[It's getting quiet again...too quiet. Oh, and I'm putting off writing my paper for my art class.]
It was dark. Shannon sat with her body facing the fire, but her head was turned toward the jungle. She watched it anxiously, fearing the moment she looked away something awful would jump out and grab her. Shivering slightly, she pulled the sleeve of her light shawl back up over her shoulder. Something moved inside the jungle, the wind sighed and she could hear whispering. She looked around, praying that it was just the people sitting nearby. Her eyes widened as she realized that most of them were asleep, and the ones that weren't sat silently, looking as terrified as she was. She scooted closer to the fire, thinking the light would keep away the would-be monsters that lurked a few yards away.
[[we are *so* getting this going!]]
Sayid wasn't going to let his temper go. Because it was that simple. It had to be. There was a world of difference between knee-jerk reactions and thinking on one's feet. Already he'd let his pride get the better of him with that man on the beach and gotten more scraped up than he cared to admit. And he'd broken his self-imposed moratorium on violence after a pitifully brief exchange of acrid language. He only hoped that rescue would come soon so that he could put it all behind him and get to Los Angeles before his visa expired.
As Sayid sat on the beach, fiddling with bits of this and that and setting aside a laptop battery that was dead beyond use, he heard a sound in the trees behind him. First he just sat up a little straighter. Then he heard it again. It was a rustle and a whisper, and there was something else, very far away -- imagined, surely, but he stood very slowly and turned to look into the jungle.
He didn't see anything. Just trees and shadows.
Sayid looked up the beach, seeing people dragging things through the sand, going through luggage. One woman, a slender bronzed blonde, was sunbathing. Sometimes someone would look to the jungle, and he wondered ...
"Did anyone else hear that?" he asked.
Charlie glanced around, but no one was looking at him, it was too chaotic. He slipped his fingers under the arch of his foot checking for the bag of powder and not finding it. For a moment, he thought about crying, already his body was aching, sore, probably from the impact of the crash. It could only get worse.
And then he remembered.
Maybe there was still a way...
Shannon opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the sun. She yawned sleepily and sat up, brushing the sand off her legs. Running a hand through her hair, she stood up and looked around. With a smug smile, she snickered to herself as she watched the people sorting through luggage and attempting to set up camp. "Don't they know that the rescue boats are coming," she said aloud before grabbing her bathing suit from her bag and going a few feet into the jungle to change.
The loud noises of what seemed active machines and the stinging sound of screaming and panicking people filled Locke’s ears. For a minute he had no idea what happened, and why heard those noises. Where was he? In the middle of the walkabout? He tried to open his eyes to see what the fuss was all about, but they felt soar, just like the rest of his body for that matter. He figured the best to do at the moment was trying to get up. If he sat up straight he’d be less vulnerable for whatever was happening around him.
Locke pushed himself up from the sand and felt it was awfully easy to do so. Opening his eyes fully he stared at his feet and especially the movement of his big toe had his interest. A smile crossed his face as he realized he could actually move it. Slowly he stood up and carefully he walked around the place. He focused on the situations around him. The loud noises seemed to divide in separate ones now. He heard a barking dog, a crying woman and his eye fell on a man that was running over the island screaming to everyone to help him save the wounded. Locke watched it all from a distance, feeling more calm than he had ever been. Now this was an interesting situation to practice his skills.
(OOC- I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were starting yet. )
She knew that the tail had been ripped off, but she couldn’t look back. Kate couldn’t face what she already knew to be true. She hadn’t passed out during the crash, only afterward from shock.
Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the bright sun. She sat up stiffly and painfully and stretched. Standing wasn’t an easy task either. The handcuffs lay discarded at her feet and she knew that she had to get rid of them. If anyone found them... a thought occurred to her. Was there anyone else? She took a look around and didn’t see anybody. In fact, all she could see was trees. She listened a moment and thought she could here water. She was near a beach.
Claire sat on the beach still rubbing her tummy, almost absent mindly as she took in all that had happened. Things had calmed down a bit, but there was still so much havoc in the aftermather of the crash. The man who had helped her was busy attending to other injured survivors. Had he told her he was a doctor? She couldn't remember.
She felt lonely and scared. She'd been alone on the plane. On her way to LA to do give up the baby. Maybe she shouldn't worry so much. After all they'd probably be rescued soon. She took a deep breath scanning the beach again and tensed up when she noticed a man walking toward her.
Sawyer boarded the flight hesitantly, he really didn't want to leave Austrailia but after what had happened he deemed it best to leave it behind. Austrailia was a life behind for him really, he went there for a con, nothing too hard but nothing too simple. He couldn't admit defeat to himself, he saw Jess's kid and freaked, left all the money there and walked out the door. He couldn't let one little messed up con to ruin his spirits.
He took a seat in the seat by the window, he wasn't a really good flier but earlier he had a few drinks so he was alright for now. The turbulance is all he remembers, waking up on some beach in the middle God knows where. He couldn't piece together what actually happedn. They crashed, 48 survivors, on a what seemed like a deserted island.
He stood up, got out his pack of cigarette's that were thankfully still there, light one up and pondered many things then. Sawyer took a drag, one that seemed to clear his mind for a half-a-second or longer, his eyes scanned the wreckage. Bodies, everywhere, People running about.
Sawyer picked up little facts just by standing there. One was a Doc, one was a self-titled princess, one was her brother...Boy, the whole lot seemed fucked up in a way.
"Son-uva-bitch.." he murmered to himself, "Son of a goddamn bitch..." he muttered again, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
[[OOC: Hope that's alright, I kind of got in the 'mood' of Sawyer there for a second, just let it flow :D COMMENTS AHOY..]]
Shannon sat down in the sand and pulled her legs up against her chest. Wiping a tear off her cheek, she noticed her bag sitting a few feet away. She got up and walked over to her bag, making sure nothing was missing. With a sigh, she pulled out a bottle of pearly pink nailpolish and began painting her toenails.
Charlie blinked. He'd had hallucinations before, but nothing like this. Fire everywhere and screaming people and explosions. It should have been terrifying, but it wasn't really. Merely interesting as the heroin coursed through him, he wandered about the beach and figured that he'd have to page a stewardess when he came back down, ask for a whiskey to help hold off the next jones...