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

[missfunction]

The elder automaton was tenderly cradling a gruesomely bloody head to her breast, one arm wrapped up under the body of the young woman, the other pressing a gloved palm so very carefully against the head wound. Rabbit may not have known a lot or things—or at least feigned ignorance in them quite often—but basic first aid had been one of the first few things she’d ever really learned outside of music. Growing up with two fleshy, far too easily hurt brothers had insured that the ‘bot had seen many a bruise, scrape, and broken bone (even accidentally caused quite a few herself) dealt with by their human father. Then there was the various years spent on the gory battlefield which had only beat that skill set even further into her metal head.

So, yes, putting pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding. She could do that.

As The Spine came closer through the heavy smoke and Rabbit surged forward through the sand to meet him, the soft glow of the elder’s optics wouldn’t be the only thing the silver automaton would have noticed. Thick coils of light hung from her head, a few streaks of that blue matter glow sitting at that odd ridge on her bare head. Hm, seemed like Rabbit had gotten a few more lights installed since you last saw her, doesn’t it, The Spine?

But finally, Rabbit caught sight of her brother’s tall silhouette, green photoreceptors cutting through the smoke. “I d-d-don’t know!” Propelled into immediate action or not, the distress in Rabbit’s tone was all too clearly heard, her grip on the human tightening. “But s-s-she’s real hurt! Gotta get her help! F-f-fast!”

Years upon years of war experience and simple logic told the automaton that the human’s life was already slipping through her fingers and gone, that any attempts to save the stranger would have been wasted when there were clearly far many others in need of help. But Rabbit wasn’t quite willing to give up yet. Stubborn in everything.

Yet, even as she moved forward through the smoke to meet up with her brother, the literal gears of her head spinning to keep up with all that was happening around her, the fact that The Spine was clearly alone had Rabbit’s metaphorical heart sinking, an unpleasant bubble gurgling at the bottom of her boiler.

“…Where’s Hatchy? Where’s P-Paigey? Ya haven’t f-f-found ‘em yet?!”

[awfulsentimetal]

There were definitely more lights shining through the smoke than there should have been. The Spine stumbled to a halt, staring with wide photo-receptors as Rabbit drew close enough for him to make out details. This was not the same automaton that had been crated beside him after the show.

His glowing gaze was drawn downward, toward the limp body in the copper automaton's grip. The half-realized fear that had gripped him eased with a guilty hiss of steam. The woman was unfamiliar. It was terrible to feel relieved.

Her skin was ashen and her chest still; there was so much blood, staining her clothes, staining Rabbit. As painful as it was, there was nothing they could do for her. If she wasn't gone yet, she would be soon. "Rabbit... put her down. She's dead. We'll... we'll give her a proper burial later, but right now there's other people we gotta help--people that've got a chance. Our family." The Spine knew he didn't need to say it, not really, because underneath the inexplicable changes to her chassis Rabbit was the same automaton that had been there when he was first brought online. The one that had taught him what family meant more than a century ago.

Whatever had happened to his brother--sister--would have to be sorted out after they had saved as many as they could from the wreckage.

[missfunction]

If it had been anyone other than The Spine, Rabbit would have put up a vicious fight, stubbornly drawing that crushed in head to her chest and childishly refusing to let go of the body or give up hope. But, this was the brother that she'd stood side-by-side with for nearly one hundred and eighteen years, the sibling who she'd experienced all of the wonders and horrors of life with. Despite their playful bickering and explosive arguments, The Spine was always her closest friend and confidant, the only member of the Walter family left who knew her as well as she knew herself.

Sure, The Jon and Hatchworth were so very important to her, but they were her baby brothers. The silver automaton was much more her equal and friend.

Skinny fingers twitched around the human woman's skull before Rabbit shifted into a kneel, the glow of her mismatched optics dimming as the stranger was set back down carefully onto the sand, the 'bot remaining there for just a moment longer, to gently adjust her position to something less horrifying than a corpse. Arms curled and head tilted to the side as if she was just taking a nap...

But then Rabbit was huffing steam and straightening, not-so-crooked mouth setting into a firm, unreadable line, though the look in her photoreceptors was still sorrowful. "Ya t-t-t-tt-take that side, check th' inside o' plane. I'll l-look near th' wing."

Time to find their family.

[awfulsentimetal]

"Right..." The Spine tore his gaze away from the lost woman, wishing that had something to cover her. It seemed inhuman, leaving her exposed to the elements like that. He glanced around, quickly, and spotted a suitcase nearby that had been thrown from the bowels of the plane. It had burst open on impact with the sand, spilling its contents.

A flowery sundress was used as an impromptu death shroud. The bright colors seemed irreverent; it was the best that he could do.

The sand seemed to suck at his heavy feet, slowing him down as he powered toward the wreckage. There were more bodies, broken and immobile. The plane had been nearly full. "Hello...? Is anyone--" Alive? He cut himself off and tried again. "Does anyone need help?" The passenger compartment of the jet lay open like a gaping wound, the tail half-submerged in the sea. The Spine approached carefully, sensors alerting him to fuel in the air and heat from the flames all around.

Gingerly, he stepped up into the listing compartment.

[yesterdaystomorrow]

Bodies. Strewn across the narrow walkway or still strapped safely into their assigned seats, the plane's interior was still horrifically filled with the lifeless corpses of those who had not survived the crash. And unfortunately for The Spine, it only took a single sweep of glowing photoreceptors to realize there could not possibly be anyone still living amongst the sheer number of dead in this place-...

But wait! A flash of blue and white stuck beneath a broken luggage compartment, a striped stockinged leg freckled with red splotches. But more importantly than that, there was a twitch of movement from the body, a signal of life still fighting on despite the fact the woman was being crushed.

[awfulsentimetal]

The one question that The Spine found himself dwelling on as he slowly made his way through the cabin was: how could anyone survive? Perhaps with the robots it made more sense, their crates could take a bit of a beating and, well, they clearly hadn't fallen far. There were so many bodies, all deathly still, that he was beginning to fear the worst. Perhaps nobody had survived, aside from himself and Rabbit.

Just the two of them, surrounded by an impassible and uncaring ocean until they rusted to a stop.

Then he saw her, striped leggings and white frock stained with blood, and he wished for a moment that his programming wasn't capable of simulating emotions. Sometimes they hurt. Right now, he felt as though his core had just been ripped right out of his chest. "Brianna--!"

There. Had she moved, or was it just wishful thinking? The Spine hurried forward, putting his shoulder to the caved metal and plastic.

[yesterdaystomorrow]

The ruined hunk of twisted metal and plastic groaned as The Spine was pushing that hefty weight up and off of the bloodied Walter Girl, and just as the crushing pressure left her small frame, Brianna was shifting again--Alive!!--curling onto her side as blue eyes flew open to seek her rescuer. But just as quickly as her very human gaze met his inhuman one, the woman was shuddering in pain, eyelids squeezing shut and hands wreathing into tight fists.

Even amongst the dirt and sand and blood on her uniform, the misshapen piece of shrapnel that was piercing out of her side was all too easy to spy, so innocently skewering Brianna in her abdomen as the Walter Girl twisted and writhed about in fevered, delirious pain.

"Spine...Spine--" She was trying to grasp at him, tiny hands snaking out without coordination, confused , as the woman refused to sit still now that she was free from her luggage compartment prison. “Don’t go….”