[right][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/04/76/cd/0476cd609a1ac5f4e87ab6ca2f68219d.gif[/img][/right] [right] ________________________ LOCATION: Beach INTERACTIONS:ANYONE TIME OF DAY: Night HEALTH: Dislocated shoulder, minor concussion ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/right] ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [h1][center][color=00008B][b]Will Gunderson[/b][/color][/center][/h1] [Center][b] Aboard the aircraft [/b][/center] ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Will eye's glanced across the screen, closely examining every possible move he could make. He tapped lightly, and watched the ball completely miss everything. [color=6A5ACD]"Fuck peggle."[/color] Will exclaims quietly. He is suddenly knocked off balance, and leans against the wall of the bathroom as the intercoms crackle to life. "Passengers, this is your pilot speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, and prepare for impact." [color=6A5ACD][i]What? We're crashing? No way in hell I'm dying in this bathroom....[/i][/color] Will thought to himself, closing the door behind him, looking out at all the confused passengers. He heads down the row, towards his seat, but doesn't make it there. The plane lurches sickeningly, and he falls to his knees. Suddenly, one of the side doors rips itself open, and Will is sucked out into the open air as the cabin decompresses. _______________________________________________________________________ Freefall is an interesting phenomenon. To many, it is terrifying, and sends the brain into panic mode, but Will was just happy he wasn't on the plane when it hit the water. James had once commented about ejecting from a plane, and that if there is no parachute, the best case scenario that could happen would be to be near any body of water, and fortunately for Will, there was an abundance of the stuff. He attempted to straighten out his body before impact, but he didn't have the time, and hit the water nearly sideways. The impact fought to drive him unconscious, but this wasn't the first time Will has felt the feeling. He started kicking, driving himself towards the surface, sending even more adrenaline coursing through his veins. Water forced itself down his throat as he neared the open air, and he burst into the storm clogged air, choking and spitting out the harsh seawater, only to be met with another wave. He managed to stabilize himself, and look around for anything to latch onto. He noticed a medium sized suitcase floating a couple hundred feet away. Will struggled to the lifesaving carry-on, pain finally registering in his mind, and having next to no use of his left arm. As he neared, his vision began to blur, and he slowly lost consciousness. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [center][b] The Island [/b][/center] Will forced his eyes open, and little pinpricks of light filled his vision. They danced and swirled in front of him, like a million tiny fireflies. He stared at these lights for god knows how long before registering his surroundings. It started with the water, gently lapping at his fingertips, and then the pain. His head was throbbing, and he quickly realized the lights were stars. Millions of them, the most he had ever seen, and he was momentarily dumbfounded. [color=6A5ACD] "Where......where am I?" [/color] He mumbled to himself, slowly sitting up and looking around. That damned suitcase has next to him, along with a good amount of plane debris and other luggage. His medical training kicked in and he opened the suitcase, looking for something to use as a sling. Finding a suitable shirt, using his one good arm and a hefty amount of biting, he managed to get his bad arm in a makeshift sling. Continuing to dig through the suitcase, he finds a set of matches, an empty journal, some pencil's and cigarettes, all relatively dry. [color=6A5ACD][i]Thank fucking allah......[/i][/color] Will thinks, lighting a cigarette and drawing deeply. He stands slowly, and heads to the treeline to gather fire supplies. But, just before he reaches it, he stops suddenly, dropping to a crouch. You know that feeling when you think you hear something out of the ordinary, but aren't sure it actually happened? Like all the hairs standing up on your body at once, so you're [i]sure[/i] something happened, but have no memory of specifically what you heard? That's what happened, and Will scanned the treeline, instinctively reaching for his absent sidearm. He stays like this for a good while, then calms down and starts collecting wood and thatch. It isn't long before he has a small fire going. He takes off his shirt and suspends it over the fire, hoping to dry it out. Hoping others survived, hoping [i]James[/i] survived. He lit another cigarette and peered along the beach, looking for any sign of other survivors, just not wanting to be alone here.