whatsinthehatch | The Crash Site

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The Crash Site

It doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't matter how you were travelling. All that matters is the Island, and the Island wants you. All are drawn to the same stretch of shoreline; your plane suddenly loses power and drops from the sky to crash into the sand. Your boat runs aground. Your helicopter plows a deep furrow until the blades tangle and catch in the thick growth of the jungle.

However it happened, now you're here. You belong to the Island. There might be something salvageable in the debris, but no matter what you find, no matter who is with you, one thing is certain:

You are lost.

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[Her hand lowered, and she almost looked apologetic.]

My, you're confident! Plotting to cross the ocean itself in such a vessel. Are you certain you're up to the task, friend?

[ His expression seemed to soften at that look, shoulders slouching just a bit. After a short pause, he let out a relieved sigh, thankful that the natives of this strange land weren't immediately hostile. ]

Confident heheh perha- wait- [ He choked and coughed on the last remaining bit of moisture in his mouth. ] ocean?

What ocean? I had just crossed a lake! I was-... I mean I think I did!

[ He looked down in his tiny boat, pulling his rickety bone harpoon up from next to him. ]

That's what this was supposed to be for, right? I-I must have wanted to fish but can't remember why. I hate fish!

Welcome to the apparent home of lost souls. You'll find upon proper landing that we two are hardly the only ones here, much less the only ones who had no intention of coming here. This world is truly a mysterious place. I myself was in the process of being flown to collect on a job that I had been recently assigned, and then, quite suddenly, my vessel crashed, slaying all aboard but myself.

[ His eyes went back to squinting, but not out of displeasure. More out of skepticism. And bewilderment, because how is one flown to collect on a job? Still, this woman didn't seem to mean him any ill will, so the best he could do was slowly shamble out of his gallant ship. ]

Just marvelous. So I'm dead or something? Because that sounds a lot like the lines and phrases an owner of purgatory would give.

[ The man's knees trembled, weak from the trip. ]

Well I'm glad you seem to be alright! huff I-I mean, unless we're the only ones who didn't make it. Being deceased here and all. I-I don't know how it works yet, give me some time to figure that out.

[ He dusted his robe with his hand, taking off his hat to seriously fan himself. Black did not reflect heat very well. ]

I'm not certain whether this is purgatory or not, but I am fairly certain that, whatever this place may be, it doesn't belong to me. If I had my way, why, I would be back among civilization, cleaning the streets as they do need.

[She spoke wistfully, pressing a hand to her chest melodramatically.]

[ When he was all prim and proper again, he slowly shuffled up to the woman, grimacing as his boots sunk unpleasantly into the sand. These robes were not beachwear... Eugh. ]

Then we are kindred spirits at least. My name is Malkus Iverwelling.

[ He dipped into a small bow. ]

Cleaning the streets? You're a streetsweep then? A noble profession, I'm sure.

You could say that. I consider it a personal mission to scrub clean the useless and broken things left strewn about.

[Though she's wearing something along the lines of a pantsuit, she still offers him a small curtsy in response, red lips curling up into a smile.]

I am called Genie.

Marvelous! Yes, I agree wholeheartedly! If we don't do it, who will right? Hohoh- yes.

[ He had no idea that she might not actually be completely literal here. All he knew was that he had a good feeling about this lady! Plague doctors were kind of a thankless job in his time, as were street-cleaners he imagines. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Genie! Good to know there is at least one other civilized spirit in this land.

Likewise, I'm sure. There are others here, of course, some of whom make for surprisingly diverse conversation-- although...

[She turned vivid blue eyes on him quite suddenly.]

May I ask you a question?

Of course! Thank god there are others. I do hope they're as pleasant as present company-

[ He shrank back just a bit, sinking his head into his shoulders. ]

A-Ah, a question? Er- sure! Yes, ask away!

[The sudden stare quickly softened back into a smile, although there always seemed to be something almost manic behind all of her expressions.]

Tell me, friend... what do you think of souls? If you consider this a possible afterlife-- I shudder, however, to think death would be so dull-- then that must imply a belief in them, yes?

[ Malkus tried to return his own uneasy smile. It was still a good feeling, right doctor? She didn't display any reason for him not to trust her. ]

Well yes, of course!

[ He gestured a bit through the air. ]

All of that, you know. Heaven and Hell and the after life. This purgatory is supposed to be dull! That's the point, right? This is where we... er...

[ Honestly he didn't really read too much into that. He was still somewhat of a man of science. ]

We do things. Finish business and whatnot before going to the other afterlives. Or something.

Tell me, friend... do you believe that an artificial man could be given a soul?

[ He rubbed the underside of his beak, humming. ]

Wow, that's an interesting one...

[ His head tilted... and tilted... and tilted, until he swayed to one side quite curiously. ]

I don't know! That's interesting. Who's soul? A unique soul or the soul from some man who has already passed? What is-... Mmm... I must have missed that lesson, because I am not sure where souls come from.

I don't believe that I had ever witnessed such a lesson, myself. Yet here, in what you suppose must be purgatory, there is an artificial man, a machine with limbs. Quite a charming man, in fact, for one so clearly man-made. And it seems he has siblings here with him.

[ He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. ]

That is interesting! I don't know, I won't start to pretend as if I know how this is all supposed to work! All I know is, I'm not really supposed to be here. And it is hot. Far too hot.

[ The poor doctor has clearly never experienced the tropical sun. ]

Did they arrive as well? They mustn't be part of this 'island' then...

[ He folded his arms, staring off for a moment. ]

This is all very strange.

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The Crash Site

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