciating circumstances that seemed to involve pain, more pain, and then a very long sleep, the current state of affairs were quite humorous.

For years John had pondered the mysterious condition that human beings feared and hated and tried to deny, that which they labeled death, yet never, not once, could he imagine the sensations that would come to bear at the event of his own demise. The very essence of his life revolved around exploring the unexplainable, so, of course, he had tried to visualize his death on several occasions in order to get a better handle on the lofty concept.

But I never thought it?d be like this.

A state of utter, complete calm had washed over and through him, filling him with a vibrating warmth that radiated with fulfillment. He sat, strapped into the hot smoothness of the seat, feeling the straps biting into his skin but not caring. The small air conditioner to the upper right of his head had malfunctioned and was now blowing warm, stale air, but he didn?t notice. Ahead of him a woman shrieked, a small child called out, and a man roared with impotent rage, but none of the human emotions associated with feeling and being seemed to touch him at all. John simply sat and sat, and waited for the end.

A sharp deceleration, coupled with the angling descent of the plane, spoke volumes to its passengers. Some grew silent, others muttered small prayers, and some simply screamed in the purest articulation of terror.

We?re getting ready to land on our belly. Should be fine, if the wheels hold out. Any second now. Closer...closer...

With a blow that shook the plane to its core, sending appalling cracks and moans down its center, the bottom touched the ground a tad too fast, crushing its rear landing wheels and slamming the front of the plane into the earth. John ground his teeth fiercely to avoid losing consciousness as his head buzzed with the dizzying g forces ripping through the plane.
Blood dripped from his lower lip and onto his chest, but how he had injured it, John didn?t know. All around him, the personification of chaos and apocalyptic destruction rained down on the hapless passengers, metal groaning and being crushed beneath its own mass, the roar and fateful crunch of the plane?s wings, and the finalizing boom of the exploding engines.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

Inhuman silence.

Groaning with the agony of a thousand different pains, John lifted his head and pried open his unwilling eyelids. The heady smell of engine fuel combined with the iron rank of blood flooded his nostrils, bringing a sharp rush of bile to his throat. The cabin was steeped in blinding darkness, silent sobs and soft words the only testament to survival.

I?m alive.

Overcome with something that seemed like happiness but might have been something else, John laughed, long and hard.

I?m alive! Wait--

Damn it all to Hell! The jet fuel! If the fire reaches the jet fuel, nobody?s going to be alive for long.

Cold fingers fumbling at the seat straps, John ripped the bindings off of his chest and reached for the support of the chair in front of him.

"Hello? Anybody hear me? Anybody still...alive?"

John jerked his head sharply to his right, where he thought he recognized the voice of the hockey player he had spoken to earlier.

Shaking himself shortly, he stepped gingerly over something soft to his right that he would rather not stop to think about, unwilling to call out lest he discover that his feverish mind had played him for a fool.

Finally, curiosity won an epic battle over fear, and John cupped his hands to his mouth and called, ?Over here! I?m over here!?

TAG: plane peeps

 

IC: Mike Biccum
The plane wreckage

?Over here! I?m over here!?

Mike spun around when he got a response. He quickly rushed over, his body aching, and noticed the man who had been sitting next to him. Mike reached out to help steady the man. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

TAG: John O'Neil...

 

IC: Jordan Carlisle
Plane Crashing and Wreckage

Jordan clutched the arm rests, his eyes closed. He almost began to hyperventilate, and he didn't even listen to the conversation and commotion around him. His thoughts were a mess, and he didn't even try to make sense of them. He was not even aware that the plane was about to crash. However, there was little doubt as to what had just happened when the plane collided with the ground.

Jordan felt himself rock back briefly before flying forward. About all he felt was the seat belt snapping and his head slamming into the seat in front of him. Somehow, he rolled over the seat and flew across the aisle. He could tell he was woozy, but he still felt it as something collided with his head. Blackness engulfed him, and he quickly lost consciousness.

His body, now completely out of his control flew down the aisle some more as the plane settled to a stop. He stopped on his back, badly bruised and bleeding from his head. His eyes were closed, and his left glasses lens was cracked. Were he to come to, he'd notice quickyl that none of his bones were broken, but it would take him some time to recover.

TAG: Others on plane

 

IC: Howard Johnson
Plane Crashing and Wreckage

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[i]We are coming down to fast.[/i]

Sure enough as the plane came down the wheels were unable to compensate and the plane plugged down jumping and jostling as it road along the ground then Howards head hit the seat in front him and there was nothing.

Howard came to with a headache the size of the titanic. Howard groaned and opened his eyes.

[i]I?m alive those idiots got us safely on the ground.[/i]

Howard rubbed his neck and looked around and didn?t see too much the lights were not on and there was some smoke in the cabin.

This is not good where there smoke there is fire, and there is still fuel on this plane we need to evacuate pronto.

Howard looked over at Luke it looked like he was alright. Howard unbuckled his belt and stood up it was a little hard to concentrate because his head still hurt.

Howard said, ?Luke you have to get moving, if you can. Every one needs to get off this plane now!?

Howard looked to his right the man sitting next to him had been ejected out of his seat was no longer present that was really going to hurt. Howard looked back behind him and saw the woman that had passed him when they boarded. Howard put his hand on her solder and said, ?Miss you got to get up.? It was futile she looked to be knocked out. Howard hesitated then felt for a pulse. She was still alive he had to get her off.

Howard heard someone yell, "Hello? Anybody hear me? Anybody still...alive?"

Howard yelled, ?Yeah I am, but someone has to get an emergency exit open we have to get off this plane!?

Howard grabbed the woman behind him and dragged her forward, trying not to hurt her, and started heading forward with his human cargo. ?Luke I have to help her first, I hope your alright and can get to an exit,? Howard yelled at Luke to make sure he heard him.

Tag: plane people

 

IC: Jeremiah "Bill" Brannigan Fitzgerald
The Ruby Slipper, Center Munch

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Bill was roused from his slumber by what could only be appropriately described as the sensation of all hell breaking loose in your immediate proximity. There was a demonic screeching of metal and earth, rumbling like you wouldn't believe, and the sudden and easily identifiable sound of total panic erupting from the people in their vacinity.

In other words, sleeping through this took more discipline than Bill really had. He sprang to his feet with the sort of fluidity usually reserved for fluid dynamists' subject matter.

Bill almost smirked, realizing he would have to use that one at the next Physical Sciences convention. But now was not the time for jokes. Heading downstairs with as much haste as he could muster, he noticed what looked like a couple sitting over at a table. "Hey!" he called out, feeling a bit flustered by the whole experience, "Do you know what all this apocalyptic racket is about?"

[b]TAG: Trimaj, HS29, Prenn (?)[/b]

 

IC: Mike Biccum
Plane wreckage

While helping to steady the fellow named O'Neil, Mike heard somebody else yell.

?Yeah I am, but someone has to get an emergency exit open we have to get off this plane!?

Mike peered through the smoke and down the cabin to see another man walking about. It was one of the guys that was sitting in a different part of the plane when they had left North America. The other man appeared to be dragging a woman across the floor.

"Right," Mike said softly to himself, "emergency exit." He spun his head around to see an Emergency Exit sign a few seats back. He just hoped the door wasn't stuck.

TAG: O'Neil, Howard, other plane folks...

 

CS, Approved by our redoubtable and fearless Imperial_Hammer, and what a strange place this is...

Name: Ronan Ivar "Ron, Bumpy" Kennedy
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Outsider
Nationality: American/Portugese (Holds dual citizenship)
Profession: Bush Pilot (Remote locale aviation)


Hair Color / Style: Medium brown/medium length, slightly wavy
Eye Color: Light Blue
Skin Color: Caucasian
Clothing:
Chicago Cubs baseball hat, Oakley sunglasses (Black frames, crimson lenses), green pilots jumpsuit, black pilots gloves, brown hiking boots, red t-shirt, khaki cargo pants, vintage style black bomber jacket w/ company logo on right shoulder and USA Flag on left, white gold wedding band on left ring finger
Other Points of Appearance: Carries Oakley Tactics backpack with survival gear (canteen, MREs, survival knife, Flare Gun, multi-tool, flint etc), as well as .454 Casull Mateba Autorevolver and .30-06 M-1 Garand (important when crashing in places where you need to hunt or defend yourself)

Biography: A reformed devil-may-care thrill seeker, Ronan Kennedy was born and raised in the city of Chicago. While he still swears by and lives there, he always sought new adrenaline rushes and new adventures, doing such things as motocross, snowboarding, fast cars, even skydiving for his 16th birthday. After watching vintage movies of the golden age of aviation, he decided at an early age that he would want to do something along those lines.

After graduating High School, he attempted to join the ROTC and go into the United States Air Force as a fighter pilot, but was dissuaded by the rigor and structure that was required of him, as well as not having the same mindset as his peers.

Bored and nearly a dropout at Northern Illinois University, his plodding and random surfing of the internet one weekend led him into the world of bush aviation, the last frontier of aeronautical adventures.
Vastly intrigued, he re-dedicated himself and quickly graduated with a bachelors degree in biology.

Enrolling in a wildlands aviation course, he graduated at the top of his class, where his instructors noted that he seemed to have a natural fearlessness and willingness to hold on when other pilots would have attempted to bail or ditch the aircraft.
For almost 3 years he lived the life of a quintessential cowboy bush pilot, a wild man cum playboy who was again looking for the next big thrill or conquest. He also earned a reputation as a solid and highly skilled pilot, even after enduring not one but two crashes, the latter from which he lead three passengers to safety over a period of a week in the Alaskan backwoods.

Then while flying an airlift for the United Nations in the Congo, he met his future. One flight yielded not only a load of medical records and samples but a nurse that was to accompany them. Her name was Ana Carmo Nicolau. The attraction was immediate and electric, and lasting. During a 6 month long courtship the two reconciled many issues that arose, chiefly Ronans personality, Anas' experiences with past boyfriends, and the general distance between the two. After 6 months, Ronan proposed to Ana in front of her family during a reunion in Coimbra
The two were wed in the same church that Ronans' parents were, and are still happily married. Though Ana would have been content to spend the majority of the time in Chicago with Ronan, he has made it a point to hold dual citizenship of both the USA and Portugal like his wife, making travel to her home country that much easier.

Ronans' intent is to earn his commercial pilots license and quit the bush plane business in a year, in order to spend more time with Ana and travel the world with her in a more comfortable fashion. Little does he know that Ana is pregnant with their first child, due to the fact that in the remote reaches where he typically works there is no phone or internet connection to speak of.

 

IC: Ronan Kennedy
Location: Somewhere other than Australia...

*Mariners, pilots, adventurers, survivors. Anybody who has spent time in the south pacific will tell you that strange things happen there. Things that can't always be explained by science, or understood by those who have never been in the south Pacific.

Right now anything but the unexplainable was on the mind of Ronan Kennedy, known to friends as "Bumpy" and family as "Ron". At that particular moment his thoughts were consumed with two things: Keeping the airplane on a bearing that Air Traffic Control had designated, and staying alive so that he could see his Ana again. The focus on the two kept the nagging anger in the back of his mind from surfacing.

The reason the veteran bush pilot was flying was not because of some critical cargo haul or injured individual. No, it was for faulty empty SCUBA tanks and gear. The commercial research company he was flying for insisted that this gear was taking up too much space and needed to go, despite his warnings that flying through that kind of storm front would be at best illogical and most likely next to lethal.

However, they had cried and stamped their feet, and when all else had failed, the smarmy grad students doing work on some project involving the prodding of eels or some odd thing had gone to daddy, the regional supervisor, and insisted that it was crucial to fly the bum scuba gear out and new supplies in.
Kennedy had a sneaking suspicion that the reason he was out over the Pacific during a monster storm was because some meatheads wanted to impress the women that worked there, although he had learned long ago to keep those kinds of things to himself, at least until a more opportune moment came about.

Still, he would have a lot more to worry about if he was flying a different aircraft. The old OV-10D Bronco that he had bought surplus and modified over the time that he had owned it had more than once performed and carried him home where other aircraft would had failed. Birdstrikes, double engine failures, fuel line fires, the Bronco had survived it all and become better over the years.
It was his intention that if he survived this flight, he would take his sweet time getting back AFTER he lodged a formal complaint against the Regional Manager. Some things could not go unreported, especially when it came to contractor safety.

A audible ping and thud diverted his attention away from his task at hand and forced him to look back into the modified bay. His thoughts became audible at that moment*

"Really? As if I didnt have enough on my plate..."

*Kennedy considered several options. He could keep flying and ignore it, try to avoid jostling as much as possible. However, with this kind of weather, loose gear in any capacity could wreak havoc with the balance of the aircraft as well as the mechanical and structural components, something that would most assuredly go under the heading of "not good."

Despite his wifes great influence, the life of a bush pilot meant that sometimes you had to take stupid risks in order to get things done and get home.
Swearing that he would quit this business once his commercial pilots courses were done with for the 80th time, he engaged the autopilot, slipped off his headphones and mic, then shimmeyd his way back to the cargo hold.
A crate of miscelanious equipment had somehow broken a tie-down toggle, and was starting to slide out of its position. With no time to grab another strap, Kennedy just lashed it to the rack of faulty SCUBA tanks and said a silent prayer that it would hold.

In mid prayer, the plane shook and a surge knocked out all electrical power. That could mean only one thing, a lightning strike. Moving quickly, he pivoted and started to run towards the front of the aircraft when a massive jolt accompanied by a booming report shook the Bronco, heaving it so violently that Kennedys head smacked into a structural beam, knocking him out cold...

---

[i]*Kennedy had no idea how long he was out, or what had happened. All he knew as he was inside o

 

IC: John O?Neil
The plane wreckage

The hockey player -- What was his name? Mike? -- pushed through the ambivalent layers of smoke, darkness, and debris, emerging from the haze as if possessed by some otherworldly force. John gasped as if he?d never seen another human being all his life, nearly toppling over on the uneven surface.

Mike reached out his arm and grasped John by the shoulder, steadying him with a firm grip. ?You okay? Are you hurt?? he asked, his voice thick in the filthy, noxious air.

?I?m fine. Just a bit...shaken, that?s all. Never really crashed a plane before,? he chuckled darkly, his throat parched and aching.

Just as Mike had opened his mouth to speak, a voice called, ?Yeah I am, but someone has to get an emergency exit open! We have to get off this plane!?

John?s eyes stung as he struggled to peer through the dense clouds of smoke, catching sight of a anther man half dragging a woman through the mounds of wreckage.

?Right,? muttered Mike, ?emergency exit.? He whirled sharply, his face brightening at an Emergency Exit sign glowing proudly a few seats from where he stood.

?Come on, then!? said John, picking his way to the door?s large, metal frame as quickly as he could.

TAG: crash survivors

 

OOC: Masha's a teenager, not a woman haha

IC: Masha Treskov
Wreckage
Masha smelled smoke, but from where? She was standing in the middle of the pathway and looked around. Through the music she could hear voices fading in and out from no where.

"Just a bit...shaken, - crashed a plane before,"

Her dream faded quickly and she felt her entire body snap back to consciousness with a jerk.

"Yeah I am, but someone has to get an emergency exit open! We have to get off this plane!"

She breathed heavily and the deliriousness had intensified from the smoke. Masha tried to open her eyes and could barely see, her vision blurred, and worse was obscured by the smoke. She tried reaching for the arms of the person dragging her. "Otpustite menja... " she groaned.

TAGS: Everyone in the wreckage

 

IC: Simone Stormwind (junior stewardess), Lufthansa 534
Location: on or in the ground

For some reason, it was the words ?emergency exit? that finally roused her, and Simone blinked open painfully puffy eyes to see the sticky black mess that was her skirt, covered in blood from her nostrils.

She immediately felt pain in one cheek, her nose, and her midriff, where the safety belt had cut in, but otherwise, she appeared to be okay.

The hardiness that came with surviving military basic training, and countless campaigns, allowed her to concentrate and sit back up, her back and head impacting lightly on the wall against which she sat.

Moving her head round carefully, she gauged the disposition of the half-dozen stewardesses seated limply near to her, and none looked too clever.

She would have to check them physically to make sure, but she could tell the pungent tinge of some kind of liquid fuel that this was one situation that needed triaging ? get everyone able to move, off the plane.
After that, if it were possible, someone with training could come back to check for other survivors.

She reached for the handle of the thick moulded white hatch against which she was seated, wincing as she leaned into it to? she stopped, squinting at the controls on the inside.
She had almost made a boob, she realised, releasing the black handle and looking round the frame. That lever had been to open the door normally.

She didn?t want that; she wanted the option that inflated the yellow emergency slide for the passengers to go down. Ah, there it is.

Her fingers closed around the yellow and black ?hazard striped? grip at the base of the door frame, tensed and pulled up.

BOOM

Bright light flooded in as the door flew away from the plane, skittering a shallow path across the gouged up shrubbery. A golden yellow slide unrolled from the side of the plane, just under the opening, and extended to the ground at a steep but safe forty-five degree angle.

?This way, people.? She croaked as best she could, still strapped to her seat next to the opening. ?Take your shoes off before going down the slide.?

Tag: plane people

 

IC: Mike Biccum
In the plane

O'Neil had rushed to one of the emergency exits, while the teenager being dragged suddenly awoke and grasped at the man who was dragging her.

Mike spun around when he heard a loud BOOMing noise. The light shined in and a stewardess was motioning for them to go out that way. It was one of those big yellow balloon-slide-things. Mike didn't know the correct term for it...

Mike rushed over, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. Before exiting, he turned to the stewardess who was still strapped to her seat. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

TAG: Sithy and other "Plane Wreckage" folks...

 

IC: Ronan Kennedy
Location: Arriving at the wreck of Lufthansa flight 534

*Survival experts usually state that your best chance of rescue is staying in one spot. Supposedly it gives rescuers a better chance of zeroing in on your position.
Then again, these same experts never started out over the Pacific Ocean near Australia, then ended up in what looked like a too-brightly colored version of the American Pacific Northwest or middle Europe.

It felt like a combination of sleep deprivation based hallucination and a creepy dream that could become a nightmare at any moment to Ronan Kennedy. His white-knuckle grip on his rifle was evidence of that. He had absolutely zero trust in his current situation, which was even less than when he crashed in the Alaskan countryside in winter.
He was busy looking around when he nearly stumbled down what looked like to be a sheer hill that was the termination of a tree line. However, his eyes quickly followed where his nose and ears directed him.

In front of him was a massive white cylindrical object with what looked like portholes along the upper half. With his mind catching up to his senses, he realized that this was no foreign object but another plane wreck, a commercial airliner, and much worse than his own wreck.
The tail section was consumed in flames that were slowly but surely licking forwards towards the cabin, but the logo at the front was clearly evident.

"Lufthansa". The German flag carrier airline. This had to be an international flight, and consequently was probably loaded to the hilt with paying passengers.*

"Oh no, no. Dear god let there be survivors, please let there be survivors..."

*His own voice trailed off as he quickly slid out of his backpack, jacket, and laid the rifle on top of them, knocking his Chicago Cubs hat off of his head in the process.
The sheer incline of the impact ditch that the airliner had apparently dug prevented a full blown run, so Kennedy had to settle for sliding down the burnt soil and plant remains as fast as he could.

Not regarding his own safety at that particular moment, he splashed through a puddle that was formed by the trickling of a fluid that was leaking out of the wreckage of what had to be the right wing. Kennedy could feel the heat, but a view inside betrayed movement.

It meant survivors, and now his duty to act was clear. Before those flames reached anything that would render the immediete area uninhabitble to anything but ameobas, those who were alive inside had to be moved over that ridge and as far away as possible, injured or not.

As he carefully made his way up towards the wing root itself, the hatch closest to him flung open, and though smoke came rolling out he caught a glimpse of a raven haired woman who could have been a passenger, crewmember, stewardess, or con for all he knew. The point was there was at least one person that had the mental faculties to try and get people out.

Just before he said something to get her attention, he thought about his apparel. Aside from the dark green pilots jumpsuit, he was suddenly very acutely aware of the fact that not only did he have a big knife strapped to his left ankle, but at his right hip was a rather large and sturdy looking pistol. All of it would likely add up to the general consesus that he might be some backwoods "Last Man On Earth" type, rather than another victim of some unexplainable phenomena.

Clearly barking and waving for attention was not in order. A different approach was needed.

While he still utilized a loud tone, he did not shout, and rather than brace on anything he balanced on the balls of his feet and held up his hands, hopefully convincing whomever was just inside the door that he meant no harm.*

"Hello? Please, do not fear me. I survived my own crash and saw the smoke, figured it was man-made.
Listen, I'm here to help, but everybody who is alive needs to get out of this wreck ASAP. The flames are at the tail section but are moving forward, and there's no telling what they might hit.

 

Luke Glass
Lufthansa Flight 534

---

[blockquote]Luke Glass was dismayed to find the young pilot was completely uninjured and already barking orders. [i]?Luke you have to get moving, if you can. Every one needs to get off this plane now!?[/i] the younger man said.

Luke growled, inaudible against the sound of the burning plane. He didn?t go from being a top-caliber secret agent to being some crippled old chump in need of care just because of some damn plane crash. Luke shot the younger man a cold glare. ?I fought the Soviets for twenty long years,? he said. ?Don?t tell me what to do.?

Luke spat on the pilot?s feet and hobbled off - though not in the direction of the open exit. Instead, he headed toward another exit door, which he shoved open on his way off the plane.[/blockquote][b]Tag: Hammer, Lukes_Apprentice, passengers[/b]

 

IC: Annie North
plane wreck

Annie opened her eyes, her vision blurred. Her head was throbbing and she could feel something trickling down the side of her face. Raising her hand and feeling a large bump she pulled the hand away she could see she was bleeding, probably from above her eye. She has been hit on the head by something flying loose during the crash, but at that moment nothing could register for Annie, nothing was familiar. She somehow loosened her belt and stumbled into the aisle.
On the floor she recognised her bag and grabbed it, thankful for something she could comprehend.
Stumbling forward she saw and open door and headed in the direction.
"What's happening?" She asked to anyone who could answer her.

TAG: any

 

co-GM OOC: My turn to do an update, which will probably be tomorrow. So get your posts in!

 

IC: John O?Neil
The plane wreckage

John braced his frigid hands, slick with perspiration, on the scorching, filth-encrusted metal of the door. Inhaling deeply, filling his parched lungs with the stale air of the passenger cabin, he tensed the muscles in his shoulders and forearms and pushed against its frame. The weakened door emitted a sharp groan, its still powerful frame shuddering but refusing to yield.

Removing his hands and flexing tense, aching fingers, John gritted his teeth and braced his bodyweight forcefully against the door, straining with every ounce of his human strength, sweat streaming into his eyes and dripping onto his chest. With a slight tremble, the door edged forward half an inch...one inch...two inches...

?Got it!? gasped John, the door swinging forward and hanging perilously on its massive hinges.

?Hey!? he called to the other passengers, coughing deeply as dust filled his mouth and stuck against the back of his throat. ?The exit?s open!?

TAG: plane survivors

 

IC: Simone Stormwind (junior stewardess), Lufthansa 534.
Location: landed

Though it really wasn?t long before the first person responded to her shout, it was enough for Stormwind to drift away... Gods, she wanted some ice for her nose.
She didn?t think, over the last weeks that she would ever want something as much as her old life back, to feel the Templar around her, to smell the constant sweat and motor oil that was shipboard life aboard her the Jumpship Virago; but right now, she would have settled for a cold, damp towel packed with crushed ice!

?Are you okay? Do you need help??

The voice jarred her back, and she found a male passenger standing at the open doorway, ready to use the slide, so, right before her knees!

She looked up at him, trying to focus and remember who the hell he was.
Ah yes, Mr Biccum. She had had to remember passengers? names from the manifest, so it would seem a personal service when she interacted with them.

She tried to smile, but discovered, as the pain shot up her face, that it was best not to.

?Th-thank you, n-no, Mr Biccum. I?ll be fine. Just make sure you remove your shoes before you use the slide, and then make for the treeline as fast as you can. I will direct any more passengers over to join you.?

She then heard another voice calling, and it took a moment for her to realise that it was coming from outside.

That a passenger must have gotten out by one of the other emergency exits, was her first thought, but looking between Biccum and the door-frame, she spotted a figure in a one-piece dark green shipsuit.

Hello. She thought. None of our passengers had been dressed like that.

?Hello? Please, do not fear me. I survived my own crash and saw the smoke, figured it was man-made.?

That made her think he must have been flying that military plane that she had spotted the nose and partial fuselage off, earlier, but his next words pushed that from her mind.

?Listen, I'm here to help, but everybody who is alive needs to get out of this wreck ASAP. The flames are at the tail section but are moving forward, and there's no telling what they might hit.?

Her eyes widened somehow. It was one thing to smell the fuel, but just hearing the word ?flames? made it all the more visceral!

?Mr Biccum, you heard the man; Go.? Then, struggling gamely to release her safety webbing, she yelled along the inside of the cabin, ?This way, this way! If you can move, please leave the plane immediately and make for the tree-line. Leave your luggage, we can come back for it later.? The words ?This is not a drill!? left her mouth before she could stop them, hands done, the stupidest comment she could have made.

Her body must have shifted forwards slightly with the impact, she realised, for the belt securing to her seat, and folded into the curves of her black waistcoat, was twisted into an immovable knot against the metal clasp. She was not going anywhere for the time being.

?Is there anybody inside that needs help to the door or to be carried? How can I help?? Continued the man outside.

She would rather he wait until all the passengers had debarked, but that, along with her able to stand free of the seat, was ?perfect world scenerio?, so called out to him:
?Sir, if you have a knife, and can get it to me without damaging the slide, or,? she glanced up at Mike, ?Mr Biccum; I could definitely use it. Otherwise, please stay outside and get passengers to the treeline.?

She could hear further signs of activity from further along the aisle, including the welcome sound of another emergency hatch opening, but from this angle, could not see anything.

Tag: Biccum, Kennedy, plane people