The Crash Site

[blindandlost]

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.

Comments

the beach is now diamonds

[awfulsentimetal]

[The tall automaton gets to his feet with some difficulty, the sand shifting under his great weight, and offers a hand up. It looks like he's made a friend of this odd woman.

If only everything else could be so easy; if only a few kind words and a smile could heal Miss B's wounds.]

Glad to hear it. It's just a ways up the beach--oh, and uh, we found some luggage. Maybe some of it is yours?