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[Zako]

((Mica is in the nose of the plane, Ashley is in the tail part. You can't talk to her.))

Ashley silently cursed and fumed as she looked at where the light was.

"Goddammit, nevermind. It's gone now, you missed it. I suppose we should help each other and pull ourselves together. I got a few first aid kits in this for those who need it."

Give a first aid kit to whoever needs it the most and look around for any packs and useful stuff. Take 20 on the search check.

[Dwarmin]

((yeah. ))

James is dropped with the pride wounding sound of 'Oof'.

[Tiruin]

((I...survived from drowning when I've an internal fear of water. Yay, courage!
Also, oops. Didn't realize that inventory thing.

Also, poor Jim.  ))

Eri could feel her chest heaving - the sweet seaside air, combined with the cold of the storm aiding her fatigue. Her arms and legs were burning, and felt like lead at the same time and she felt like she just swallowed a gallon of acid.

Between gasps and the occasional cough, she managed to utter, "Get under cover. We won't last on the beach. Anyone wounded? I...know how to treat injuries."

She survived by herself, swimming about...30 or so meters in a storm at SEA. When she would get home, she promised to thank Lwyn for her self-confidence lessons.

Acquire First Aid Kit and begin treating anyone who is more wounded than I am.

[mainiac]

"Come on, James, no time to be acting like a horny teenager."  Abby extends her brother a hand and pulls him to his feet. "That wasn't that-" Abby's cheery asessment of the situation is cut short as she thinks back to the scene in the cockpit and feels downright ill for a second. "That could have been worse."


James mutters to his sister "You alright there?" to which Abby shakes her head and pulls it together a little.  There's a short awkward pause and then James speaks up "Eh...now what? Are we going to find the others?" He asks, pointing to the path of destruction leading back to the beach.
"Yeah, let's not stay here any longer then we have to.  James, you can lean on me... when your not strong.  Other girl, you wanna give the doctor a hand?

[Skyrunner]

"He can help himself," Mica says, but grudgingly goes to give Wesley a hand in whatever he may need.

[King_of_the_weasels]

Wesley turns his head to see a young woman approaching him, "Eh.. No, no, no, I'm.. I'm fine, just a few dozen scratches and bruises" He stumbles pass her approaching the branch covered path leading the shore, turning back to the group, "Right.. so this way?"

[Terenos]

Travis grinned, but figured given the cacophony of the storm he would save his entertaining wit until a later point. Till then he would have to look around, see if anything was there.

Travis searches the local area, staying well away from wherever he thinks the plane will fall from the tree. Afterwards, he'll acquire some sharp piece of metal to use as a crude sword

[Dwarmin]

Think we get everyone but Cript and Taricus.

Since we're getting alot of non-action 'let's move on' stuff this turn, I can skip them if they don't post today, no problems.

[Criptfeind]

Richard put him arm around the staggered man and pulled him towards the nearest cover. He called over to Eri "I think this guy got it pretty bad. You might want to take a look at him."

[Dwarmin]

Act 1, Scene 8

Tail Group
Richard Dockson Jr, Eri Arloest, Rachel Fergusson, Renard Brosac and Ashley Lockman find cover and began tending their wounds-as we all know, the ones on the outside are the easiest.

======================================================================================
Eri Arloest

Ashley and Rich pull the injured man onto the beach, and the entire group huddles up in the cover of a copse of trees-meager, but sufficent for now.

Ashley then takes her first Aid-Kits from the pack and hands them to you, then goes off to start searching the beach.

A look inside is dissapointing-most of them are missing their full complement of goods, and seem to be a few years old, without having being replenished. Not uncommon for a plane, anyway-who expects to crash and actually have to use these? Shaking her head, Ashley clips them onto her belt loop.

Still, she is used to working with meager supplies in the field, and this is no problem for her. She sits down by Renard, motioning him to be still, and he complies.

[*took 10* Treat Injury 10+7=17]

A few minutes of deft needlework, and the gash on his leg is roughly sutured-a quick splash of antiseptic completes the job as best she can, but he's really going to need a hospital for this. There's all sorts of nasty things in the jungle that can sneak into an open wound. She gives him a safe amout of pain pills from the bag-which he gratefully swallows. Renard seems to come around, but it still in poor shape. He's well doped up, so you let him be for now.

You pause, wondering who to treat next-while Rich and Rachel could both use some first-aid, they're not heavily wounded. If anyone survived in the nose section, they might need it more than them.

((OOC: Remember, First-Aid can only be applied once a day to a character, so Renard can't get healed up anymore than he already is by another kit. I'm adding a House rule that your WIS Bonus gets added as bonus HP, to all successful healing checks.))

You look out to the cold, dark sea. It still terrifies you...but you feel something different, now. You faced it down, and won. You beat your fear. There's some courage there, that you didn't even know you had. It feels good.

You wonder what Llywn would say. Probably something along the lines of "You put on the big boots and kicked that ocean in the crotch, and that's groovy. You're groovy, girl. Like, High five time?" .

The thought makes you laugh a bit, despite the miserable situation.

Inventory
Scrap Metal Pry Bar, in left hand (Improvised Melee Weapon, does 1d4 Blunt or Piercing Damage. Looks like it will be bent out of shape only after a few solid strikes.)
2xFirst Aid Kits (Attached to belt)

Richard Dockson Jr

Richard helps Renard to safety, and watches as Eri successfully treats him. He silently curses his own lack of medical expertise, but there's not much to be done now but be thankful.

In truth, Rhe feels exhausted-mentally and physically. The weather rages-the small hollow they shelter in a meager defense. His wounds seems to have taken on new flavors of pain, and he knows that no help will come for them quickly. His Grandfather has trained him for this for many years-every broken bone and boring lecture during survival training now seems a small price to pay for being here, now, drawing breath.

These facts do not abrogate his fear. Fear is a tool, after all, and he knows to use it but not let it control his actions. Truth. They are lost-somewhere. Rescue is not guaranteed. Death is a very real possibility, not only for him, but the people he's come quickly to rely on. They'll have to test themselves against this place, and be stronger, faster...more merciless than anything it can throw at them. He smiles, and spares a tired look at Eri Arloest-all that, and she hasn't given up hope, yet. He doesn't intend to, either.

Richard Dockson has never felt more alive...than this moment.

(17/20 HP remains, now 3 total NLD)
Life Jacket, Being worn: +10 to Swim Checks, Can Take 10 even when threatened

Dockson Legacy Expedition Case, Strapped Over Shoulder (Can hold up to 10 pds of equipment, but the case and it's contents will count as weightless if Richard holds it. Extremely difficult to break into or damage by ordinary means. It contains a sundry of random equipment and trinkets Dockson Sr gathered in his travels-Richard can occasionally pull plot-needed items from it's depths with a search roll.)
-Zip Tie Cuffs (25)
-Chem Light Sticks (5)
-Compass
-Binoculars
-Flashlight
-Multipurpose Tool
-Lock Release gun
-Beretta 93R (Semiautomatic Pistol, does 2d6 Ballistic Damage. Currently unloaded. Looks to be in pristine condition.)
-Spare 9mm Beretta Clip (20 rounds total) 

Renard Brosac

You sit patient while that pretty Eri Arloest works you over-and not in that way! She stitches your larger wounds closed with a deft hand (you get the idea she's done this before), splashes medicinal alcohol on them (wince), and gives you a few pain pills (not enough in your opinon)-which you swallow happily.

(Healed by Eri for 1d4+3=6)

After a few moments, the drugs kick in-that staggering drunk feeling that's been afflicting you seems to lift and fly away. You feel much better now!

Thoughts roll around...not to let your guard down. You've trusted people before, and you've been burned for it. It's still not totally impossible the KGB or CIA took down your plane on purpose...or that some of the people around you are agents. If it's true, you doubt they intended to crash the plane-maybe just bring it down at an untended airport where they could snag you quietly.

But that's all guesswork...still, you wouldn't put it past Agent Winters to have set this all up. Why not? She's been the ghost haunting your steps for years-when you hear a creak at night, you wonder if it's her-every shadow holds her slim shape. And you're not even sure which side she works for-CIA, KGB or something else. But you do know she wants you. Bad. The only one whose come close to catching you, really. Those cold blue eyes haunt your dreams, sometimes.

Yes...this paranoia is an oddly comforting state of mind-it's kept you alive and free up toll now. For, you have long suspected, they want to get their hands on you, and force you to work for them, or face serious jail time for your multitude of crimes, both what real and imagined. They do like people they can control, after all...but Renard Brosac, is not a man to let himself be caught under someone elses thumb.

Well...not that Renard Brosac is your real name. But no one needs to know that, do they?

(15/18 HP remains, now 3 total NLD)
Carrying Nothing

Ashley Lockman

Ashley hauls Renard over under the shade of a big tree-where Eri and Rich have already dragged some basic shelter.

She takes the kits from her pack and hands them to Eri, who is setting up for some rough field medicine for the group.

Leaving the pair behind, she begins combing the beach throughly, drawing up her windbreaker against the surf...

[*Took 20* Search Check 20+1=21]

She finds the following things, washed up on the shore

Piles and Piles of Scrap: Rods, ceramic plates, jagged steel edges, broken glass-all in bad shape. With some Macgyvering, you've certainly got the materials to construct a number of makeshift weapons and equipment from them.

Your Own Day Pack: You recognize the bright red star on the side of the grey satchel naturally-this was the bag you took on the plane with you. Contains your pocket flashlight, a roll of Duct Tape, changes of clothes and a cellphone. You pick the phone up, dialing frantically-but you get no bars. Might be the storm, or the remoteness of your location, or that light-flying-woman....you scoff, waving your hands uselessly at the whole situation.

Locked Black Briefcase: Non-descript, no name on it, but feels heavier than you would think. It's pretty durable, and has five-digit combination lock on it. Whoever owned this-likely one of your compatriots, must not like his effects being rifled through. You hesitate to try and break it open, wondering whats inside. Maybe whoever owned this has reason to be paranoid?

Big Steamer Trunk: Jeez, this looks old enough it could have floated off the Titanic. A quick peek inside, reveals sets of casual clothing, various male sundries, and a whole lot of books-along with sheets of paper and various writing and art utensils. You don't have to look for a name on it, as most of the books are titled by author "James O'Brien" in adorkable faux-sloppy text. He seems to have written an entire series of Pulp Adventure Fiction novels with very good quality comic book style art--"The Golden Hoard of Kublai Khan", "A World Between Worlds" and "Legend of Siren Rock", and an unfinished book called "Abby the Vampire Killer", with stylistic front cover art of a pretty, vaguely-familiar looking woman holding a long wooden stake.

Well Traveled Range-pack: You find an pale grey bag rocking in the surf, and pull it out with a heave. Inside it, a variety of fashionable womens clothing-loose, easy to wear, lightly colored tan, blue and white. Deeper down reveals a Penlight, Binoculars, Compass, another Cell phone (which also doesn't seem to work), and a bunch of slightly soggy energy bars wrapped in a comfy looking sleeping bag.

The name on the back-written in pink marker in loud, bold print and decorated with tiny stars and comets in an insufferably cute manner-is "~Eri Arloest~"

The wind howls.

(18/18 HP remains)
Inventory

Survival Kit (On back, Providing +10 to Swim Checks, Can Take 10 even when threatened)
-1xFlare gun (1 Round ammunition)
-3xChemical Light sticks
-1xCompass
-1xMultipurpose Tool

Rachel Fergusson

Rachel lays against a tree, still coughing out water.

(16/20 HP remains, now 4 total NLD)
Inventory
Day Pack (On left shoulder)
-Flashlight (Battery 100%)
-Trail Rations (36 bars)
-Rope (30 ft nylon)
-Knife (1d4 piercing damage, 19-20 crit range)

Nose Group
Wesley, Travis, Abby O'Brian and Mica leave the hulk of the plane behind them...

Did I mention Jim had a wife and two kids?

======================================================================================
Mica

Mica helps the injured Doctor walk-he's fairly hurt, more than he lets on, and seems woozy and disoriented. Still, she figure he's about the only useful member of the group aside from herself, naturally-helping him, helps her.

She thinks on her situation at hand, trying to keep focused. Weather? Annoying. Terrain? Annoying. People? Double annoying-especially that Author fellow-as he keeps casting 'covert' glances at Mica from afar. Pff, another one of those guys...he's not bad looking, but he seems almost like an overgrown kid-always with the jokes, grr. Doesn't he know it's a serious situation here?

Mica sighs, and just concentrates on moving forward, not speaking to anyone.

(16/20 HP remains)
Carrying Nothing

Abby

James nods.

"I'm good for now, Sister...and you know Life or Death situations in most men bring out memories of unfufiilled sexual conquests." He says off handedly and with no shame whatsoever. "I'm just obeying my biological imperative, after all..." He finishes with a wry grin. James isn't actually much of a regular womanizer, from what you recall...he might actually be genuinely attracted to her, for whatever reason. Probably not the best time, though.

He begins rifling through the wreck of the plane, ignoring his wounds.

"Where is...my steamer trunk...jeez, I needed that! It's got my only draft of Abby the Vampire Killer..." He comments.

Somehow, you wouldn't mind of that one-your brothers 'tribute' to you-was lost in the ocean...you doubt he'll ever get tired of the staking jokes, or sending you strings of Garlic in the mail.

[Search Check: 16+9=25]

While he doesn't find his trunk, he does pull what looks like a sealed medical bag from the wreckage-like the sort a paramedic might own.

"...Hey, I bet this belongs to that Wesley Fellow. He was a Doctor, right? Got his name on it, anyway."

He hands it to Abby, smiling at his find.

...

Turns out James does need a shoulder-Abby notices he's got a nasty puncture wound on his left side, but he tries to hide it from her, telling her not be worried about him. Brother and sister make their way on the path, leaning on each other for support. But that's how it's always been, hasn't it?

Abbys not sure how brave she would be without James here. She's always been the Smart One, her intellect like a weapon if she choose to use it so-James is imaginative, creative, and an enduring soul. Nothing gets him down. Abby feels safe with him-he's always been there when she's needed him. It's good to have a bigger brother who watches out for you. Family...is a strong thing.

She hears him laugh now, some joke that only he gets-but now it seems to hurt him-and he masks the pain with a tired smile.

Now, It seems Abby's going to have to watch out for him instead.

(16/16 HP remains)
Inventory
Medical Kit (10/10 uses remain)

Travis
[Search Check: 1+1]

Before you can even start looking, the group seems to head off. Not wanting to be left alone at the plane..in the storm...in the dark...with the pilot probably turning into a zombie right now...you hurry after them.

After a few moments of stepping in ankle high mud puddles and stumbling over exposed roots, you decide walking is for chumps. You pray to someone that you eventually find a vehicle, with one to four wheels, and a reasonably straight and flat piece of land to drive it on to escape this horrible jungle. Then you can really show your stuff...

You give momentary thought to Jessie, your friend-and his last words to you.

"Dude, head in the game. I get the feeling you're going into something serious. Been getting alot of strange rumors about these tickets people have been getting...like how there's been alot of mysterious accidents, and some people have even di...Hey, are you listening to me?"
To be honest, you really were distracted at the time. I mean, she was wearing a low cut top. And those legs? Wow! Talk about all weather traction.

...Wait, what were you thinking about again?

(13/17 HP remains, now 4 total NLD)
Carrying Nothing

Wesley
You're about to stagger off, but it seems some members of group are still rifling through the junk. You watch the brother and sister handling an oddly familiar bag, but you can't place it in your memory right now.

The Mica woman seems to grudgingly help you along the path to the beach. The dark, rainy jungle frightens you, to some degree. You can't help but think you're paying penance for something...but your muddled thoughts offer no insights, but you feel a heartache from long ago.

You wonder if the Dreams about her will come tonight.

(10/17 HP remains, now 9 total NLD)
Carrying Nothing

======================================================================================

Act. 1 Epilouge

The Nose group stumbles through the storming jungle, trying not to get seperated from each other-night is falling fast, and it's quickly getting dark.

Their path eventually leads them to the tail group, and with a few weary cheers, the groups are now reunited. By some Miracle-or maybe something more-there's been no deaths or major injuries aside from the Pilot.

The storm roars on-as implacable as ever-and questions of shelter, food, water and rescue must soon be raised...

...

Force and counter-Force.

For every reaction...reaction.

Something has been found. Possibly the greatest discovery in the history of mankind.

The word has been sent out for help, but....fate seems to have turned on those who were brave enough to answer the call. Planes Crash. Ships sink. Vehicles slide off rain slicked roads. Talk of curses and black magic quickly follows-a popular, and almost viral belief among adventurers.

Someone...something...is trying to stop the discovery from ever being revealed.

What is so important about the Event occuring at Pier 34 that they are willing to kill to prevent it?

All answers in time...for now, merely surviving is victory enough.

OOC: Between Acts is time for Heavy RP, guys. So, go at it. I want to see you mingle! Your RP time will cover the whole night, and assume the wind will eventually calm down for normal conversation.

[adwarf]

"Prefect work, best stitching in the world! I bet this took you ages didn't it, and prefect amount of pain killers there." At the last part Renard lifts up his hand and gives Eri the okay sign. "I wonder if there is something to drink from the leftover of that plane." he mumbles before pushing himself, and heading off to search for some alcohol. "Things couldn't have turned out better could they. We need to get moving soon, this crash Winters off my tell, but that she-devil will find me scent again soon enough." At that thought he shuddered a bit, and sped up his search for alcohol.

[Criptfeind]

Richard unties his boots from the pack. Soaked of course. He shrugs, no point in putting them on. He puts his boots in the driest part of cover they are in he can and hopes they dry out before he needs them. He looks over at Renard as the man mutters about getting a drink. "Probably a bad time to take a drink. Not to mention you don't want to be mixing alcohol with the pills you just took." Richard said.

With that, Richard started looking around for ways to improve the shelter.

[King_of_the_weasels]

Heal self with medical bag.  Heal Injury: +9   Wisdom: +3

Wesley found himself a dry, sandless area before he examined himself.  He was pretty torn up, but nothing he couldn't handle.  He looked up and around at the group he had "landed" with, he still knew nothing about them, why they were there, hell why he was here?  He recognized the card lady, and her.. brother?  Then the other guy from the nose, He didn't know his name.  He couldn't pick out the woman who helped him, since he didn't get that good of a look, or any.  He looked back down at his wounds as he stitched and bandaged them up.  He didn't give himself any pain pills, he was use to not taking any himself, partly do to him wanting to save them for other people, but partly because he feared addiction.  Fearing addiction made even more sense with all the pain he's been through, he's been shot at least twice, stabbed once, stabbed once with a fork, so that's like being stabbed 4 times right?  Fell down numerous flights of stairs, thrown himself through a window, a couple other things.

Wesley sighed and winced with each pull of the needle.

[Dwarmin]

Wesley King (Heals 1d4+3=7) tends to his self. He's done it before...he doesn't need the pills-they just dull his senses-but he cleans and stitches his wounds, then positions his body and relaxes, letting the worst of vertigo and mind fuzziness fade away, in time. Reality and his realization of where he is, comes back in waves.

Renard searches the beach... [Search roll 1+2=3]

Damn. If there was ever a time for a stiff drink-no luck so far. Renard rubs his face with a slightly shaking hand. He has been taking the bottle more often than he used to, lately. Recently he's just been feeling stretched out, wired and nervous. Too many close calls. He can't remember the point where he stopped drinking with friends. He guess when his last friend cut off contact with him...but he's been finding more and more nights of his nights are now spent in a bar or lounge-alone. He knows something is wrong...but he's not sure he wants to fix it. After all, if anyone deserves a drink, it's him right?

Richard tends to the shelter. [Survival Roll 2+2=4] Or tries to. There's not much he can think of to improve it, aside from minor adjustments. Right now the rain is mostly being kept out, and what else can he hope for? It's clear they're going to have to move from this place soon.

[Zako]

Ashley sighed as she piled all the bags ontop of the trunk she found and began dragging the lot to their shelter. Doubtless, they would need this stuff to get out of here alive. As she dragged the large trunk, she found herself wondering why she was helping these people.

Because they know how to survive out here and you don't.

Ah, that's why. She huffed with frustration as she mounted a small dune, tugging the trunk over the top. It was frustrating having to rely on others because of your own lack of knowledge, but she was used to it by now. As she neared the campsite, she noticed that others were sitting down there too, survivors from the other half of the plane it seemed. Finally making it back to camp with the bags she found, Ashley picked them up and dropped them in the middle of the group, minus her own of course.

"I found these on the beach. We should check the other half of the wreckage for more stuff."

Ashley flopped down with her back to a tree and sighed. This whole situation was taking it's toll on her.

"So... Now what?"

Compare the size of both my packs and determine which one would carry more. Put my phone, flashlight and tape in the survival pack anyway, and check if I can fit my clothes in there too.