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Survival of the fittest is what most people would say in a situation like this. No way of communicating or getting off the island. The boats and planes that pass by dissapear and are never seen or heard from again. We all know the story of Jurassic Park on Isla Nublar (site A) and Isla Sorna (site B ). The dinosaurs escaped, killing everyone that they came across, and lets not forget that unfortunate accident in San Diego.
This island is not some tropical paradise. It may seem that way at first, but deep in the jungle of the island there are must larger things to worry about than just figuring out where to get a refreshing sip of water, or a nice meal. But what if there was a third island that not even John Hammond himself had spoken a word of? A secret that he had taken to his grave?
It had only been a matter of time before this island had been discovered. Just like before the dinosaurs had gotten lose killing everyone, and destorying everything in their path. Everyone who had once worked, or set foot on the on the island will never leave, and are stuck here until the end of time.
(This is a Lost and Jurassic Park crossover role play board. All rights belong to Steven Spielberg, Jeffrey Lieber, J. J. Abrams, Damon Lindelof. All characters belong to their rightful creators.)
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Banner was made by Kerri. Affiliate was made by Jen. Pictures belong to their rightful owners. Site video belong to Jen. All rights belong to Steven Spielberg, Jeffrey Lieber, J. J. Abrams, Damon Lindelof. All canon and original characters belong to their rightful owners. No copy wright infringment intended. This board is for role play purposes only.
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The crash had been unexpected. The plan had lost control the moment it entered into some strange fog. Amelia had been on planes before and never thought anything of it. The ride had gotten a little bumpy at first, and then the next thing they knew was that the wings of the plane were coming apart in the apparent bad weather that they were flying through. The last thing that Amelia remembered about being on the plan was they were plummeting and the moment the plan hit the ocean the plan started to sink.
Now here she was washed up on the beach. Barely breathing. Sand clung to her face, her hair and clothes. The sun was warm upon her skin. She woke with a start coughing up a bit of the sea water that was in her lungs and rolled onto her side, gasping for air. Once the ground under her stopped moving is when she opened her eyes and saw that she was lying upon a beach. Carefully she sat up and started to check over the damage that she had gone through during the crash.
She ached all over but she had all of her limbs still. Feeling something warm trickle along the side of her face she lifted her hand to wipe it away. Looking down at her hand she saw nothing but blood. She had a cut along her brow and a busted lip other than that there was hardly a scratch on her.
It was scary way of waking up, the boat crashing. One minute Victoria was sleeping soundly, dreaming of being anywhere but on that very boat with her obnoxious parents. Next thing she knew she was flying up off the couch she had made into a bed and hitting the roof of the cabin. The screams came next, and Victoria stumbled up off the floor where she landed, unable to keep herself upright. She soon realized that the reason she was falling over wasn't because of her, it was the boat unsteadily tipping this way and that way. People were running everywhere, her mother was yelling at her but she couldn't make sense of anything in her sleepy state, or maybe it was the way she hit her head. She was still seeing spots.
The camera crew that was taking picture of her family while on vacation went above deck to see what was going on. But they never returned because that’s when the boat started to rip apart. Water filled the cabin below alarmingly quickly and as Victoria was leading her mother up the stairs to air, everything went black. It was light out before she came to again. Victoria found herself lying on sand, her head was still spinning. Light a long night of drinking or after being at an amusement park, the feeling you get when you’re trying to sleep but your mind still feels like its back at the park, on another ride. She was vaguely aware of the pain on the right side of her body, her head was throbbing and her hands stung.
All she wanted to do was lay on that beach forever; she had no strength to get up, to move to do anything. As she came to her senses more the pain grew. It was only until her brain was able to remember how she got there that Victoria finally got up. The boat, the crash, her parents. Victoria jumped to her feat and whipped around looking for someone, for anything but there was no one around. Debris from the boat littered the ground. Victoria stumbled in the direction of the wreckage “Mom, dad?” she called out hoarsely. Her voice was almost gone and it stung; she must have swallowed a lot of sea water. No one answered her calls but she kept trying as she got closer, scared of what she might find. There were several bodies in the wreckage, all the camera crew were dead but unfortunately - or maybe she should be thankful – her parents were nowhere in sight. She wasn’t aware of the tears now rolling down her face. Victoria collapsed in the stand, unable to will herself to stand any longer. She took this time to assess the damage, her hands were cut and full of dried blood and sand. Her head had been bleeding as well but it too had dried to the side of her head.
Really though, she was lucky she wasn’t dead or had any missing body parts. Victoria made herself get up of the beach; she needed to find her parents or anyone else that survived the crash if they made it onto land. Would her parents really leave her like this if they had? Probably. But Victoria wasn’t as selfish, she needed to find them, she needed to see that they were alright. She was more steady on her feat this time as she staggered her way down the beach. As she passed the wall of rocks that the boat had undoubtably crashed into, Victoria saw that on the other side there was another woman sitting in the sand. Victoria broke out into a run, was it her mom? No. Was it someone on the boat? Unlikely. Still, she ran “H-hey!” she squeaked out hoarsely. “Have you- oh my god. Are you alright?” she was about to ask if she had seen anyone else walking around, until she noticed the state the other girl was in. Victoria was positive that she wasn’t on the boat now that she was facing the girl. But she looked like she had been through some sort of ordeal maybe similar to Victoria’s crash.
((hope you dint mind me joining :) this post is a lot longer than i meant it to be, my other posts wont be this long. i just really wanted to play out the aftermath of the crash))
Water noise. Water noise was always a nice sound to wake up to. The gentle push and pull of the tides as the waves crashed against the shore. Mm, yes, he could get used to this… What he could really do without though was the actual water. The cold, cold water that kept splashing over his face and getting in his nose. Wait. Ian blinked open his eyes and looked through his crooked, broken glasses at the sun beating down above him. Oh… Oooh. That wasn’t good.
It all came back to him in senses. The ‘whoof’ sort of sound as the plane took a nose dive into the ocean, the windows shattering inward, the engine exploding in a fiery inferno. Of the many skills Ian Malcolm had mastered over the course of his life, one he couldn’t add to his list was proper etiquette during a crisis. Bad weather had caused the last few minutes of the plane ride to be particularly turbulent, and the young man sitting next to him happened to be particularly prone to excessive in-air panic. When a flight attendant’s voice over the speaker system informed them that this disturbance was do to bad weather, the man had made the mistake of asking Ian if he thought the pilot was getting control of the situation. A pilot, he had to explain, regardless of his skill, could not get control over the fact that they were flying through bad weather. He could accommodate their flying to better suit what they should have already been prepared for, but expecting the weather to do anything of the sort for them would end in only disaster. The man hadn’t seemed particularly reassured.
‘Spontaneous engine failure’, the attendant was back on the intercom before the minute had passed. Spontaneous- as if every other time a planes engine exploded it was carefully thought out and agreed to by everyone inconvenienced… Sarcasm was a terrible defense mechanism. The man aside him was in a bug eyed, deep breathing, outright fit now. It hadn’t clicked yet for Ian. It didn’t click until they were going down. Screaming and scrambling for the safety gear, praying and preaching. Ever the pessimist, all Ian could do was think of all the ways he could die in the next few seconds. Blunt trauma, oxygen deprivation, blood loss. ‘Spontaneous engine failure’. The famous last words of a beautiful blond in a candy striper’s skirt.
He'd never actually passed out; at least he didn't right away because he could remember wishing he did. His body seemed to find every way possible to resist its most natural pain blocker, leaving him in a state where his body was useless but mind was at least vaguely aware of the carnage that surrounded him. The vague awareness now had become something almost akin to right consciousness, enough to make him realize he needed to figure out where he was and how bad an idea it would be for him to get up.
He lifted his left hand to his face, pleased to see it attached and functioning, and went from there. The right side of his body was numb, which he realized had a lot to do with the fact he'd been pressed against, partly burred under, a piece of the plane. So much for the benefits of a window seat, apparently. He tried and failed to lift the metal and decided he would just maneuver himself out from under it, something that proved quickly more effective. The return of blood flow as he got to a sitting position made him light headed, but it could have been much worse. Most of the cuts on his face from the glass had dried up, though few still bled out, but as the haze continued to wear off, he realized that he'd made it out relatively unscathed. And, on an island, which registered on his mind as both a curse and a blessing. It had certainly been a long time since Ian had willingly vacationed on a piece of land surrounded by ocean. The experience had been... ruined for him, to say the least. But, that was gone. Over. done. Taken care of. And most importantly, not here.
The piece of plane that been leaning on him hit the ground with a thud as it's sentient support rose to his feet, hissing as he realized unscathed had been a relative statement. His bad leg, of course. Island luck had already begun. He hoped silently that the damaged nerves were just taking longer to adjust to not being crushed and it wasn't anything that should have been more concerning. Because he had other things to be concerned about. Leaving was near the top of that list. And just under it, was finding people. And not.. remains of people. he'd seen a few of those now. And man who'd been sitting next to him.. arm.. not a sight for sore eyes. Had he been a little more.. with it, mentally, he'd most certainly be disturbed. But he also saw two women, very much still in the land of the living, just a little farther out. Well, it was time to make friends.
((sorry, this was supposed to be.. shorter, and uh, better lol))
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( I think you guys put me to shame. )
Amelia winced again when she moved her legs when she stretched to see what might have been broken. Her legs hurt from where one of the seats in the plane collided into her, before the water filled the cabin. Well only one leg really hurt since the other one was nothing but hard plastic. She didn't even want to think about what kind of damage might have been done to that one. If she could not walk, she was screwed, and might as well put a bullet in her brain now.
Hearing someone shout nearly startled her to death. It was not until she saw the other girl that she realized that there were other people here. There was a man not to far from them. But how? She didn't recognize the girl, but the guy seemed rather familiar, at least that is what she thought anyway.
She looked to the girl as she approached, putting her hand back over the cut on her brow and gave a nod of her head. "Yeah I think I am okay. Just a few scrapes." Amelia placed her hands into the sand, and slowly got up from the ground. Her good leg didn't feel too bad, though she felt a little light headed when she stood up. "Where are we?" Wasnt that the famous question.
Victoria nodded when the girl said she was alright. Her cuts didn’t look too bad, not that she was a nurse or any medical marvel that could tell the severity of a wound just by looking at it. Seeing the state of the girl on the beach before her, made Victoria wonder for the first time since the crash what she must look like to everyone else. She could feel the dried blood on the side of her head, but she hoped it felt worse than it really looked. “I have no idea, I’ve never seen anywhere with... tree’s like this,” she said as she turned to the forest, or jungle might have been the more correct term. The trees and other plants were indeed nothing like Victoria had seen before. The beach looked untouched and the plants along the edges of the jungle were growing wild and very un-groomed. This gave Victoria a bad feeling; this beach was obviously not a tourist attraction of where ever they were. It would probably be a long walk before they found other people.
It was then that Victoria looked towards the water, there were bodies here as well. Her eyes widened at the sight, it was evidently a crash, there were pieces of metal strewn everywhere. And, it looked like a piece of a plane, but not the whole thing. “Holy shit,” she said almost falling over at the sight. Really, how had she not noticed this? Victoria must be really off her game. There was a figure emerging from some of the rubble and began walking towards them. She had a million questions for the both of them, but first she had to make sure this newcomer wasn’t hurt too badly or drop dead suddenly. “Are you alright?” she asked running towards him, hoping he was alright. She really didn’t know what to do if he wasn’t. As she got closer she vaguely remembered him from somewhere, was he part of the camera crew? No, couldn’t be. He would be over by her crash site and not under some plane wreckage.
Once Ian was a few feet out of the mess itself, he could see there there had been, in fact, two accidents... unless the plane he was on had been carrying large boat parts... in which case, it really wasn’t very surprising they crashed. Two crashes at one time seemed completely impossible, but of course, "impossible" was a terrible premise to rule something out on when you knew that the basis was life was that anything could and would always happen.
Ian held up a hand when one of the women approached him, hopefully waving off her concern. “Fine. I’m fine… What about you two?” From what he could see they looked about in the same shape as him, certainly banged up but there wasn’t much they could do about that. “There’s, uh, there’s other people, aren’t there? We’re not the only ones?” He could only assume that if he’d made it out in this condition others besides them three had been as lucky. They’d just.. come to it first and gone off to do.. well, the very likely many things that needed to get done in this situation.
He'd never been much a survivalist type, really preferred the indoors and all, never went hiking or camping- but now there was a part of his brain spouting out a list. Some type of phone, assuming the was signal, or a radio. Food, water, medical supplies. All easier said than done though. He doubted much was salvageable from the boat or plane. The statement the black haired woman had made to the other one about the trees ran through his head on repeat. The trees were.. tall, to say the least about them. Normal trees, kept trees, didn't tower like this. Nearly uncharted, unclaimed Costa Rica island trees however... Well, he had been coming from that direction.
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She watched as the other girl started to approach the other man and looked around for a moment. What had happened? Something was not right about all of this. She had been terrified of flying to begin with and this just proved her point that flying was dangerous. But she wanted the job offer that she applied for and she was willing to do what it took to get what she wanted, and now here she was stranded.
Amelia took a couple of steps wincing when she felt her thigh twing from putting pressure on the prosthetic. It was stiff to move at first with it being watered boarded and full of sand. Some of that would have to be delt with later, the last thing they needed to know was that they had someone with a lame leg.
Slowly and stiffly she approached the man as well. "Nothing that some asprin and a couple of drinks would not cure." She grimaced again and paused to catch her breath a bit. "I havent seen anyone else besides the two of you."
Good, everyone was alright. Well sort of, the three standing on the beach were alright. “I’m alright,” she answered. Maybe alright wasn’t the right word for this situation, she was alive and moving so that’s all that really mattered. “I haven’t seen anyone else either,” she added in agreement with the girl. “But I was on a boat with my parents. Everyone on the boat is dead by the wreckage, all the camera crew except my parents; I couldn’t find them anywhere.” She left this statement open ended. It could quite possibly mean they were alive and elsewhere or they were dead and in the water and never made it to shore. “I don’t think this is the whole plane though. Unless you were traveling on a very small one, it looks like only part of it. So there might be hope of other still alive.” This sounded too optimistic to Victoria, the three of them seemed unusually lucky in their various accidents.
“Sooo what now? Do you think there’s a town around here? The beach looks pretty untouched and the jungle looks too overgrown to be visited by people recently.” Oh god, she hoped they weren’t on some uncontacted island with cannibals and wild tribesmen. The thought sent chills up her spine, no they had to be somewhere near civilization, the yaht she was on wasn’t supposed to be going too far. There had to be a hotel or something nearby. She hoped these people wouldn’t mind stopping off at her wreckage to get some stuff she could take to the hotel to change into. Victoria only noticed now that she was still wearing the clothes she fell asleep in, black sweatpants, a red tanktop and no shoes. That was going to be a pain to trek through a jungle in; she hoped her runners were miraculously left dry.
No other survivors. It was possible, he wasn’t saying it wasn’t, but right now that was how they needed to be thinking. Black hair couldn't find anyone alive on the boat and he couldn't find anyone alive on the plane. IF there were other survivors, they'd been off on their own since who knows when, and who knows what happened to them.
There were a lot of bad things Ian could say about their current situation, but at least the two women who’d also survived were intelligent. The black haired one enough to be concerned and the red head thinking along the lines of aspirin and alcohol- which really did sound good right now, despite it's unlikeliness. "I like the way you think." he managed a grin back at the statement. Neither of them were crying and neither of them were excited so up until the black haired one started talking again, Ian had been counting his blessings. Maybe, just maybe they’d get out of there yet.
“I hope I’m wrong. I really hope I’m wrong- I’m usually not though, about these things. But I.. I don’t think we’re going to be finding any towns anywhere around here.” There was simply too much.. nature around, for any type of industrial setting to last. Maybe a small tribal community, but when Ian thought of them he thought about cannibals with face paint and a limited understanding of the English language- so it didn’t seem particularly consoling. It was possible things were better on the other side of the island but trekking there wasn't exactly something they could do and go back on. If any form of rescue came, they'd be looking for the crash site.
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( Just so you guys know I do have other threads open on the board if anyone wanted to join.)
Thanks to some of her classes she had learned a little bit about what was needed at a dig site. She was in training to be a palentologist after all. She was already making a list in her head of the things that they were going to have to do to survive until help came. Who knows how long that was going to be. Did anyone even know that the plane had crashed. Wait did the girl just mention a boat? Maybe when their plan had crashed, they had hit it? No that would not be possible.
"I think the first thing that we need to do is go through some of the luggage that washed up on shore and see what we can find. Food, water, cell phones."Anything that might get a signal out here."
Turning around she limped her way back over to where she had been before. There had been a couple of suit cases that had washed up along beside her. She unzipped them and started to rummage around through the clothes, and all the pockets of one, and found nothing. Then she moved to another one. Cell phone!!! She stood up and held the phone up as high as she could, it still had a little bit of battery life, but there was no signal.
Well, maybe finding a town was a bit of a far-fetched idea but she pictured the Brazilian jungle, there was Brazil on the other side of it. Along with 2 billion other way to die inside of it and who knows how many uncontacted tribes and even more hostile ones. Now when she looked at the forest she was picturing cannibals, spear wielding villagers, poisonous spiders, poisonous ants, jaguars and all manner of undesirable things that could kill them. She was only torn from this very lovely image by the other girl who suggested looking through the luggage for some food, water and anything else useful.
She nodded in response, “I’ll check my crash site. There should be several dozen cell phones over there if they survived. And, a mini fridge full of water,” she said as she started walking back to the boat. Her wreckage didn’t nicely wash the luggage up onto the beach, no she had to climb on the rocks, open compartments, and maneuver her way around the dead bodies. She was lucky she had a strong stomach; she knew her mother wouldn’t have been able to handle the carnage.
Finally she found the mini fridge, beat up and punctured open by the sharp rocks. Several of the bottles had also been punctured and squished but she managed to find eight unharmed. After placing them all down in the sand by the bags, she turned her attention to the bags. Victoria had managed to find four of the camera crews’ bags. She didn’t know which ones belonged to which but it was hardly an issue at this time. She also found a bag belonging to her father and her own backpack and duffel bag. No sign of her other luggage just yet. Victoria decided she would start with her own luggage, it thankfully held her brand new gym shoes, a few pairs of socks, shorts, sweaters shirts, pants and - her favourite leather jacket. Well, she was happy to have her clothes back; she also found her toothbrush, toothpaste and other items. No sign of her iPhone though, Victoria was fairly sure she had fallen asleep with it instead of putting it safely away in one of her bags. She was unlikely to ever see it again.
The other bags mainly carried clothes and camera equipment; there was no sign of a cell phone. Although she had a feeling that if anyone on that boat had a cell phone they would have had it on them when they crashed. “No cell phones but I did find water,” she notified them, grabbing her duffel bag and backpack she plopped them in the sand next to the girl. The water she had in her hands she gave the girl two of the water bottles and moved over to where the guy was and gave him two as well. “There’s enough for two bottles each and two extra. The only other things I could find were clothes and camera equipment.” That pretty much summed it up; she was hoping they’d had more luck. The girl seemed to have found a cell phone. It didn’t seem to have a signal though or she probably would have mentioned it.
Seeing both women take off in the direction of their respected, er, arrivals, Ian figured that signed him up to go picking around the wrecked plane. He watched them for just another brief moment before walking back to the wreckage and trying to see if the luggage compartment was still sealed shut. He doubted that the plane’s food and radio supply were in this segment but there must have been something useful among the miscellaneous bags. He gave the latch a few tugs until finally it fell open, contents splashing in the water that had filled up the compartment.
He pulled them out one by one and rummaged through them. Clothes. Lots of clothes. They didn’t really need those. One phone with no signal. One laptop equally as useless. A few bags of no-name brand chips and some of those airline peanuts that took longer to open than they did to eat. And a pack of bubble gum. Next time he flew, assuming he flew again, he was bringing more convenient supplies with him. He took out the things that he wouldn't need from his black duffle bag and filled it up with the things he'd found. Stepping on to the sand again he looked around at the floor and picked up a piece of the wreckage. He didn’t know exactly what it was but it was a good few inches, sharp, not too heavy, and it seemed like it’d do good to keep on them. Especially if they were going into the jungle, which he happened to be very against.
Meeting back up with the girls, he nodded a thanks when black hair handed him two water bottles. “Cells are all down." Red hair seemed to have that figured out already. "Found something to eat though.” He showed off the bag. Rationing it out, that was maybe, one bag of nuts for each of them and a little ore than a handful of chips. He didn’t know how they wanted to split them without having to open everything so he just left them next to the extra waters. “And- this” he gestured to the improvised weapon. "So what now?"
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"Thank you," she said to the other girl who had given her the bottle of water. She opened one and took a small sip. She wanted to down the whole thing to get the taste of the salt water out of her mouth but she knew that they had to attempt to ration what supplies that they had. So she only took a small sip and swirled it around her mouth and placed the cap back on. It was tempting to just drink both bottles.
Amelia looked to Ian when he handed out the bag of peanuts, but she was not as hungry as she would have liked to have been. Looking at the bag of peanuts just made her sick to her stomach. She placed her hand over her stomach and she felt a little queasy just about thinking of the fact that they may never get home. STOP IT! It was no time to think like that, she couldn't. If she did it would only just send her into a panic. "Maybe we should start a fire or something, start building a shelter out of the parts to the plane that we can find?"
Victoria smiled in thanks for the peanuts; she put them in her bag unable to make herself eat them. It was probably all the salt water she had consumed. “Well first, I think we should actually introduce ourselves because I’m starting to feel weird calling you ‘the girl’ and ‘the guy’. So, my name is Victoria,” she said to the both of them. “And I think starting on a shelter is a good idea, this place seems like it would get a lot of rain. Closer to the jungle would be a good idea, I’d imagine the tide comes in quite a bit when it rains.” Victoria mentally thanked the show ‘Survivorman’ for this little tidbit of information. Without it she would have probably suggested that they stay closer to the water in hopes that a rescue would see them more clearly.
She also wanted to mention that the amount of food and water that they had will not last long and that they should start thinking of other means to get it. Like, trekking into the jungle for example; but ultimately decided not to bring it up just yet, one problem at a time. Victoria picked up her backpack and duffel bag, preparing herself to take them up to the treeline when they were all agreed that a shelter was the best thing to start on first.
Ian couldn’t bring himself to eat or drink anything. He was getting that really bad feeling about this and it was only increasing the more he thought about it. Names seemed like a brilliant idea. It couldn’t have been appropriate to go who knows how long things on the women by only their hair color. He nodded. “I’m Ian.”
No. No. He really wasn’t for the jungle idea, high tides be damned. At least with them they knew what they were in for, but the jungle had the potential to be all kinds of deadly, and all kinds of untraceable, and now they were going to waltz right into it. That was not a good idea. “It, uh, you know, doesn’t look all that rainy right now.” He pointed up with his eyes. It did look like it was going to rain though later, so it probably wasn’t that great an argument. Especially considering that the jungle was a fifty-fifty shot at disaster. He could have been being paranoid and maybe Victoria was right and there was a hotel with a five course meal waiting for them…. Yeah. And maybe pigs would fly. Why did nobody ever listen to him.? "And if anyone comes, hears about the crash.. they'll have to eventually... uh, believe me- they wont come looking for us." No. the smart rescue teams were all very adamant about the fact that the stranded, injured, being chased around by predators people were always the ones that had to find their way to wherever the plane saw it most conveniant to land. There was something very wrong with that picture too.
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