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    1. Leshy 6 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
Current Dick Cheney profited from Fortnite

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________________________
LOCATION: Beach
INTERACTIONS:@Forecaster
TIME OF DAY: Evening
HEALTH: Dislocated shoulder, minor concussion
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Will Gunderson


"Yes, it's very simple, just don't do it to fast, or-"

Will cuts out suddenly as she pulls on his arm, harshly cracking the arm back into the socket. Will grits his teeth and rubs his shoulder. He smiles at her last comment.

"I think you might have completely destroyed the socket..." He lets the sentence hang for a moment.

"Problem for another day." Will stands, laughing, obviously only fucking with the blonde. He stretches his newly located arm and turns to Angela.

"See? Good as new. First thing we should do is look through the luggage, see how much medical supplies we can find. We'll need needles and thread too, and any kind of alcohol we can find. I'm guessing a lot of us have cuts that will need to be closed, and we shouldn't resort to cauterization if we can help it. Will puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles.

"And thanks. I'll repay you by closing up that leg of yours."
He winks and turns away from Angela, towards various luggage spread about the beach. His shoulder is now bruising heavily, and definitely doesn't look fun to deal with. But Will doesn't seem to mind, happily whistling a tune as he digs through the suitcases. How he is doing internally, however, is a completely different story. Angela would be able to see him glancing back at the ocean seemingly out of habit, like he was looking for something that would never show up.

It doesn't take Will long to find the necessary items to start stitching, and soon returns to the fire with an assortment of pills and medical supplies.

"Luckily, it seems that we were flying with some paranoid ass motherfuckers, and an assortment of their panic packing has made it to the beach. Here."

Will tosses a bottle of vodka to Angela.

"Not sure how this got past security, but it's ours now. You're gonna want to down some of that, this is going to hurt a lot."

Will stares at her for a moment, small smile lighting up his features. He then sits down and starts to sterilize the needles with a smaller, plane legal bottle of alcohol. "What fucking luck we have. Let's hope I'm not the only bastard with medical experience." He thinks to himself, looking briefly down the beach at the others. He looks up at the jungle while sorting through the pills, praying this doesn't turn into some Cannibal Holocaust type bullshit.


________________________
LOCATION: Beach
INTERACTIONS:@Forecaster
TIME OF DAY: Evening
HEALTH: Dislocated shoulder, minor concussion
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Will Gunderson


Will stared out into the ocean for a long time, completely oblivious to the fact there were others injured around him. To be frank, he didn't really care. All he could think about was James,his body nearly aching with worry. Or maybe that was the crash. He hadn't decided, but it didn't matter. James wasn't there, and there wasn't anything Will could do about it, and for the first time in a very long time, Will felt cold and empty, the fire beside him doing nothing to warm his spirit. Sighing, he turned to look at the jungle maw spread out behind him. The jungle looked infinitely too dark, and worried him greatly. "Where in the fuck are we....." Will shivered and turned back to the fire, placing another cigarette in his mouth, and lighting a match from his ever shrinking supply. He drew deeply, exhaling smoke towards the darkening sky, eyes catching, once again, to the waves.

The sound of water used to calm him, there was something about storms that just made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and the sound of the ocean was no different. At least, it used to be. Now, all he could think about was watching the plane impact that cold dark water.........Will shivered once more at the thought. He thought it impossible for anyone to survive an impact like that, and yet, here they were. A bunch of fucking idiots covered in sand and blood. He smirked, as it seemed like he had been here before.

It took him a long time to realize someone was talking to him. He blinked a few times and looked at the blonde girl across from him.
"Huh? Firestarter? OH!" Will laughs, suddenly snapping back to everything else that's been going on around him.

"Names, right, that'll help, I'm Will. Will, uh, Gunderson." Will runs his good hand over his head, pushing back the hair from his face. He regards the girl with stormy blue eyes, noticing the the cut on her leg. He draws on the cigarette, bringing his gaze back up to her face.

"Seems like we made it out a little bit better than the ones down the beach." Will's eyes shift to the others momentarily, then focus back on Angela.

"Can you come over here for a moment, I need some help-" Pain shoots through Will's body as he attempts to move his left arm. He grits his teeth and continues.

"Re-relocating this. I basically just need you to pull, like, really fucking hard. I'm a navy medic and won't be able to help anyone until I get this little situation squared away." His tone is light and playful, almost like the awful situation that has befallen them wasn't happening.

________________________
LOCATION: Beach
INTERACTIONS:ANYONE
TIME OF DAY: Night
HEALTH: Dislocated shoulder, minor concussion
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Will Gunderson


Aboard the aircraft

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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.

"Fuck peggle." 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."

What? We're crashing? No way in hell I'm dying in this bathroom.... 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.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Island


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.
"Where......where am I?" 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.

Thank fucking allah...... 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 sure 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 James survived. He lit another cigarette and peered along the beach, looking for any sign of other survivors, just not wanting to be alone here.
@Eric Horst or I could have him live and NPC him, we’ll see.
@Eric Horst May have been a bit confusing, Will is my actual character, he doesn’t die, his brother does.


Will Gunderson


Age:29
Gender:Male
Race:White
Occupation: Marine Combat Medic
Sexuality:Straight
Martial Status:Single

Physiological Profile

//Like: Music, smoking, card games, Loyalty, friends
//Dislike: Anger, Bullies, helplessness
//Fears: Deep sea, Loneliness

Resources

//Skills: Combat, Emergency First Aid, Leading, Drawing
//Paraphernalia: Smashed Cellphone, pack of cigarettes, pocket journal, small pencil.

Appearance Details
Will is a wiry 29 year old 6'3'', 180 Ibs soldier. He has a bit of an undercut, and generally keeps his hair out of his face. To many, Will gives an outward intimidation. His face is very angular, and has intense blue-gray eyes, which are often hard to glean emotion from. He is considered physically fit, being a marine. He has a scar, running down his right cheek, and several tattoos on his left forearm, along with a number of different scars in his torso.



Character Synopsis
From the start, Will was looking after someone. Born with a twin, James, in New York City to abusive parents, he didn't have a great hand dealt to him from the get go. His parents ran one of the major taxi business's, and seemed to adamantly hate everything. Each other, their kids, their job, it didn't matter. Will grew up protecting James from their parents drunken arguments and assorted beatings. He made sure they both worked hard and got through school. They would both often come to school with bruises and cuts adorning their bodies, but most of the staff chalked it up to "Boys being boys." It took 15 years for them to finally leave. Their father, Alex, was particularly drunk one night, and brought out his handgun. This wasn't a cause for alarm, most of the time, he never kept it loaded. Will still doesn't know what finally set him off enough to actually load the gun. James was having an especially bad argument with Alex, and he brought out the gun, waving it around and acting tough. Eventually, their mom joined in and Alex got even more upset, waving the gun around more, then finally pulling the trigger. The boys watched as their mother fell to the floor, and went into shock. They didn't know what to do, so they ran. Gathered what money they could and took a bus to Maine.

For the next three years, they were essentially homeless. They made what money they could by running drugs and taking any odd job they could, and eventually, when they turned 18, they joined the military. Will as a combat medic for the marines, and James as an airforce pilot. Even though they were immediately deployed to fight Bush's war in the middle east, to the boys, it finally seemed like they had a purpose. The war divided the brothers, James not seeing much action as a fighter pilot, when Will saw heavy fighting in the middle east, and came back a different person than the boy that was sent to die in the desert. They tried to reconnect after the war, but Will was just too different, and they drifted apart.

It wasn't until years after the war that the boys got together again. A month before the fated flight, James hit up Will, saying his service as a pilot in the war netted him a couple of tickets to Hawaii. By this point, James was out of the military and lived back home, in rural New York with his wife. Will stayed in the military, serving several more tours after the war, and his leave lined up perfectly with the Hawaii trip. So, together they went, off into the wild blue yonder........



Personality
Will is generally a very upbeat and protective guy. Always quick to say something dumb just to get a laugh, he was often called Jester by his squad mates. He is quick to take charge, and gets along well with others. While this is true, he is very quick to judge people that remotely resemble his parents. Since the war ended, he has been fraying a bit around the edges. While previously he had sworn off alcohol, he has recently taken up the habit, and has became more reclusive, and does not like to open up about himself with others. He will almost always focus the conversation on the other person, as to avoid himself as a topic. It has been clear for a while that he has the beginning stages of PTSD.

Relationships
N/A

Miscellaneous
N/A

(Note, James is not a character per say, just a plot point. He won't survive the crash.)
New player to these forums, as i've usually stuck to reddit for RP in the past, I would love any tips on using this website. Also looking for sci-fi/horror rp's.



Will Gunderson


Age:29
Gender:Male
Race:White
Occupation: Marine Combat Medic
Sexuality:Straight
Martial Status:Single

Physiological Profile

//Like: Music, smoking, card games, Loyalty, friends
//Dislike: Anger, Bullies, helplessness
//Fears: Deep sea, Loneliness

Resources

//Skills: Combat, Emergency First Aid, Leading, Drawing
//Paraphernalia: Smashed Cellphone, pack of cigarettes, pocket journal, small pencil.

Appearance Details
Will is a wiry 29 year old 6'3'', 180 Ibs soldier. He has a bit of an undercut, and generally keeps his hair out of his face. To many, Will gives an outward intimidation. His face is very angular, and has intense blue-gray eyes, which are often hard to glean emotion from. He is considered physically fit, being a marine. He has a scar, running down his right cheek, and several tattoos on his left forearm, along with a number of different scars in his torso.



Character Synopsis
From the start, Will was looking after someone. Born with a twin, James, in New York City to abusive parents, he didn't have a great hand dealt to him from the get go. His parents ran one of the major taxi business's, and seemed to adamantly hate everything. Each other, their kids, their job, it didn't matter. Will grew up protecting James from their parents drunken arguments and assorted beatings. He made sure they both worked hard and got through school. They would both often come to school with bruises and cuts adorning their bodies, but most of the staff chalked it up to "Boys being boys." It took 15 years for them to finally leave. Their father, Alex, was particularly drunk one night, and brought out his handgun. This wasn't a cause for alarm, most of the time, he never kept it loaded. Will still doesn't know what finally set him off enough to actually load the gun. James was having an especially bad argument with Alex, and he brought out the gun, waving it around and acting tough. Eventually, their mom joined in and Alex got even more upset, waving the gun around more, then finally pulling the trigger. The boys watched as their mother fell to the floor, and went into shock. They didn't know what to do, so they ran. Gathered what money they could and took a bus to Maine.

For the next three years, they were essentially homeless. They made what money they could by running drugs and taking any odd job they could, and eventually, when they turned 18, they joined the military. Will as a combat medic for the marines, and James as an airforce pilot. Even though they were immediately deployed to fight Bush's war in the middle east, to the boys, it finally seemed like they had a purpose. The war divided the brothers, James not seeing much action as a fighter pilot, when Will saw heavy fighting in the middle east, and came back a different person than the boy that was sent to die in the desert. They tried to reconnect after the war, but Will was just too different, and they drifted apart.

It wasn't until years after the war that the boys got together again. A month before the fated flight, James hit up Will, saying his service as a pilot in the war netted him a couple of tickets to Hawaii. By this point, James was out of the military and lived back home, in rural New York with his wife. Will stayed in the military, serving several more tours after the war, and his leave lined up perfectly with the Hawaii trip. So, together they went, off into the wild blue yonder........



Personality
Will is generally a very upbeat and protective guy. Always quick to say something dumb just to get a laugh, he was often called Jester by his squad mates. He is quick to take charge, and gets along well with others. While this is true, he is very quick to judge people that remotely resemble his parents. Since the war ended, he has been fraying a bit around the edges. While previously he had sworn off alcohol, he has recently taken up the habit, and has became more reclusive, and does not like to open up about himself with others. He will almost always focus the conversation on the other person, as to avoid himself as a topic. It has been clear for a while that he has the beginning stages of PTSD.

Relationships
N/A

Miscellaneous
N/A

(Note, James is not a character per say, just a plot point. He won't survive the crash.)
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