Pilatus

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

I think I had mentioned something about the time of day in Cole's post. I think we're closer to late afternoon.

Couple questions, and I did not mean to start an impromptu role call.

1. What is the season? Early Spring or late Fall would make the most sense.

2. How long are we going to keep the game open for apps? Not trying to rush anyone at all. We're soon going to be approaching a point where the survivors will be leaving the plane so it will be hard to write-in new characters that would have been there from the start.

Just some quick ramblings.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

No big deal, still here.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Cole slid down the side of the top hatch to the side of the plane. He had found the cabin door to be jammed shut, which was not a good sign at all. All in all, for those in the front of the plane, the landing wasn’t that bad comparatively. In fact, he was rather proud of the job he and Xi had done in setting her down. The two of them had walked away. Any landing you can walk away from… As the old flying adage went. He doubted some of the passengers would appreciate the sentiment though.

The plane itself was in better condition overall than he’d first thought. The emergency landing was as textbook as anyone could have asked for and they’d followed the procedures. Aviate, Navigate, Communicate. The third one he’d get to in time. The wings stuck up from the earth on both ends and the props were sadly peeled back like molted flowers over the still smoking turbines. He shook his head. What a bloody waste…. He thought. She had slid on her fuel weight in the belly once they hit pushing a decent mound of dirt and mud around the forward section of the aircraft. The tail section, the part he most wanted to examine was angled up in the air, still attached, but as he came around over the wing. He found what he had suspected.

The cargo loading doors were gone. The whole assembly was missing and completely blown off down to the hydraulic hinges. The stinking smell of the fluid was everywhere and was streaked down the side of plane past the rudder. One piece had struck the tail when it came off which had caused the jam in the elevator. The whole section was badly mauled. It was a wonder the tail had even stayed attached. If they’d lost it in the air there would have been no saving them. That was no consolation to the passengers though. Those in the back near where they had loaded the cargo had an especially rough go of it. He was both proud and ashamed at the same time.

The greasy aroma of jet fuel also mingled noticeably in the air from the open jettison valves which he stooped to investigate when he heard some voices from inside the cabin. He needed make sure no one lit one up in the joy of survival and blew them all to hell after what they’d just been through. Stranger things had happened.

“We’re about two-hundred miles west of Lhasa.” He said stepping up through the destroyed cargo bay and looking at those awake and alert. His voice was gruff as if he’d just pulled the aircraft over to make a stop at a rest area. “Our transponder and GPS are still active, but will only last as long the batteries." He said answering the question at hand. "We need to get everyone out of this aircraft as soon as possible until my first officer and I can check it over... And whatever you do," He said pausing briefly for effect. "Do not smoke around this aircraft."

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

I will probably post again tomorrow. I felt obligated to write the crash and try to catch up with where we are now. Will go for some character interaction on the next one.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

The takeoff roll had been a particularly laborious affair. Cargo was never permitted to ride in front of passengers and combined with their baggage; the tailwheel was sluggish to lift from the runway. Not to mention the fuel load that would take them home to Lhasa had put them right under max takeoff weight. Luckily, Gunsa had a plentiful runway and Cole had been obliged to use a plentiful amount. He’d been pretty liberal on the throttles to get them climbed out safely and was sure the passengers probably didn’t appreciate the deafening sound of the turbo-props. From the cabin they were exceptionally loud, rhythmically churning under the heavy load, but climbing nonetheless.

Normally he enjoyed a challenging departure under heavy weight. Throw in a cross-wind, a dirt strip and a building snowstorm and he was right at home. The high altitude demanded a delicate touch on the controls or a pilot could find himself in a precarious situation rather quickly. This time though, he’d hardly said a word once again letting Xi handle all the call outs and watch the gauges. His face was stern as they came towards end of the departure procedure and as soon as they were clear with Gunsa control and under their own navigation, he handed the controls over to Xi and grabbed his clipboard. For about the fiftieth time since he’d swiped them off the dispatch printer, he began scanning the ship’s papers.

Pilots were naturally a superstitious lot and for Cole the day had far too much of the unexpected. As a bit of a student of aviation history he knew all the classics had been marked by little hiccups and doses of the unusual along the way that eventually culminated in total disaster: Tenerife, Pan Am 103, TWA 800, 9/11. His eyes looked over the cargo manifest. He’d taken on four heavy containers simply marked on the manifest as CG which meant, Chinese Government with a weight measurement. He’d hauled them before, but never more than one or two. The regular pilots just referred to them as “bricks” because no one ever knew what was in them and the load amounted to unknown dead weight. As the captain he could technically refuse any cargo he deemed unsafe, but thus far he’d never heard of any airman turning away the Chinese authorities.

He ran a hand over his face. What was even more unusual were some of the passengers. Some of them had been permitted to transport weapons. This was unheard of. If it hadn’t been for the containers he would have swiftly left them on the ramp at Gunsa. Sometimes one had to know when to keep his mouth shut though. He glanced up at their airspeed. Xi had them nestled into a speedy cruise. The young Chinaman may not have spoken perfect English, but as a flyer, he knew when something stunk. They would both be damn glad to reach Lhasa.

---

They had just about put two hours behind them when Cole accepted a cup of tea from the flight attendant. She was nice enough and not bad looking either. He was just into the first hot sips when the whole aircraft shuddered violently as if a great hand had just swatted their port side. The cup flew out of Cole’s hands and the horizon tilted unnaturally across the windshield. His hands were instantly on the controls before he could say, “What the fuck was that?!”

The aircraft rapidly began lurching harder to port with an ominous mechanical groan. The control yoke along with whole plane itself began shaking with turbulence. Cole found the elevators nearly unresponsive and he quickly abandoned all delicacy and hauled back hard on the column jamming the rudder pedals hoping to ease the downward sideslip of the nose. He was almost standing up in his seat under his belts looking comically as if he were trying to hold the whole weight of the plane in the air with shear brute force.

Directly above and dead-center of the overhead panel was the fire control panel and Cole instinctively glanced up at it. Only one red light was lit, AFT CRG the rear cargo bay next to the loading doors. Holy Shit, we’re on fire... He thought. Almost as soon as the thought ended he saw Xi’s fingers swiftly activate the fire suppression system.

“She’s too damn heavy!” Cole shouted. He knew his efforts were only slowing the inevitable if they didn’t do something, immediately. The nose was still dropping and the airspeed continued to increase. Once they accelerated past the maximum performance envelope the whole thing would fly apart before they hit the ground. “Dump the wing-tanks!” By some stroke of genius or accounting oversight, someone had ordered all the BT-67’s in the company with the very expensive fuel jettison feature. Using both hands simultaneously, Xi flipped back the safeties and mashed the switches forcefully. For a millisecond, Cole fleetingly hoped the fire suppression system had worked otherwise they were about to spray the flaming tail section with jet fuel.

After a few seconds the nose-dive started to ease enough that they began gradually losing some airspeed to drag, but were still descending and the Tibetan plateau was filling the windscreen rapidly. The whole aircraft continued to stubbornly slip to port forcing Cole to keep it countered with what was left of the rudder response and the ailerons. The wings lightened as they emptied their burden of fuel, but the elevator seemed to be immovable keeping them pointed towards the Earth. “We’re not going to get out of this dive.” He said grimly. “When we dip below one-twenty lower the gear and start dropping the flaps on my command.”

The BT-67 conversion process carried over the DC-3’s massive flap array which when fully deployed looked like a giant row of paneled doors hanging from beneath the wings. If a pilot dropped them too early on a normal approach they could raise the nose and muck up the landing. Since Cole knew his aircraft was only going to make one more landing, he planned to have Xi slow them with the first two notches on the flap control then dump the rest when they were right over the ground. God willing, they would belly-in instead of strike nose first. He hoped the landing gear would only help cushion the impact. Whatever the case, he knew if they hit too hard the belly fuel tanks, where fuel could not be jettisoned, would ignite and likely kill everyone that was still alive.

Both men tightened as the ground came up. Cole had pointed the nose at the best looking place he could manage. What appeared to be an ancient riverbed. For a moment he could see their shadow coming up to meet them like a dark wraith in waiting.

Xi faithfully dumped the flaps on command and the nose immediately rose above the horizon on an invisible cushion as the air flow under the wings was disrupted. Cole felt the port tire and gear strut hit first and for a moment it almost felt as if it would hold, but the hit was hard, very hard. The starboard tire contacted the ground right at the moment its portside counterpart failed and folded back under the wing and from that moment they were passengers along with everyone else.

Just hold together… Cole thought to himself. He still gripped the column as they rode out the belly strike. Every bolt, every screw, every gauge, every molecule in Cole’s body shook like nothing he’d ever felt. He waited for the fireball, but it didn’t come. Only more dirt and dust kicked up over the nose as they slid and after only a few short seconds, stopped in total silence.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Should have an IC post up tomorrow.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Done and posted with writing sample. If it's all kosher, I'll jump in on the IC board.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Coleman Lee Stephens

---

Up there the world is divided into bastards and suckers. Make your choice. -Derek Robinson, Piece of Cake, 1983
{Into the Black} by {Neil Young}
{Hearts Burst Into Fire} by {Bullet For My Valentine}

---

This Is Your Captain Speaking

{} Full-Birth Given Name {}

Coleman Lee Stephenson

{} Preferred Name | Nickname {}

Cole

{} Sex Identification {}

Male, hetero

{} Established In {}

June 6, 1985, 31-years-old

{} Someone Back Home {}

Has one younger sister back home, Jessica, and both parents still alive.

{} Also Knowing {}

Hailing from north Florida, Cole grew up around aircraft and was carried by the interest from an early age. College and thoughts of later joining the military as an officer tempted him in his teens, but he simply never felt a true calling to it, too many hassles. After attaining his private pilot’s license he set out on his own to gain experience and hours feeling his first call of the wild flying light aircraft in Alaska. He crashed his first plane and gained his commercial license and twin engine rating in the lower fjords before moving on to flying scientists, tourists and equipment in the Australian Outback. Higher pay, new scenery and allure of unfamiliar aircraft brought him to a small airline serving the Tibetan Wilderness. He’s been in the left seat flying various cargo and passengers for about four years over Tibet and has a good reputation with airline’s regular customers and native people.

---

You Know You’ve Arrived

{} Personality {}

Cole has a very gruff air about him and standing next to a dirty, overworked, aircraft one could tell that he was the captain even without his wings on. He’s very aware of himself and likes the gritty vibe that others get from him, like an old sailor, he enjoys the fact that he normally smells of exhaust fumes and worn upholstery. It’s an effect that he’s worked for years to achieve (and faked in his early career) and within the last few years, really feels like he’s come into: The vision of a man doing what he was meant to do. He’s very perfectionistic and detail oriented sometimes to the annoyance of others. Also a bit of a procrastinator, Cole has found, in his view, that many don’t meet up to his expectations, so he tends to place low standards on people to avoid feeling disappointed. He has a very short nerve for political conversations and likes to publicly voice how glad he is to be out of the United States and in the middle of nowhere when prompted, sometimes to the embarrassment of others.

{} Quirks | Habits {}

-Walks with an odd swagger, some may even call it a limp, it is highlighted by the sound of his keys jingling from the carabiner on his belt-loop. He thinks it came from a back injury he got while crash-landing a Cessna a few years ago. He doesn’t notice it.
-Sets his alarm clock to wake him up only in minutes that are prime numbers.
-Talks to himself, more often and more audibly the more frustrated he gets.
-Has an unusual mixed accent/dialect of Southern United States, Alaskan and Australian from his careers and travels.
-Very observant of coordination in people’s wardrobe choices, can’t stand mismatched colors or lack of symmetry.

{} Likes & Dislikes {}

+ Flying
+ Hitting Golf Balls
+ Caffeine – Hot Tea or Coffee
+ Books
+ Sarcasm
+ Tinkering/Fixing things
+ Conspiracy Theories (the crazier the better)
+ Flirting
- Politics
- Fingers being pointed at him (the physical action)
- Seafood
- Sports
- Television
- Looking for things
- Women with attitude
- Being a passenger

{} In-Depth Appearance {}

Cole stands about 5’11” and is of a well-built body type. He tries to work out fairly regularly and most people would comment that he takes decent care of himself. He has some visible muscle definition around his arms and midsection. Forearms are very taught from handling control surfaces for years. Women tend to notice that he has one green and one brown eye that are sullen from years of scanning horizons and searching for dirt runways in the bush. There are already visible lines showing around the edges. Facial features are proportionally framed, but he has a slight hereditary crook in his nose. There’s often a layer of stubble every other day as daily shaving aggravates his nickel allergy. Hair is naturally curly and often tousled to one side or the other from a slight widow’s peak and can get unruly from time to time. He only gets a haircut about every two to three months.

Overall his appearance has a growing look of weather to it. Some gray hairs are visible occasionally and the tan of his skin has a certain view of transition from the last vestiges of youth to worn outdoorsman.

At the time of the crash, he would have been wearing a black compression undershirt, a white button down short-sleeve shirt with the collar loosely protruding from a black sweatshirt that has his wings and the company logo screen-printed on the front left chest matching his four, gold captain’s stripes sewn onto the shoulders. Dark gray cargo pants with leather belt, black socks and hiking boots would round it out.

{} Accessories, Tattoos, Scars, etc. {}

He has no distinguishing marks or piercings, hands carry a few noticeable scars and past burns that are visible upon closer inspection, but nothing serious. He wears a $50 “aviator” watch his mom gave him years ago that keeps good time, the standard pilot’s gold/metal-framed, clichéd sunglasses, an old, worn blue Dehavilland Canada baseball cap and a hiking carabiner clipped to his belt loop with various keys.

---

When The Nosewheel’s Behind You

{} Contents of Suitcase {}

Since he’s flying the plane, he would not have a suitcase, these are the logical contents of a “normal” bush plane as far as safety traveling equipment based on setting and typical dispatch prior to picking up the unexpected passenger service:
- (1) Tarp
- (1) Basic Tube Tent
- (2) Ponchos
- (1) Box of Heavy Duty Garbage Bags
- (2) Bottle of Iodine Crystals
- (3) Box of Basic Survival Rations (week supply)
- (1) Large Medical Kit
- (1) Leatherman
- (1) Knife Sharpener
- (1) Survival Saw
- (4) Chemical Light Sticks
- (2) Emergency Blankets
- (1) Flashlight
- (2) Flares
- (1) Whistle
- (2) Roll Toilet Paper
- (2) Roll Duct Tape
- (1) Roll Heavy Duty Aluminum Foil
- (1) Roll Parachute Cord
- (1) Box of Gallon Zipper-Lock Freezer Bags
- (1) Empty Coffee Can
- (1) Signal Mirror
- (1) Flint and Steel Fire Starter (pocket-size)
- (1) Aviation Survival Spark-Lite Kit

{} Contents of Carry-On Bag {}

These are the items he would carry for himself on any flight:
- (1) Locking Fold Out Knife, Non-Serrated
- (1) Complete Change of Clothes
- (2) Protein Bars
- (1) Golf Driver and a Few Balls
- (1) Book He’s Currently Reading Hornet’s Sting by Derek Robinson
- (1) Satellite Phone
- (1) Metal Case Clipboard (Containing the “Ship’s Papers” various printouts of the Flightplan, Weather, Alternates, Aircraft State, Fuel Planning, Departure Planning, and Takeoff Data)

{} Business or Pleasure? {}

Business. He’s flying the plane.

{} Indoor or Outdoor Type? {}

Outdoors, though he’s not a “survivalist” by any means, he has had adequate training to suit his chosen profession:
+ FAA Basic Survival Training For General Aviation
+ ETI Pilot & Aircrew Survival Training for Hot and Cold Environments

{} Role Play Sample {}

Sample

It was just a little too quiet. Not that the Tibetan plateau was normally the setting of a lot of excitement. When the wind was calm on some days a person would have to truly strain just to hear any sound. Cole liked it that way. He was about as far away from drama as was possible, save for Antarctica, maybe. He mused on the thought of giving that a shot once he was tired of this job. No, things were too quiet because the dispatch office hadn’t called in several hours which normally meant they were plotting something. He looked down at the satellite phone that was clipped to his side. Only the time was displayed and no calls.

Behind him, unloading was underway; the great clamshell side-doors of the BT-67, a completely rebuilt, turbo-prop converted World War Two era Douglas DC-3, were wide open and being carefully unloaded with specialized ramps. Whatever it was, they were being exceptionally gentle with it. The meager staff of the high altitude observatory was certainly glad to receive it. The manifest had only listed it as, “Scientific Equipment, Extremely Fragile” and he reckoned it had something to do with the telescope’s lenses. They’d had to wait for a day of perfect weather to fly it out.

The “driving-range” as he had nicknamed the location was an improved dirt strip straddled by a huge, bulbous observatory and its connected support buildings. It had been a regular stop for years, but recently Cole regarded it as a bit of a drag. The current staff of the station was fairly anti-social compared to those that had cycled in before them. Hardly a word was said any time he stopped and they showed little interest in learning how the station had got its unofficial nickname, given by him, naturally. He pressed a tee and ball into the ground, squared his shoulders with the club and sent the ball rocketing out over the rock escarpments in one swift motion down, down thousands of feet to the lower plain. He watched it go for a moment before turning back to his first officer, Xi, who was managing the brew-up under the nose of the aircraft. Xi seemed to sense Cole looking for some form of approval and grinned widely from behind his sunglasses giving two thumbs up as the steam rose from the teapot.

“Bollocks” Cole replied. “No finesse at all, Xi. I drive the ball like a bulldozer, no placement on the green.”

Xi shrugged, unsure what to say. He was sure that Captain Stephens was quite mad.

Cole shook his head and put another ball and tee into the ground. He reminded himself that Xi was new to the roster and only spoke enough good English to make the radio calls. He squared his shoulders yet again, aiming to work a little finesse into his backswing as the phone erupted midway through the motion with its high-pitched monotone squeal. “Bloody hell…” He said and cursed under his breath. The ball sliced off the end of the club flying nearly perpendicular to where he was standing, but with a nice arch this time. He flipped the antenna up and put the device next to his ear. “This is Captain Stephens…” He tried, very poorly, not to sound annoyed.

“Captain, I see you are still at the ‘driving range’?” A polite female voice said through the other end. “Have you finished unloading?”

Cole was already halfway back to the plane and glancing under the wing to see how the station staff was coming along. “Just about, what’ve ya got?” He prayed it wasn’t anything too bad this time.

“Air China has diverted a flight to Gunsa due to engine failure. They are chartering out the passengers and we have a lucrative passenger service to Lhasa we can run in a combi.” By, “combi” she meant picking up passengers and cargo simultaneously. It was a pretty big score in aviation accounting.

Cole glanced at his watch. Each head would be worth a handsome sum for sure, but it would be at least an hour flight south to get them after they reloaded here. They would then have to refuel in Gunsa, load the cargo and board the passengers, then fly another three hours back to Lhasa. It would be dark by the time he even made the landing pattern. “I don’t have a flight attendant.” He said smartly knowing one would be required by International Civil Aviation regulations. He really didn’t feel like dealing with people today.

“We have an attendant at Gunsa who just finished up her rest period for you and needs to return to Lhasa.” The voice replied cheerfully.

Cole was ready; “Doubt I have enough seats on board right now.” The BT-67 offered removable seats in the cabin that could be stowed to increase cargo capacity. Since Cole rarely hauled a full load of passengers he only kept the minimum extra seating on board to keep the weight down.

“Luckily we have extra seating available for you!” She was very chipper this time.

Cole pursed his lips a little and placed a hand on the cold wing of the aircraft feeling the rivets under his fingers. He didn’t really have any other excuses. Who the bloody hell would want to ride in this thing? “Alright, tell them we’ll be down in a minute.” He groaned shaking his head.

“Fantastic! Thank you Captain Stephens! Please hurry down safely!” The girl chirped.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

---

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Ok, sounds good. I'm basically done and should have him up tomorrow.

For now...

Our noble steed:



The BT-67 is a modernized version of the DC-3 I mentioned earlier. It's specifically built for our type of setting and would be very plausible. If you look close you can see that one even carries skis.

Our route:



Picking up the characters from the diverted flight landing at Ngari Gunsa (ZUAL), which was only just built within the last six years and departing with the goal of landing at Lhasa (ZULS). We have 670 miles of Tibetan wilderness to play with here. I don't think there's much need to drill down the real-world location realism much farther. We should be able to come up with lots of fun with just this.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Sorry If I missed it somewhere, but where can we put up a WIP? I'm just about done and need to make sure I didn't break any formatting.