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

[notinvayne]

[He notes the water gathering in the bottom of the boat with lifted eyebrows, and quickly offers a hand. Perhaps two. The doctor's mind seems unsound enough, how does that bode for his footing?]

I... think it might be best if you join me on the beach.

[Then they might together proceed to unravel the mystery of a plague doctor appearing on a tropical island.]

[doctoral_bird]

[ Perhaps Malkus was in a bit of shock. Understandable, given how damn hot this island is under these robes! The tall gangly doctor rose to his feet and uneasily shambled out of his little boat like a marionette on loose strings. ]

P-Perhaps. A beach. Sand! Wh-Whoah-

[ Yes doctor, sand was a pain in the ass to walk in. ]

Do you know how- well of course you wouldn't. Are you also a uh- whatsit- shipwreckee?

[notinvayne]

Steady there--

[Thomas does his best to keep the doctor from losing his footing to the wet, sucking sand.

At the question, he glances back over his shoulder at the wrecked plane.]

You could say that, yes. There was a mechanical failure, or so I assume. Myself and a handful of others survived.