Solitary Survivors. (Open for now)

Solitary Survivors. (Closed for now)

((OOC: This thread is now closed for inmates, but if you have ideas or questions visit theOOC Thread . There might be more openings soon for "natives".))

Nigel gripped the photo of his wife between his well worn fingertips. The way he was cuffed and shackled, his entire range of motion consisted merely of sitting upright, but even if he were unhindered, he would still be sitting right there staring ath the old worn photo.

How long had it been?

A year and half, maybe two...Bloody hell, it had been two and a half years since Nigel had seen his beautiful wife Clara. He'd neglected his family in favor of taking this nice "coushy" assignment in the States. He hadn't been home since before the Ireland assignment. Now he'd never get to see her again.

The government certainly told her that he was dead, if even that. They might have simply told her nothing, left her in the dark for all this time. At very least she'd be assuming the worst by now. Perhaps even remarried...

Nigel lifted a hand to scratch the dense stubble on his face. He was a fool. Of course she'd bloody well remarried. The woman was as beautifull as a goddess, nay, more beautiful. It must have been some mistake she'd ended up with him in the first place.

Nigel tucked the picture back into the pocket of his prison jumpsuit where he also kept his small tobacco poke. He tried staring out the little port-hole of a window, to take his mind off the thought of his beautiful wife Clara off knobbing some stranger in his bed.

The wing obscured most of Nigel's view, but Nigel could see a small sliver of the dense Amazon Rain Forest below. The thing looked so massive, beautiful and wild. It seemed so close even from that high.

Actually it was pretty close... They weren't nearly as high as they should have been.

That's when Nigel's keenly trained eye, caught sight of long black trails of oil working their way down the outside of one of the engines. The oil was spattering out onto the wing as well.

"Pilot!" Nigel shouted, his heavy accent obvious. "You're losing oil from your second engine. Lower altitude and find a spot to land. Put in a call for assistance right aw-OOF!"

Nigel was abruptly silenced by a rifle- butt colliding with the back of his skull. The heavy set guard behind Nigel smirked before spitting a mouthful of tobacco swill over Nigel's prison issue boots.

"'At's 'bout 'nuff 'atta yew limey-little baaastard." The Southern guard, drawled at Nigel.

It always had amazed Nigel that Yanks could talk and talk, yet never actually begin a single word. Nigel thought that he might be able to make a completely different sentance using only the letters his pudgy little assailent left out of his declaration.

"U a tough hoe!" Nigel exclaimed suddenly, as though he were a contestant on 'Countdown'.

This monumental accomplishment of language earned Nigel another smack to the skull. He wouldn't be too good at word puzzles if this continued.

"Ah'll show yew 'o da hoe is!" The guard shouted, raising his gun again.

"Wait!" The captain shouted, halting the guard's next attack. "We're losing altitude... my guages are all over the place."

"That's bloody well what I said, now init?" Nigel replied, trying to lift his shackled hands up to the back of his head to check for blood. "How i het u."

It wasn't quite the masterpiece his first letter scavenging sentance had been, but it still got the point across. Since Nigel was the only one who heard or understood this little game, he'd give himself credit.

Seira

She was always quite as she sat her on this stupid plane , Did she ever regret what she did Hell NO! the fucking bastard deserve what he got , But the cops that got in the way was her only regret she didn't mean to kill them ..

Seira since she got into prinson she learned alot but she never told anyone what she knew , She always had to protect her self because it seems everyone thought she was weak .. But she never used her knowledge of Martial Arts .. She hated useing it in fact because its what her father always made her do "fight seira kick ass Seira your just a weak livered chicken shit Seira "she ran his voice in her head and sighed ..

Shakeing her head with the thoughts and Noises sounded she undid her seat belt and saw one of the inmates get hurt and a few words exchanged..

I look at my guard and then back knowing I wouldn't be able to move from my seat as I turn completely around I look at the other prisoners ...

Each one had a story it seems .. Though it seems some of it loved it more and others almost regreted what they did ...


She had a Male guard that loved to torment the women inmates and I guess it was her turn as he cracked something at her back as she looked around at people "Sit down Bitch" she cried out in pain as she sat down

"Why did you do that you sick fuck!!" she bent forward she was never good at pain .. She huddled closer to the seat scared as she closed her eyes

She hardly talked but when she did a mouth full of pissed off woman is what they got .. How she wished people would just let her alone as the tears came down her eyes

"Oh look she the cry baby tonight" said the mean guard that hit her as he laughed at the tears in her eyes and the pain that he caused it ..

She guessed it didnt' pay to be a victim of circumstance

Matt shook his head, and attempted to look around.

what the hell had happened? he was in the toilet one minute with two marshals outside, the next minute he was in the middle of a jungle or something.

'Help'

He looked around in search of the voice, and saw one of the marshals laying not far from him, a large chunk of metal protrounding from his chest. He also saw the gun lying beside the man's broken arm.

Derek sat steely calm as the pilot panicked at the controls. He could hear yelling, the vicious thud of the rifle butt connecting with the back of another inmates head. He wondered if the plane was going down.

He found his mind wandering back to his bow... they had broken it, snapped in cleanly in half over his back when they caught him. Even his Evelyn was gone! His beautiful Evelyn, he fondly remembered the way the cool light of the moon reflected off her blade, and the wet satisfying sound she made when she entered a man's back. He hoped she was in good hands, maybe those of a woman, Evelyn would like that.

Derek heard a woman yell at a guard who struck her shortly before the plane began to scream. It was horrible snapping, twisting sound, as the metal from the bottom of the plane was ripped open by the trees below them. A violent shaking started, and then there was impact.

Mila sat quietly in her seat, as usual never saying a word. She wasn't a talkative woman, usually saving her words for those she felt truly deserved them. Her silence was her weapon and her shield, in most ways. No one ever knew what to expect from her... A glare or a knife in the back. And of course, there was always the fact that when she did speak, it usually made an impact. So some people who'd been around her for the short period of time in the prison back in the states often spent their time fearing what she could bring about with only a few words in the right ear.

It was like a game of chess, this new life. And she played the people around her like pawns. Some were more expendable than others, but each played their own part in the way the game turned out. Of course humans weren't quite as easy to handle as chess pieces... pesky things like morals and a lack of guts often got in the way. She frowned at the thought.

That was what had gotten her here in the first place. One of the men who was at the top of the food chain, just below her, was the one to help her kidnap a family who's father had failed to pay his debts and had thought he could get away with not paying for the meth Mila's people had provided for one of his big lavish parties. And Mila always got her money.

It would have been an easy job... get in to the house while daddy was out "working late"(in reality he was at his secretary's apartment, banging her while they were both too high on meth to be able to think straight), give him a ring on his cell, and let him hear the sounds of his beloved family struggling with the fear that they were going to have their brains blown out. Of course, that kind of death was too messy. They wouldn't actually die that way. Chances are the mother and daughter would be shipped overseas to pay off Daddy's debts with their bodies for the rest of their lives, while the boy would be given the choice... Work with them or die.

But of course, after only a few minutes of the girl's incessant blubbering, Michael had cracked. She'd seen the man rape, pillage, and plunder in every sense of the word... or at least every sense that was possible in today's society. He'd been reduced to a coward who tried to beg for the family's lives. Mila hadn't had the chance to shut him up before he'd dialed 911 on the families house phone and run off. Mila had run too, but it was too late. They brought her in and Michael got off scott-free. For a week, anyway. When her boys had found him, they'd seen to it he suffered for what he'd done.

And now here she was... playing the game behind prison walls just as she had done before she was convicted.

Ripped from her thoughts by the sound of a British accent shouting at the pilot, Mila arched a brow and watched the little verbal battle between guard and inmate, smirking some but still not showing more interest than that. Loosing altitude, eh? Her mismatched eyes(one blue, one green), glanced out the window and she wasn't surprised to see that it was true. They were probably only a few feet above the tree line now.

Double checking her safety belt, Mila settled back into her seat, hands clenching the arms as she waited, listening to the sound of the treetops tearing into the underbelly of the plane. Her eyes closed and she counted silently, gauging roughly how many seconds it would take before the inevitable... impact.

The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass, people yelling and screaming surrounded her, but still Mila stayed quiet, not making a sound, her eyes still closed, as she waited for the plane to come to a halt.

Maya

Maya sat chained hand and foot to her seat, a guard to her right. She sat quietly as a few of the passengers exchanged words with their guards two of them receiving blows for their words.

Turning her eyes down she thought back to that night, not regretting saving the young woman no more then 21yrs but still it had cost her, he life, her freedom, her honor, he government did not offer any assistence, they marely allowed her to be railroaded into this hell.

Her head snapped up as she heard trees cracking under the weight of the plane. They should not be this low yet they were, she could hear the pilot yelling something about lossing his engine, and the sicking sound of metal twisting under the impact of hitting the earth.

She sat her eyes closed a calm coming over her, perhaps she would not live to see this new prison, maybe her life would be ended here in the jungle as the plane continued to skid through the trees and ground.

Marliegh

She was cursing to high hell in her head. Not living in the United States, she didn't consider herself an American - but these assholes were smart. They had isolated Marliegh on the plane, calling her a kind of Houdini. With every strap and percaution she knew to exist, there would be little chance of escaping quickly, or even escaping at all.

She cursed herself endlessly for not being careful, for being too reckless. After years of cautious behavior Marliegh had decided to have a little fun with her occupation, which was fine. She got creative. That was fine too. But why was I so stupid? She thought. She knew her father, were he alive, would be ashamed of her. He would have never done something so incredibly stupid. She couldn't believe she'd left behind that damn receipt. One solitary paper was all that they needed to track her down and stop her before she'd gotten on the plane. And of course she didn't decide to escape sooner, because if she had she might've been able to. The last year had been nothing but troublesome and irratating. Marliegh decided that she would head to the Caribbean after the whole fiasco was done and she was again free.

As the hours drug on Marliegh listened carefully to every word, every footstep, every little sound that echoed her way. She slowly and quietly contorted her hands and legs to slip off the bindings. She heard one of the other passengers complain about loosing fuel, and the captain say something about loosing altitude and Marliegh began to curse again. Either her isolation chamber would save her, or it would certainly kill her. She began to hear the thud of the trees beneath her and she quickened her movements. Except for the barring around her legs she was free, and Marliegh prayed that the impact would provide enough force and pressure to break or bend the bar and release her. She took a deep breath as she braced the bottom of her boots against the metal screen and prepared for impact. This will certainly be interesting, Marliegh thought.

The guards would not be able to control or contain the inmates. She calculated the time and figured that they were over the Amazon by now, probably over Brazil. Three to four days due east would be Puerto Velho, but authorities would be looking for her there. If she travled northeast for about a week or two she would hit Manaus - a larger city she could hide in for a while and travel from.

The only problem would be first to survive the crash and the impact and then to try and shake off the other prisoners. Surely this wont be difficult, she thought sarcastically.

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Morrigan sat at the back of the plane, sensing panic in some of the Inmates. Looking out of the window, she realized the plane was at tree level. "That's too low!" she thought, crashing into a wall. Just a moment ago, they were upflight, her, casually reading a book in the staff back quarters. Now this? "What's going on here?" she called out to a guard, holding onto walls, making her way back to her seat, buckling in.

The guards each formed side by side to each inmate, making sure they sat put. Her eyes wide in horror, her life flashed before her. "I'll be there soon guys" she secretly prayed. The fiberglass outside shattered, a burst of adrenaline fueling the plane. Morrigan heard the tattered voices of the inmates, some laughed, others cried, whispering their prayers to their "Gods". A tear ran down Morrigan's cheek, looking down at the book she forgotten she had dropped.

Ironically enough, the book was about a plane crash filled with inmates from a secured prison. The book explained how all the prisoners claimed an island, killing eachother off. Her eyes did not leave that books cover, before she blacked out, feeling her stomach turn from the pressure of the drop they were enduring.

Morrigan was in hell. And she knew it. Her imagination ran wild in her dreams, before waking up to utter wreakage.

Crash

Nigel quickly decided his own survival was the immediate priority. He'd done what he could for the others, now it was all about surviving the imminent collision. The cuffs and shackles that joined him to the floor would do hold him in place well enough, but the slack in the chain between them might allow him to fall from his seat, that would be disasterous.

First Nigel tightened his seatbelt, as the low bass drumroll of treetops breaking under the plane's hull echoed throughout the cabin. Nigel pulled his chains rigid, wraping the slack around his hands and squeezing them tight against his abdomen. Nigel pressed his feet against the floor and his back against the seat, making himself solid, rigid, immobile.

The dolt of a guard grabbed onto Nigel's arm as the cabin shook violently, all of the damn fool guards were opting to secure the "cargo" rather than securing their own asses.

That was fine with Nigel...

The first impact with the taller trees tore both wings away from the sturdier hull and shattered the windows inward. Nigel shut his eyes tightly and breathed out through his nose. The jagged glass managed ontly to scratch his cheekbone just below the eye. It was still an injury that he would have to stay conscious of.

When Nigel opened his eyes again the guards were all gone. The loss of the wings had made the plane's hull into a speeding torpedo that rolled upside down on its destructive path through the canopy. Nigel looked up to see the fat redneck splattered over the ceiling. His spine had split, out the back of his neck when his head hit the ceiling. How appropriate for a red-neck.

By now the cuffs were digging into Nigel's wrists, he could feel the blood running down the backs of his fists. The tension on the chain was the only thing keeping him from joining tubby up on the roof and they hurt like bloody hell.

The pilots were the next to die in the jungle (Though certainly not the last). The entire front of the plane cumpled when it smashed into a trunk far enough down that it absorbed every bit of the plane's violent momentum all at once.

The plane stopped, the tree snapped, and Nigel's face bounced off the steel mesh in front of him. For a brief moment in time everything stood still. The first loud snap of the treetrunk shattered the momentary respite and the tail end of the plane tipped downward, the same way as the top of the tree did, slowly bowing forward and then tearing its way down through the branches and vines.

Foliage whipped and struck inward as they fell, the forest itself grabbing at their faces and bodies. The plane managed to do a front flip back to what could be considered "right-side" up before it struck the forest floor with a sickening thud. Nigel bit the shit out of his tongue, his mouth was full of blood immediately.

The sudden stop also launched what was left of the guards back down to the ground in a terrible shower of blood and bodies.

After that Nigel allowed himself to relax his muscles. He was just begining to take stock of the situation when the top half of the tree landed atop the roof with yet another terrifying smash, reigniting a few of the screamers.

"Bloody hell..." Nigel hissed, but before he even had a chance to express his displeasure at the rapid sucession of shitty things happening to them at once, he smelled the dense heavy smell of smoke. "FIRE! Someone get the bloody keys! The cabin is on fire!!"

The chains that just recently had saved his life were now virtually killing him.

"Someone get the keys before this whole bleedin' wreck blows us straight to hell!"

Being stuck in a I hate you sandwhich with the plane started to dive bomb its way to earth my lucky little guard had his own problems as she grabbed his keys and waved goodbye watching him get sucked down to the bottom of the ship from the air compression...




Seira heard the scream for help as she looked at him over her shoulder she made eye contact and nodded 'Bloody hell ' thought to her self slowly climbing over the seats towards him..


Looking around she shivered what a fucking mess in all the madness in the world right now was just cake on the iceing.. Grabing the guards keys she watched his body get sucked threw a hole as she looked at the other inmate

Useing the keys she unlockes him slowly moveing the chains as one gets sucked out of the plane..

Her guard already dead from his own stupidity she wasn't about to think about anyone else it was getting really close to crunch time ..

Sitting beside the man she helped she buckled her self in and closed her eyes putting her head down ..

She wondered how many were going to get thrown out and how many stuck to their seats ... Not a good thing as she hoped that plane wouldn't blow on on impact

At last the cabin was bathed in virtual silence, save the slow crackling sound of the flames, licking their way into the cabin from the collapsed cockpit. Nigel struggled for a few moments with his chains before a fairly striking blonde raced over with keys in hand.

"Oi! Bloody stupendous!" Nigel gushed, genuinely glad at this woman's pick-pocket ability. "Way 'ta be a hero, love!"

Nigel quickly shed his bonds and rubbed his raw and bloody wrists. Fighting infection out here was going to be an absolute chore. Still, he needed to slow down... 'One thing at a time, ol' chap'. Nigel snatched one of several handcuff keys off the ring, handing the rest back to her.

"Ok go quickly, get as many of the inmates uncuffed as you can then get the bloody hell out of this wreck." Nigel barked before climbing over his rescuer. "I'll do the same."

Nigel quickly uncuffed the few survivors who were sitting closer to the front of the plane before working his way toward the back. He rapidly undid shackles and cuffs, offering brief words of encouragement as he did.

"'Right then, out you go. Pip, pip, no time for dawdling. Freedom awaits you just outside this deathtrap." Nigel looked up just long enough to see a striking, though slightly frantic looking woman in the rear quarters of the plane. "Oi! You there! You're a doctor ain't 'cha love? Quick get as many supplies as you can carry and carry them ten feet or more from the wreck, light on your feet now!"

Nigel meant to watch her get up to determine if she really was as stunning as he'd first thought or if it was just his mind playing tricks from the long prison stay, but something else caught his attention.

The guard's gun.

Nigel quickly appropriated that handy little item as well as his nightstick. These thinks would do far more to ensure his survival than a glance at the sexy doctor's backside.

Maya

Othere then being a little banged up Maya survived the crash quite nicely, and when the guy with the accent uncuffed her he did not have to tell her twice to run far and fast from the wreck.

Heading down the isle between the seats she all but jumped out of the hole that had been torn clear through the floor.

Landing with a thud Maya ran for cover in the bushes but then decided more open torain would allow her to see any animals that might appraoch as well as any other survivors.

Crouching down low for a bit of cover Maya watched as other exicted the flaming plane.

Seira nodds at the man she resuced and then went to go save the others .. Unlocking each one as she finnally got out side she Looked around ..

and then back at the Plane as the others were slowly makeing theirs way out some got out faster then the others ..

She smiled seeing wild strawberries knowing they were fine to eat she put them in her pockets happily munching on some good fruite as she saw the man she rescued and shruged as she went and grab a a thick branch ..

She stole a knife and a few other things from kitchen of the plane as she worked her way out now she was whiddleing a stick .. Makeing her self a fishing pole...

Jadyn growled softly to herself as the plane started going down. Like many others she tightened her seatbelt and hung on for dear life as the crashing plane seemed to try and tear her apart along with it. She felt small pieces of metal go flashing past her and hissed as searing heat along the back of her neck told her that one of those pieces of shrapnel had caught her. Added to the other bruises and minor, and possibly major, injuries that were likely to be suffered she'd count her blessings if it was the worst.

At last the damned plane settled and she looked around her. Holding her hands up when one of the other inmates hurried by with keys and just as hurridly making her way out of the, now burning, plane, grumbling to herself, "Damned American's how like them to crash a plane full of convicts in the middle of the damned Amazon. I wonder if those of us that make it out alive with will a prize."

Outside the wreckage she moved out of the way of the rest of the disembarking inmates, and far away from the heat of the burning wreckage, and settled to assess the damage to her body. The slice across the back of her neck seemed deep enough that stitched might be a good idea but not so deep to have cause serious injury. Barring infection it would likely leave a nasty scar but not kill her. Other than that she had some dark bruises forming and her right knee ached but it didn't seem as if anything was broken or badly lacerated.

Deciding she'd live she started looking around to see if anyone else needed help.

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Morrigan felt a hand tap her shoulder, waking her up from her fear-induced dream. It was that rugged man in the 3rd row.. Nigel was his name? she thought, who was waking her up. He asked if she was a doctor, which curiously she nodded, getting herself up slowly. Nigel told her to grab the medical supplies, which she did, carrying them outside, carefully walking over the bloody corspes before her. "Omg" she whispered, looking away. So many guards died, so many inmates who didn't deserve this way to die. Her mind filled with sorrow, dropping off three boxes of medical supplies. "Don't touch anything until I come back!" she yelled, going back into the plane once more.


Morrigan looked around the cabin for anything else useful. She grabbed a knife and some extra strips of linen in case of anymore accidents. Her eyes darted beside her, noticing her book again. "Stupid Book" she mumbled, slamming it back down on the bloody floor. It was because of that book, that her mind ran wild, thinking of all those inmate survivors, now free with her, the only person who worked for the prison- alive. "This is great!" she grumbled, smelling gas. Her eyes darted to the other side of the plane, noticing the leak. "Oh crap! " she yelled, picking up her book, before running back out of the plane, holding the remainder of supplies under her arm. "Everyone move back! The plane's going to blow!!!!" she screamed, hearing the sound of thunder behind her, feeling the intense heat hit her back.


Morrigan fell on the wet dirt, dropping her supplies. Her eyes looked up, seeing the inmates watch her with cold, chilling eyes. She knew what each were capable of. Each were deadly in their own manner, and she.. she was prime bait. "I have to call out of here!" she thought to herself, pulling out her cell. She called for help, huddling herself into a tiny ball, scared for her life. Knowing this was not the time to hide from problems, Morrigan tried and tried again on her cell, calling the prison base for help. "Damn It!" she cried out, slamming down the phone. There was no use, she was stuck here with animals. Her mind raced, her heart beating fast. What was she to do? Her mind interupted her rants, as she heard a inmate yell in agony. It was her time to shine, and help these "animals".

Crawling to her feet, dusting herself off, she ran to a box, dragging it with her to the inmate. She chuckled at the inmate, complaining of a deep cut to the arm. "It'll be alright" she coaxed, grabbing out a needle and thread. A few stitches were nothing, it was the insane look in that inmates eye that made her worry.

Derek smiled happily as the pretty young woman uncuffed him, he had made it through the crash, and with only a half dozen or so minor cuts. His seat belt and the unlucky guard he had managed to wedged between him and the seat in front of him had saved him from having his head smashed in!

My it was a pleasant day! Standing up and and climbing toward on of the numerous exit holes in the plane, a dull gleam caught his eye. Sticking out of the back of one of the numerous dead guards was a knife, a simple kitchen blade by the look of it, most likely one of the inmates had grabbed it from the planes kitchen and finished off the man.

Pulling it loose with a jerk, Derek tested it's edge, it was really quite sharp, tucking it inside his orange uniform the blade facing out so as not too cut him he continued on his way happily humming to himself.

The kitchen knife told him it's name was Raya, and it had been quite lonely sitting there in the guards back. Of course Derek agreed, after all dead people didn't make for very good company.

He told Raya that their plane had crashed and she seemed pleased, saying that fate must have brought them together so that they may hunt! Derek liked this idea, and told her so.

Jumping out of the wreck of the plane onto the forest floor, Derek looked around. A man with an english accent was helping the other inmates. He was glad that they had survived. Hunting would have been so very lonely if it were only him and Raya.

Nigel noticed many of the inmates grabbing kitchen knives as they departed the burning aircraft. Whether they already had their minds on survival or darker intentions, it was a good instinct none the less. The last thing Nigel did before departing the aircraft was to appropriate some decent shoes.

The redneck guard who had tormented Nigel was proving quite useful, as he provided not only sturdy black boots but also a fairly large and sturdy "Boot knife" which would hold up far better than a kichen knife.

This knife was branded with the name "Pig Sticker", that was Nigel's only misgiving about the blade.

Nigel made it out of the plane in enough time to make sure all the survivors had made it out as well, doing a quick headcount.

Nigel lost count again when the engine finally ignited, spreading the fire into the cabin and surrounding underbrush for a moment. He was quick to gather up a bundle of dry brush that had caught fire, this flame was absolutely critical to their survival with so many natural (and human) predators around.

Enough bark and wood was gathered together to allow the fire room to grow and fuel to last for at least another 20 minutes.

Nigel saw the doctor from inside helping someone stich up a wound in their arm. The stunning young woman seemed to be the most shaken out of anyone, for understandable reason. She was the only civilian left alive in a jungle full of predators and convicts. She was also vitally important to their survival due to her skills. Nigel walked over to look after her.

"'allo there love. My name is Nigel, I used to serve for the British special forces. Nothing is going to happen to you alright? I promise." Nigel said, as reassuringly as he could. "Whatever antibiotics or antaseptics you might have in that little bag of tricks would be most useful. The last thing any of us need is an infection out here."

The crash had knocked Marliegh out cold. She'd been expecting heavy turbulance and she'd been praying that the isolation chamber would protect her well enough, but she didn't expect to hit her head as hard as she had.

As the inmates started to make a ruckus and get off the plane Marliegh stirred. She woke slowly with a dull headache in the back of her brain. She couldn't of been out for more than 10 minutes, but it was enough to make her extremely groggy. She inspected the damage and with a few heaves and lunges the door of the chamber fell forward. Many inmates were dead or dying, and still other inmates were getting off in a rush - stupidly thinking that they could enter the forest without worry.

Marliegh grabbed a couple bottles of water before jumping off onto the ground. Some inmates were talking and others were running off into the trees. She would have to wait until the smoke and the debri cleared before she could figure out what direction she would go in. She set up a piece of the wreckage far enough away from the plane itself and opened a bottle of water while she inspected herself for blood. Nothing. She cracked and stretched her bones as she watched everyone else carefully.

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Morrigan stood up to face the man before her, Nigel. "My name is Dr. Takashiro" she said polietly, before looking back at her patient. "I will try to help everyone as quickly as possible, which whatever I happen to have abroad" she said quietly, looking down at the ground. As nice as this man seemed, she knew not to trust him, especially knowing his crimes.

Flipping her hair away from her face, she went back to work, stitching the inmate with such care. She ignored Nigel watching her, not understanding why he wasn't running away or helping others. Sighing softly, she reached into the box, pulling out some antibiotic spray. "Now this may hurt" she replied softly, rubbing the stinging spray over the wound. Watching the inmates eyes grow wild, she stepped aback, calming the patient down.

Marliegh was no doctor. She knew very little about professional medicine. What she did know she'd learned through unfortuatne exerpience. She could reset a dislocated bone without an ounce of pain. She touched her head gingerly. As she saw a woman who was obviously a doctor, Marliegh thought it best to make sure she didn't have a concussion.

It was about high noon and Marliegh couldn't distinguish which way was east or west. So she would have to wait a little while; which didn't make her happy. She leaned forward. Marliegh hated talking to people. If it weren't for the occasional need for sex she wouldn't talk to people at all. It took almost every ounce of Marliegh to force herself to say something.

"Hey Doc," she finally called out. She stood and walked towards the woman. "Do me a favor. Tell me I'm good to travel." Marliegh felt no sense of guilt or remorse for interupting the woman. The men and women she was helping probably wouldnt live much longer anyways. She nodded to the man that was watching her.

"Hey," she mumbled.

Mila had sat deathly silent throughout the entire crash, next to her guard, who didn't seem to fare nearly as well in the sanity department as she did. Some people just couldn't handle pressure, she thought, opening one eye to watch his panic-stricken face for a brief moment, taking in his helpless look with a small smirk before closing her eyes once again, not pressing back into the seat. If there was anything logic could tell you about things like crashes... the more tense you are, the more likely you are to break something.

Instead she just wiggled in her seat a bit, enough to put pressure on her seat belt and be sure that it was tight, before relaxing and waiting for the inevitable. As the plane had done it's somersaults, her guard's body had been thrown about, and he ended up landing on top of her.

When the plane was finally still though, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at the back of a very dead... and very heavy... guard. With a sigh, she wriggled her hands down between his body and her lap, releasing her seat belt before finally pushing him off her with a soft "oof" sound. The motion immediately brought a hot, searing pain from her arm and she came to realize that it was likely dislocated, if not worse. With a soft growl, she let it hang limply at her side, lifting her legs and bracing her feet against his body, pushing him off into the aisle.

Another inmate stopped to unlock her cuffs, and Mila only nodded once to show her appreciation, though her face was still very much a blank mask. Standing, she saw the smoke leaving the cabin and frowned. The entire place was going to go up shortly. Climbing over the bodies in the aisle was little more than a minor chore, and soon she was dropping out of a hole in the underbelly of the plane, rolling some as she hit the ground, gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder as her arm was flopping about.

Standing again, she made her way a good deal off from the plane, toward a large tree. Staring at it for a moment, she suddenly threw herself at it, shoulder first, and with a loud pop, relief washed over her. It would be sore and probably swell, but at least she could still use it.

Rotating her arm slowly at the shoulder, she looked around for a long moment before leaning against that very same tree, eyes watching everything around her without saying a word.

Seira .. She walked into the ocean and stay perfectly still .. it was just a matter of time she watched the fish as she stabed one with the spear she made ..

She grinned she would at least eat good tonight as she threw the fish up on the beach and did it again..

By the time she was done she caught about 30 fish or so as she should of grabed a knife a she sat down "Hey does anyone have a knife so I can gut these fish? "

She looked at the inmates "Oh please do you want to eat or not?"

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Sighing softly at each inmates demanding requests, she bounced around helping everyone she could. A woman called out to her, asking if she was alright to leave. Finally she had enough. "And where do you think your going to leave to. hm? " she called out, her eyes daring. She was right. They were all trapped, worse, Morrigan knew they'd all go insane eventually, knowing they'll never go back home. She looked up to the sky for consolement, remembering her brother, Ju. "What would you do?" she whispered,her thoughts interrupted by a woman by the river. She walked over slowly, the amazon breeze flowing through her hair. Morrigan marveled at the girl's quick skill to hunt,handing her the knife she needed.

"Prehaps these inmates aren't so bad" she wondered, watching the girl again, searching for her notebook and pen. Yes, she would keep a log to monitor the inmate's mental stanges of paranoia. She could become famous after this, earn a PhD in Psychology. Walking over to a nearby tree in some share, she began jotting down notes, starting first with Nigel.

Maya

Maya sat there crouched down watching as the inmates got of the plane which was now a burning ball of tin. She saw a woman who must have been a doctor because she was stiching a person.

Looking around Maya tried to get her barrings as all she could see was a burning plane and a lot of dense greenery. Bloody jungle she thought, why couldn't they have crashed closer to civilization? Not having any pervious knowledge of most of the inmates Maya was sceptical about approaching any of them.

However the guy taking with the woman she had presummed to be a doctor had a ring of familiarity about him, he seemed to some kind of ex military and so she figured if any one she could trust him.

Getting up from her couching position she slowly was walked over not wanting to intrude but needing to formulate some kind of plan. Stepping up next to the man who had some sort of english accent she stood there and waited.

Nigel glanced up for a moment everyone seemed to have their own agenda. One was attempting to get clearance from the lovely doctor to leave their party. A few others had wandered off in search of food, while most of the others began slowly huddling around and looking to Nigel for what to do next.

"Everyone!" Nigel shouted standing up on a rock to be heard by everyone. "We have all been presented with a unique opportunity her, but it will come to naught if we don't realize the danger that we're in right now. These jungles are completely wild, with no ready sources of food or water and plenty of wild beasts just waiting to tear our bleedin' heads off. If we stick together, we might be able to make our way to freedom."

Nigel realized that he looked kind of silly, playing leader up on his soap box in his heavy orange jumpsuit. It was scorching hot and the humidity was such that the air seemed to weigh him down. Nigel took the time to fold down the top half of his jumsuit and tie it around his waist, exposing his muscular, glistening frame.

"For tonight we'd do best to tend to our wounded and rest here. We'll need fuel for the fire and materials to make shelter. After those things are done we can worry about hunting for food and water." Nigel began doing the numbers game in his head. "You there, bloke with the knife. Take one or two others with you to cut some decent branches. I'll take the good doctor and our lovely fisherwoman to find dry tender, some way to get our bearings and a hornets nest. If we don't burn somethign acrid before dark mosquitoes will eat us alive. The rest of you can see if anything survived the explosion once the ship stops smoldering."

Nigel motioned with his head for the two ladies to follow him into the wild unknown.

"We'd do well to hurry."