[1-2] The Tail

[Karl Jak]

Carmelita
Guilmon
Deadpool
Zack Fair (Abner)
Arthuria Pendragon
Makota Yuki
Granite
Remlia Scarlet
Gin Yatreg
Colonel
Amber Veritz
Tucker Tuckerson (Syntech employee)
Alan Miller (Bartender)
Jethro Miller (Plane crew)
~6 other random secondaries from the plane

 
Abner groaned as he was assaulted by the noise of the plane crash.  Lifting his head from the sand, he saw that he’d been jettisoned from the wreckage about twenty yards before it had settled into its deathbed.  What remained of his seat was still strapped around him as he reached for the buckles.
 
Although the pyre was worthy of his immediate attention, he quickly scanned his surroundings.  This section of the plane had crashed along a two hundred foot stretch of beach that was boarded by a gray-blue ocean on one side and a very thick, oppressive jungle on the other.
 
All along the debris-coated beach, other individuals were stirring and attempting to right themselves.  Most focus moved to the smoldering wreckage, where a few others still struggled to free themselves from within the crumbling mess.
 

Aside from Abner, all of you may make the decision to wake up/regain your senses inside the plane wreck, on the beach, or even in the ocean, if you so desire.  If you want some inspiration as to this scene, I’d recommend watching the plane crash from the pilot of Lost.
 
It’s up to the lot of you to decide what the f**k you do from here.  Salvage supplies.  Scope the area.  Leave on your own.  You have no obligations to one another, and unfortunately, none of the Syntech employees will be of much help (and all are expendable).  You will be able to find out from them that this isn’t the island they were traveling to, since there was still at least an hour and a half of the flight left.
 
Go out and find answers.  Or don’t.  Have fun.

[Granite]

Okor had done little more than look at Granite before he had been wrested to his knees by the turbulence. Then another wave of turbulence thrusted the stone giant into the air and flung towards the back towards the midsection. Then, in that split second, everything went downhill. The plane split apart at it's midway, and those who were not belted down in time were sucked out, sure to die. Granite had just enough time to grab hold of a stool that was placed in front of a barstool. He looked back, and through the rush of wind, could no longer see the front of the plane.

Some form of debris hit Granite in his shoulder, loosening his grip upon the bolted down stool. The wind pulled on his right arm harder than he could retract it, and, without the extra grip it had given him, he could no longer hold on with his other. The Gargoyle was sucked out posthaste. The wind rushed from below, forcing him to tumble this way and that. All Granite could think to do was curl up in the fetal position and wrap his wings around himself. But, in this position he could no longer control his descent, not that he had the skill to do so, and he could no longer see where he was going to land. Lucky for him, he had a hard water landing. The water absorbed his kinetic energy, and by the time he had hit the bottom, he was sinking no faster than if he had jumped in from a diving board.

A cloud of dust and the panic of a shark had graced Granite's landing. Granite slowly unfurled from his position, ending up on his back looking up. The light could sparsely be seen from this depth, and he could feel the weight of the water around him. "If that is how flying always goes, then I prefer the ground." The flightless statue stated through the water. The sea rushed into his mouth and into the cavity connected. He grimiced at the action, as he would have to go later and get rid of the fluid and salt. Granite finally stood up after a few minutes and tried to get his bearings, but the water was still clouded somewhat, obscuring any coast. He then knelt down and felt for the curve of the seafloor, and was soon satisfied he had found an answer. Every step he made threw up a cloud of dust, constantly obscuring what little vision he had in this water. And secretly, the man of stone wished he was light enough to swim.

It took about a good half hour before Granite's head poked up through the water. He was met with a sight worse than the descriptions of Okor - fire, shrapnel, bodies. But Granite had survived. He lumbered out of the water, readjusting himself to the weight he had lost under the ocean. Then, unceremoniously, he gagged up the ocean water.

[Carmelita]

Carmelita was sorry to say that she was terribly familiar with the situation she found herself in. Not the unconsciousness, that was something of a novelty, but she’d been in more plane crashes and descending and disintegrating aircraft than she could shake a fist at.
Some of them she could attribute to Sly’s adventures, some of them were accidents, and one or two had been her own fault as she wrestled with pilots for control of their craft. Nonetheless, it had reached a point where she had built up a routine for checking herself over.

Her tail was in good condition, as was her hair. She could wriggle her toes and fingers and aside from a crick in her neck, her head was fine too. She wrenched open her eyes, only to slam them shut again, the bright light burning her retinas. Easing open her eyelids, she found herself two inches from a very sharp, very pointed tree branch.
In fact, she was still in her seat. The plane, after splitting in half, had been descending, and whatever had been in front of her seat in the tail section was now nothing more than metal shavings. Smatterings of blood and gore from the unfortunates who had been in front of her still rested on the surrounding greenery, along with slowly sizzling embers. Turning her head, she could just about see back behind her seat, other figures in their seats unconscious or deceased, she didn’t know.

As if on cue, oxygen masks hissed and dropped from the ceiling, the punchline of a terrible, horrible joke. Carmelita bit back an urge to laugh, knowing that if she started it would be hours before she could pull herself together enough to properly respond to the situation she found herself in.
A wheezy chuckle came through the air, and she had to check to make sure it wasn’t her. To her right, she saw one of the flight attendants in a similar situation, staring at the oxygen mask with something of a manic glint in her eyes. Carmelita’s urge vanished, and she began wrestling with her seat belt, hoping to cross what remained of the aisle and calm the crewmember down.

It wouldn’t budge. The seat buckle was stuck, and upon closer inspection the thing had been dented by some debris. Without a blade on her to cut it, Carmelita was forced to begin working at a scrap of metal within reach, pushing and pulling in time to her neighbour’s manic laughter until a sharpish blade snapped off and she could begin slowly cutting through the belt itself.
The rasping of the improvised cutting tool against the plastic was not enough to drown out the crew member, but it was enough to draw their attention. The poor woman tried to stop laughing, but as tears dripped down her face that only turned to sobs. Carmelita broke the belt after a moment of work, carefully eased herself out of danger of being impaled on a sharp branch, and gingerly stepped over an unidentifiable mass on the floor to pull the crew member into an impromptu hug, calmly rubbing the woman’s back and murmuring soothing noises into her ear.

The sobbing died as the crew member clutched Carmelita like a lifeline. She took the opportunity to look back down the tail end of the plane, looking to see if anyone else had survived.

[Gin Yatreg]

"Come on sleepyhead, wake up!"the voice rang through Gin's head. 

Gin's eyes flicked open, he was still in the staircase lying on his back.  He could hear the sounds of waves crashing against the shore, birds chirping, and the distant sound of cicadas. Staggering to his feet, he made his way back up the stairs and into the seating area.  "God, what the hell happ-" he stopped, seeing the front half of the plane missing, "Oh." Gin quickly looked around the cabin, those that were in their seats seemed to, thankfully, be unconscious. Those that weren't however, were less lucky.  Up towards the front he saw a fox woman cut herself free, and begin working on the person next to her. Following her lead, Gin began unhooking those still unconscious from their seats. While getting a crew member out from a window seat, he peered outside and saw two people on the beach. A gargoyle currently spitting out water, and the other a girl staring out to sea. 

Gin looked down the aisle at the fox girl, "Hey there's people outside!" he yelled. Looking back out, the girl was gone, leaving only the gagging gargoyle in his sight. "Wait, what the..." Gin mumbled. Gin shook his head, brushing it off for now. Getting the survivors outside was the priority at the moment. 

[spoiler]

Gin's the only one who can see the girl by the way.

[/spoiler]

[Amber Veritz]

If wasn’t already bad enough that Amber was nervous about being thousands of feet in the air, now she could feel the plane moving in an odd manner. Almost like it was about to fail, like a car that just ran out of gas. That was until it really did start to drop altitude. The cat girl’s first reaction was to scream, loudly. Not too much longer, the plane split down the middle separating the nose of the plane from the tail. Amber took both her hands and jammed her claws into the seat in front of her, obviously not caring if someone was still in the seat. Luckily, there wasn’t.


When the plane hit the ground, Amber bashed her head on the seat in front of her and was nearly instantly knocked out cold. After a good sum of time passed, she slowly awoke to a slight headache. Shaking her head free, Amber observed her situation. Oh great, the way the plane had landed, she was a thirty feet up high and sitting at a near ninety-degree angle. “I always thought I was going to die in a plane crash. Looks like the gods just want me to suffer instead.” Sneered Amber as she looked around. It seems like some others survived, she could hear people talking, but couldn’t see them.

“Okay, let’s carefully just unbuckle this seatbelt and work our way to the ground.” She talked like someone was with her, yet she was not speaking to anyone. A good tug on the belt informed the cat girl that she was in for a bad time. It was stuck. “You have got to be freakin’ kiddin’ me.”  The metal that locks the belt in place must have bent up in the locking mechanism. A pink light lit up on Amber’s finger, the only way out was to cut herself loose. A quick motion of her finger against the material of the belt was enough to break her free. Though the youth didn’t expect gravity to take hold of her so easily and she started to plummet to the ground. They say that all cats land on their feet from a fall. That was most certainly a lie. Amber was nowhere near agile enough to even try and land on her feet. With a loud thunk, she landed on her back, lucky that she was not impaled by any loose debris that poked up from the ground like a stalagmite. Dust puffed up around her as she laid there in slight pain.”Dammit, why can’t things just work out simply and smoothly for once?” She questioned herself while rolling around and coughing in the dirt trying to ignore the pain to stand back up.

[Remilia Scarlet]

Remilia should not have taken that nap.

It was only a brief moment of serenity before her return to the waking world was via the the plane she was in rattled like the Christmas present of a overly curious child, a particularly fitting metaphor after Remilia had seen so many of her sister’s toys get broken that way, and to find herself floating in mid air without the assistance of her powers. The shock of the situation didn’t last long as the vampire saw that it would only rapidly go downhill (in every sense of the word) and gave a heavy push of her wings to the safety of an emergency harness with a few others. It was only a false hope, though, as metal plates and structural beams snapped like wafer at the midsection and sent the at-least-somewhat stable roller coaster of horror into a dead drop into hell.

The crash felt like being inside a hammer as it struck the surface of an anvil. The initial impact point wasn’t so much destroyed as it was pulverized, what wasn’t ripped away by the whipping winds to land strewed across the beach side, and who wasn’t killed already found their bodies slammed into whatever they used to brace themselves. Remilia might have come out better than someone of her actual physical type due to her undead fortitude, but it still felt like all her organ were about to be squeezed from torso and swept by a nausea from the tumble through the air in mostly darkness. She might have passed out if she didn’t feel a sudden pressure and wetness on her lower half (not to mention the screams of the other survivors next to her). It took her a dazed moments to realized it was sand. It forced itself through compromises in the hull when the section they were in scraped across land and now she was half buried in it.

“We’re all going to drown!” Some Syntech flunky yelled out in hysterical panic as they tried to wrestle with the netting, but the scarlet devil rolled her eyes. As the shortest person there she was at the greatest of risk of getting stuck underwater and unless they were trapped here for half a day and it was at low tide (and she knew it wasn’t) then it wasn’t something to get worked up over. With a slash across the fabric with her claws she was out, with only a little bit of wiggling to free herself from the sand. And with herself out, she could better assess what has happened.

They’re trapped inside an aluminum can buried inside a beach, in the dark and without any support or supplies, her dress was torn, hair and hat was in a mess, and her parasol was long gone. Perhaps the lowest Remilia has ever been in for a long time, yet it would be against everything she stood for if she didn’t endear. Until she was out of sight, at least.

The first obstacle was getting out. There was barely any light coming from the shattered windows, the storm that presumably knocked them out of the sky still rampant above them, but thankfully there was just enough that the scarlet devil could see where the door is. Or where it was about to not be, rather, as the compartment was drowned in red light by the magical spear in Remilia’s hand.

Those outside would be caught off guard when a part of the rear tail exploded with red as a beam shot through one of the doors and carried it off into the sky, followed by a four foot pink dressed kid who stood the tallest of everyone in pride...until she tried to flap the wings on her back to no avail.

They took her flight! She has lost so much of her power already, and now this! Remilia let out many unladylike curses and growls (certainly Sakuya would have chided her if she saw this) at the sky as the other survivors sneaked out into the outside behind her, but eventually she managed to wrap it back up enough to glance over to the others who made it. Seemed that she’d have to rely on them before this was through. She waved over to those who could see her to prove she still lived (not that it wasn’t obvious before) and started to jog across the flechette filled sand to where they started to gather. 

[Carmelita]

Carmelita waved to acknowledge the short man who was working in the depths of the plane to unhook people and carry them out of one of the emergency exit, and swiftly joined him.

The first trip out of the plane, with the crew member clutching on to her tightly, she could see that the situation was poor. It hadn’t been obvious inside, but from the outside the way the tail had landed meant that the still huge segment of the plane had bent, shattered and warped, the rearmost sections in the sea (though the emergence of a girl wielding a red spear suggested that the evacuation of those parts were possible) whilst the middle section had bent upwards. The branches that had threatened to skewer her were in fact part of the canopy of the island’s trees.  Overall, everything was a complete mess, and it was all she could do to help get people out of the wreckage.

She stood at the bottom of the emergency slide that had deployed with a sad puff upon the door being opened and took the bodies, unconscious or deceased, and took them a safe distance away from the wreckage. Once or twice they’d squirm in her arms, waking fitfully, and she’d mutter empty words before depositing them in the shade of the tree sheltered from the drizzle that occasionally turned into short sharp downpours.

Halfway through evacuating the section on the upper bounds of the beach, she and the short man took a breather for a moment.

“Carmelita,” she introduced herself from where she was standing below.

“Gin,” came the reply, before they proceeded to continue the task of pulling people from the wreckage.

It wasn’t long before the section she and Gin had been in had been cleared of bodies, and Carmelita took a moment to check for signs of fuel or other dangers that might prohibit salvage. Nothing immediately caught her eye, but then again she was no expert. Now would be an excellent time to call one.

Her earpieces extended into the eyepieces, and she tried to activate the Dataverse connection. There was nothing but a cold silence.

“Call Chip.”

--No signal--

“Mierda.”

Carmelita took that as a sign to check herself over again, as well as her equipment. She still had her shock pistol on her, her collar and its stealth cloak would likely be unharmed, and her belt was both intact and had her cuffs still in their container. She hadn’t lost her earpieces and the Dataverse connector box was still intact. She checked the wire that connected the two communications equipment, but it was not broken. The communications problem appeared beyond her capabilities.

She turned away and strode back to where people had gathered, thankful for her red trench coat in the light rain, looking to find someone who knew their aeronautical engineering.

[Guilmon]

*Rumble*

The sound of turbulence shook the sleeping Digimon from his slumber. "Huh? What's going on?" More turbulence. Guilmon began to realize that the plane's floor was no longer even and that he was sliding towards the front of the craft. More turbulence rocked the plane, tearing it in half. Guilmon suddenly found himself blacking out – his consciousness sucked out with the air due to the sudden change in pressure.

Falling through the air, Guilmon hit terminal velocity just before hitting the ocean. He "landed" a couple miles off the coast. The sudden splash jarred Guilmon back to the land of the living. Just as he woke, his pupils narrowed into paper-thin slits. With his instincts beginning to take over, Guilmon started to whip his body around until he oriented himself with the island. With a few swishes of his tail, he starts to swim towards the shore rather quickly. Keeping his rhythm steady, it takes him but a few minutes to reach the beach.

He climbs out of the surf and shakes the cool, salty water from his scaly hide. With a snarl and a growl, he glares at everything he can see. He catches an abrupt whiff of blood. Within seconds, he pinpoints the source. Just a few feet away from the burning wreckage, he saw several bodies. The scent of injured prey wafted into the feral predator's nostrils. He speeds towards the bloody Secondaries, easily closing the gap in a couple seconds. Just as he leaps into the air to pounce onto his meal, a metal boot connects with the bottom of the dinosaur's jaw.

With the mental fog that was clouding his mind dissipating, Guilmon shook his head. "Owwww! What was that for!? Now Guilmon's jaw hurts!" His eyes dilated to their normal state, even if they broadcasted his pain clearly. In front of him stood a man who, at just under two meters, easily towered over Guilmon.

"I could sense your blood-lust from a mile away. Your eyes had the gleam of a predator. But it seems that neither is the case anymore." As the metal man turned to walk away, Guilmon noticed that his black armor and blue cape were covered in dust, sand, and other bits of debris. "We do not need to lose any more than we already have."

With his eyes re-opened, he looks around. Many of the others had been staring at him, but they had already gone back to what they were doing since Colonel had taken care of the feral beast already. Under his breath, Guilmon muttered "What happened to Guilmon?" He walks around to the open side of the plane. Turning to the fox lady and the kid with orange hair, he asks them "What can Guilmon do? Guilmon wants to help!"

Wordcounter.net/MSWord say 465. Site says 491?

[Carmelita]

Carmelita turned to the red lizard that had nearly bitten in to one of the unconscious bodies as it had apparently come to its senses.

“So you want to help? How good’s your nose?”

“Guilmon’s nose?”

She raised an eyebrow at the repeated third-person self-referencing, but she’d known people with stranger quirks than that. Granted, they hadn’t been large red lizards, but there was a certain amount of leeway given since this was the Omniverse.

“How refined is your sense of smell? Are you capable of distinguishing scents?”

A nod from the lizard.

“Guilmon can smell things! What do you want Guilmon to smell for?”

Carmelita turned and gestured for Guilmon to follow her, approaching the wreckage as she talked. A gust of wind caught her hair in her mouth for a moment, and she batted the sodden clump away.

“We need to know if any fuel has leaked out, in case the whole thing goes up. Ideally, we’d salvage all the luggage and supplies that survived the crash but we’d need to know if there was a chance of a fireball.”

It took a moment for her to realise that the sound of claws crunching in the sand had ceased to accompany that of her boots. She turned to see Guilmon’s head tilted at what would, on a child, be an adorable angle. As it was, it was mildly unsettling on a lizard with very sharp claws.

“What does fuel smell like?”

Carmelita paused. That… was not a question she thought she’d need an answer to. Especially since she didn’t even know how to begin trying to reply.

“Erm… flammable? I think it’s an irritant…”

Guilmon blinked in incomprehension.

She stood there for a moment before trying to summon a cup of oil from her omnilium as an example. When that failed to work (and despite her being relatively new to the Omniverse, it was still a shock) she coughed and scratched behind her ear in thought. Thankfully, the lizard was patiently waiting for an answer.

“Hmm… it’s rather pungent. Tell someone if you smell something pungent you don’t recognise, that would work.”

"Pungent?"

"Smells really strongly of one or two clear scents."

Guilmon gave a toothy grin before he began sniffing, and Carmelita waited for the lizard to finish his task. She cursed quietly in spanish as the wind began picking up, catching the spray of a wave and getting the salty water in her mouth and hair, and tugged her trenchcoat more tightly around her.

[Albert Wesker]

One moment he had been on a plane, in the middle of a flight. The weather outside was mildly worrying, but a plane this size shouldn't have much trouble with it. He closed his eyes to wait out the end of the flight.

It came much quicker than he expected. And in far more violent a manner than he would have cared for. His eyes snapped open to the sounds of chaos amid the plane as it was sheared in two.

"Oh, that isn't good..." his digital assistant said quietly.

And then everything was chaos, and the stress of the crash sent Colonel's systems into lockdown. To a human it would have been a blackout. And it was much the same for him. The intervening time was lost to him, and it was dimly and with great difficulty he roused himself, his systems restoring themselves to activity one at a time. "....planes," he muttered. "Supposed to be safe... We got the one in a million flight that had to have a problem..."

For a second, he waited on the expected banter from Cricket. The helper navi always had a comment on things like this. When it didn't come, Colonel fished around for his PET, and found it missing. Only a jagged tear in his exterior plating and his belt shorn clear through where it should have been. "....damn." They might have butted heads occasionally, and Cricket had made a backup during the flight, but...

Wasting no more time, the soldier navi extricated himself from his predicament, tearing himself out of the remnants of his seat. He sailed down the intervening distance between himself and the ground, crunching through several more bits and pieces of debris from the plane before hitting solid ground with a solid, metallic thunk. He dropped to one knee, kicking up a cloud of sand, dust, grit and embers from the plane's wreckage. He quickly surveyed the area, seeing other survivors from the crash who had already gathered their wits going about getting the survivors and bodies out of the wreckage. Good.

More worrying, though, was the oncoming rush of a strange, red lizard-like creature. The look in its eyes was clear. Colonel's eyes narrowed, and as fast as his still unsteady gait and slow, lumberng stride let him, he tore off across the wreckage-strewn beach. A single, sharp clang resounded as one boot connects with the dino-creature's jaw, rather abruptly kicking the sense back into it.

That crisis averted, he returned to his own task, taking a slow, searching walk around the entire scene, searching for any others who might have been ejected from the plane as it crashed, as well as anyone who was in need of assistance. "I knew it couldn't be as easy as they made it out to be..." he muttered. "It never is..."

[Zack Fair]

Goddammit.
 
Abner held his palm upwards, but the Omnilium would not emerge from his skin. All of that damn work getting the power to use it, just to have it taken from him so quickly. Yet, in this massive shit show, that was merely the icing on the cake.
 
With his power to summon objects robbed from him, he instead had to dig a cigarette out from one of his vest’s numerous storage pouches. He wasted no time lighting and inhaling from it as he began to make his way over to the wreckage. Others were already at work with salvage and tending to survivors, and he figured he’d best put himself to use, as well. Besides, he might as well see what absurd cast of characters he’d been blessed with this time.
 
He paused as he looked around. He saw absolutely no sign of Christa anywhere amongst the small crowd. That didn’t mean she was dead, or alive, necessarily. It was certainly his luck that the one reason he’d set foot on that aircraft would end up completely missing. But then, so was about half of the plane and plenty of other occupants. This just kept getting better and better.
 
His eyes narrowed as they locked onto a Syntech employee milling about. He’d get some answers from that asshole in just a minute. In the meantime, he wordlessly walked by the gathering cowd, entering the destroyed fuselage. He had something extremely important to do before he could begin to be sociable. Not much had survived inside, and a few fires were still lit. The complex and extravagant design of the aircraft just made its wreckage a nightmare. Fortunately, the ruined bar was not too difficult to reach.
 
What a joke. That son of a bitch could literally shape a universe to his will and liking, but making one single, goddamn aircraft that stayed in the air was too much to ask? Abner found himself seething in rage and frustration as he looted a few personal essentials from behind the destroyed entertainment area. He stuffed a few cigars into his bulletproof vest, and a couple of filled flasks into the cargo pockets on his BDU pants. Just as he started to leave, he spotted some smoked jerky, so he grabbed a few handfuls and shoved them into a bag, and then the bag went into his pouch. After all, having some actual sustenance wouldn’t hurt, either.
 
He took another deep breath of frustration, and looked around the room. There was no sign of anyone else in this cabin, so he turned and went back outside. Now that he had enough tobacco and alcohol to keep himself moving, he’d see what he could do about the others. Whether he liked it or not, this was a team now.
 
As soon as his boots hit the sand once again, Abner tossed the used up cigarette to the side. Declining to utilize the cigars right away, he pulled out his tin of chewing tobacco, and hit it a few times to pack the dip. He then opened it and put a pinch in his mouth, watching as a robotic man quietly toured the area, save for a few bits of muttering. Abner could relate. The stoic machine seemed to be scanning the area, and Abner matched his silence as he looked around for the Syntech employee he’d seen earlier. They needed to exchange a few words.

[Guilmon]

*Sniff sniff* *sniff sniff*

Guilmon spent a good ten minutes or so roaming around the wreckage. It had taken him some time to comprehend what it was that the fox was asking. Sure, his ability to smell was great, his mind was not even close to the same level. The vulpine woman had used big words to try to get Guilmon to see if the plane had the possibility of exploding. When she finally managed to dumb it down enough for him, he happily went off to tend to his task.

The red lizard was walking around with his nose in the air, taking in the smells that the wind carried. More than a few times, he found himself tripping over rubble and debris that could not see while looking up. The smallest part of the plane was lying in the ocean, so it appeared that any flames from that section had already been put out by the salty water. The vertical tail fin was practically gone - probably sitting on the bottom of the ocean. The ones on the side were almost detached and were floating, causing them to bash the side of the tail repeatedly.

There did not appear to be any part of the wings nearby. Not the Guilmon could see, anyway. Perhaps they broken off somewhere between this end of the passenger jet and the other end? Either way, Guilmon could not find anything that fit the fox's description. He looks around for the one that had given him his task. He did not see her at first, but when the wind shifted again, he smelled her. With a look of triumph on his face, he reports back to her. "Guilmon didn't find any fuel! Guilmon looked everywhere! Almost no fire, too!" When the wind shifted again, he could smell... meat? It was a different kind of meat than Guilmon had ever had before. Food in the Digital World had almost no flavor to it. And aside from the bread he had bought at the café, he had not eaten anything since he got to the Omniverse. His stomach growled a little bit, leaving Guilmon to wonder if the meat was as good as the bread had been.

He follows the smell to a man wearing a black vest, cargo pants, and combat boots. Among several other smells that Guilmon did not recognize - many of which Guilmon could tell were not something he would ever want - he detected the scent of the meat. "Can Guilmon have meat?"

Of course, the disgruntled man only grunted and spoke sharply. "Tch. Get your own, Lizard." With a click of his tongue, the soldier walked off. Guilmon stuck his tongue out at the rude man before turning his attention to where the man had come from. He hops inside and starts searching for more food. He grabs a bag from underneath a counter. It was not very large, but it was easy enough to carry. There was not much in the room in the way of food, but Guilmon managed to find some bread and some cheese and stuffs it into the bag. With another sniff, he finds what he was looking for in the first place - meat!

Thought this was gonna be a shitpost. Wordcounter.net says 541. Leaves me with roughly 1400 words for this round.

[2B]

Arturia remembered how plane had groaned in its final moments, before all had went to hell. They'd descended, before the plane had ripped itself apart from the middle, separating her and Fiara.. And despite her hardest efforts, the woman hadn't been given a chance to reunite. And as she had been securing herself to her best effort during their impromptu skydive, it had all went black.

---

Light. 

The first thing the King of Knights registered, was the light. Soon enough, she honestly hoped she hadn't, as with her consciousness came the agonizing pain. As she laid there, wherever she was laying.. She realized that this pain wasn't normal, not even after falling from the sky; something was broken. After a brief survey of her body, as she simply laid there, she realized that it was her left arm that the pain was originating from.

Blink.

Arturia blinked as her eyes opened, raising her still functional hand to shield her eyes from the sudden enlightenment, as she realized she was afloat. The knight couldn't be certain as to how that hadn't registered to her before, but now that she thought of it, she was floating.. Kicking down with her still armoured leg, she felt it touching something... And as she turned her head to gather her surroundings, she realized she was floating in the shallow shorewater. Slowly, the woman sat down in the water, before turning her attention to the flaming, mind numbing pain in her left arm. It was familiar to her, much like in the Holy Grail war before. The knight slowly undid her gauntlet, revealing her arm, and saw what she'd expected to see; blood. Judging from how the pain was, together with the fact that she couldn't properly move her fingers, especially her thumb, she came to a conclusion; A tendon had been severed, perhaps by debris while she'd been unconscious. Something had knocked her out of her seat as well.. And then it came to her..

Fiara.

The one thing she had intended to protect along their journey on the island, to find Amaterasu, and to perform their rescue of the people whom had gone missing. With haste, the knight forced herself up from the water, wincing from the pain. She'd have to deal with it later, her first and foremost priority was to ensure the girl was okay. As she held her other gauntlet, she let her bleeding arm hang limp by her side, making her way onto the shore, as she saw all kinds of action, the wreckage of the tail of the plane.. Yet she saw only the tail half. Had the two halves landed in different sections of the landmass? Arturia deduced, as she scanned with her eyes for Fiara in the individuals she could see. 

Finally, as she couldn't find the girl immediately, the knight succumbed; She wouldn't be of use to Fiara, if she lost her consciousness.. And she'd have to stop the bleeding. Dropping to to one knee, Arturia took a hold of the hem of her dress, ripping along the hem to gain some cloth that she could tie her wound with. With some work, and the hem of her dress destroyed, the Knight had managed to tend to her wound, although it didn't restore the functionality of her arm. She knew very well, how irksome it would be; 
Once before had the same tendon been severed in the past, leaving her unable to properly leverage her sword with her left hand. Whilst she'd be able to grasp the sword with her four other fingers, the fact that her thumb was completely beyond her control meant she couldn't actually grip anything properly with her left hand. The effect of that was grim; The King of Knights would be using Excalibur one handed, and with much less strength than normally. 

Again.

After she armoured her wounded arm with the gauntlet once more, the woman headed for the wreckage where she saw movement. For now, she would group with the other passengers, and help as she could. Still, the King of Knights swore to herself, that she would find Fiara, no matter what.

According to site, 706 words.
Arturia's left hand is busted, and she's incapable of properly grasping things with it, (Her thumb doesn't function) as well as incapable of using it fully with her weaponry.

[Amber Veritz]

After lying still for awhile, the pain in Amber’s shoulder subsided. She stood slowly hefting Razorback up with her and returning it to its holster on her back. She took a quick look around noticing that most people had already evacuated from the plane wreckage or they were flung out of the plane and into the ocean. It could’ve been worse. It was lucky enough that anyone made it through that crash alive. After her quick observation, Amber stepped over the wreckage towards the giant opening in the plane where a woman seemed to be leading the effort to get everyone out of the crash site. She looked Faunus, which was odd to Amber. She hadn’t expected to meet another Faunus in this world, although, she did not look to be native to Remnant.

Finally stepping out on the beach Amber shielded her eyes from the sun. It looked nice enough, if only their situation were not so grim. Now thinking about the situation, in fact, all of Amber’s inner rage surfaced. “How could a damn plane fall out of the sky in a fucking world where you can make people appear from thin air?! That doesn’t even make sense!” Blowing off steam by flailing and yelling angrily was Amber’s way of coping with stress when it it first hits, but this was just outright stupid to her. She only wanted to see as much of this world as she could, and now she is grounded like a bird without wings on an island with no apparent approach to get off it.

A few deep breaths calmed Amber down. Muraski would not want her to be freaking out in a situation like this. He would want her to keep her cool and think forward, not backward. Though she could not think of what she should even do next. Find shelter? Start searching for a way to get off the island? Survey the landscape? Then her thought process was cut off by a sound she hasn’t heard since she got to the Omniverse: Her stomach. It had not been apparent to her until just now that primes never got hungry, or that it takes them much longer to get hungry. Well, now she knew what to do. She had to find something to eat, and figure out how to cook it. Survival was not Amber’s strong suit, even if she was part animal.

Speaking of survival, this was a situation that called for mutual cooperation at the least. Finding a partner or a group would be more than beneficial for surviving this endeavor. As Amber walked through the small group of people from the crash, she actively began to search for someone who might want to pair up with her.

Amber is looking for a partner or group to get involved with here. If you wanna join up to survive the island with me, just post getting Amber’s attention, and shoot me a PM. =3 Also, that’s a second set of 500 words for me. So that leaves me with a good 1400 to use this round.

[Zack Fair]

Abner watched as the red lizard-thing sauntered off into the plane to look for some food. He wasn’t typically that rude to a stranger, especially one trapped in such a shitty situation alongside him. However, he was already mad enough, and this wasn’t the time to be trick-or-treating. So, he gave a flimsy gesture over his shoulder towards where he’d looted some food, but the lizard was already gone. He also made a mental note to find a bag with a tighter seal, as apparently the smell was still getting out.
 
Whatever. That could wait. Abner’s eyes locked on Tucker Tuckerson, an apparent Syntech employee, based on his way of dressing. The man was standing in the open, checking a fairly minor wound on his arm. That was great for Abner, because he didn’t even have to deal with a twinge of guilt for pulling him away from something productive. Still, he’d have to be quick with this. It wouldn’t be long before some self-righteous asshole in this group showed themselves and started spouting out about friendship and the power of love at the first sign of turmoil.
 
Abner marched right up to the man from behind, then grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him backwards. Tucker slammed into the fuselage of the plane with a thud and a yelp, and Abner was immediately in front of him, pinning the man against the plane with an extended left arm against his chest. The prime did not draw his gun in his other hand, or even make the slightest indication he intended to, but he kept it free and ready to do so if needed. He did, however, ball it up into a fist, just in case a little percussive persuasion was needed.
 
“Where are we!?” Abner got right to the point, and didn’t bother worrying about the volume of his voice. “What is this place!?”
 
“I don’t know!” Tucker responded just as loudly, clutching his wounded arm with the good one.
 
“Syntech loads everyone into a plane and flies us across their own private ‘verse, and you’re telling me you know nothing about where we end up?” Abner challenged the man’s reactionary statement. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
 
“It’s the truth, though!” Tucker fumbled through his basic speech. “We were already heading to an island that Mr. Jak, himself, didn’t remember being there. R-Remember?”
 
“So this is where the other search crew went missing?” Abner asked, now lowering his volume to speaking level, but the rage still seeped through. “And we didn’t take any precautions, given that it might happen to us, too?”
 
“Sir, this isn’t even the island we were flying to!” Tucker stammered out. “We were still at least an hour and a half away from our destination.”
 
Abner paused, his face appearing completely emotionless for just a few seconds as he let that sink in. Then, just as quickly, he was back to that all too familiar emotion.
 
“That would have been a good thing to lead off with!” Abner escalated his tone again, and pushed Tucker against the plane a little harder. “That, or explaining to me why you guys have an island where primes can’t do the things that makes them primes! I worked pretty damn hard to get these super powers.”
 
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know much more!” Tucker explained. “Mr. Jak brought me along to deal with a lot of the miscellaneous tasks that come with an endeavor like this.”
 
“If you work for him, that means he summoned you here,” Abner challenged that statement as well. He really did believe that the man didn’t know too much more, but he wanted to push a little further just to be safe. “He has no reason to recruit from outside his own private world, and he has no reason not to trust you!”
 
“I really don’t know the details on how and why Mr. Jak operates!” Tucker continued to admit, at a loss for how to appease this man.
 
Abner stared the man in the eyes, continuing to do his best to get a read on him. He could see it, though. Syntech’s people were just as clueless as the rest of them. Maybe Karl Jak knew a little more, but there was no telling where to find him or the others. Abner released him and stepped back, and Tucker slumped to the ground. The world weary former Stormtrooper did nothing to help him, and instead just turned and walked away.
 
There was no sense in pondering how they got here any further. All that mattered now was getting off this miserable rock.

[Granite]

Granite had finished gagging up the water, and spent most of the rescue effort digging shallow graves near a patch of sandy soil. After all, any number of beasts may come along looking for a meal, smelling the blood of the dead. As he buried the last dead, he heard a scuffle over by the main group and saw a man of metal kick the dragon from before. And a glint caught his eye, from afar it looked like the metal man was wearing a badge just like Okor had worn. He must be another member of the Institute.

Granite wiped his hands clean of dirt in a nearby patch of grass, got up, and approached Colonel. Granite stepped in his path, and did a formal bow. "My name is Granite, associated to the Institute through Miss Cat. I require your help in locating Okor... You are a member of the institute, are you not?" Granite stating formally, gazing at the badge during his last question.

[Carmelita]

Carmelita sighed a small sigh of relief at Guilmon’s all clear signal. The fuel had no doubt been in the front half of the plane, and she now felt safe in salvaging from the wreckage properly in the future.
The sound of distant gunfire caught her attention. Someone, somewhere, was shooting at something else. Since it came from the thick forest that lay up the beach, it may well be from other survivors.

She quickly found the life rafts. Or, to be more accurate, life raft. It appeared that safety had been cut back on in the construction of the plane, and so Carmelita withdrew the only flare in the small tin that sat next to the uninflated dinghy and stepped out of the shelter of the plane.
In the descending drizzle, she took aim at a high angle parallel to the shoreline and pulled the fuse. After a few seconds of fizzing, a bright green flare sailed high into the air, marking the position of the plane’s wreckage to any other survivors that had landed in the forest.

The majority of those who had survived the crash of the tail section had woken now, or were tending to those who hadn’t. The stone being had dug trenches for the dead, and satisfied that all that could have been done so far had been done, Carmelita caught the attention of a human girl with cat ears that seemed to be slightly lost as to what to do.

“Miss? We need to find water quickly, and I’d appreciate having someone with me in case of injury.”

The girl looked up, slightly surprised.

“You’re a fox…”

Carmelita frowned slightly.

“Yes? And you appear to be a cross between a cat and a human. My name is Carmelita, if you would.”

“No, no, I just saw you from behind earlier and thought you were a faunus like myself. I’m Amber.”

Carmelita relaxed slightly, glad that it had been a mistaken identity rather than any prejudice.

“Back on topic, we need to find fresh water, and the quickest way to do that is to walk along the coast until we find a river. Are you with me?”

[Gin Yatreg]

Carmelita left Gin and the others to finish the job while she searched for supplies in the plane. Her search seemed to have proved fruitful as she activated the flare. Meanwhile the last of the survivors were brought out onto the beach, which raised the survivor count to twenty in all. Those unlucky few still unconscious were being attended to by the remaining Syntech employees, whom were still in shock themselves. In the time since they woke up, a warm rain had begun to sprinkle down on the unknown island, causing a light mist to rise from the cool earth inside the dense jungle. "Well, everyone's out, guess the next step is shelter" Gin thought, "We could use the plane, but then again, I doubt people really want to be back inside that wreck." Gin surveyed the area; to his left was the tail half of the plane with a large boulder it miraculously missed nearby. To his right was the uninviting mouth of the jungle which spewed a fog forth from between its wooden teeth. An idea sparked in Gin's head, "Lean-to's!" he said aloud.

"Hey, I'm gonna start getting us some stuff to build a camp with!" he called out to the others. Gin then walked to the edge of the jungle and quickly went to work. Activating his shield fist, he began to punch the nearest tree until its trunk finally broke free from the stump. He dragged the severed tree back onto the beach and started on the next one.

Edited a typo in the word "Camp". Also people are free to join Gin in getting wood.

[Makoto Yuki]

A terrible shriek snapped my mind into focus, clarity setting in when moments ago there'd only been hazy dreams milling about. This sharpness lasted for all of four seconds before a sickening vertigo accompanied by a worrying weightlessness made themselves known. A quick look at the window so graciously provided by the fine folk at Syntech proved my suspicion as to the cause of both these phenomena. We were, indeed, falling rapidly from the sky.

A loud, metallic noise, even louder and more aggravating than the first, assaulted my ears. The realization that it was the sound of the very plane being sheared into two parts by the raging storm came at the same time as the loss in pressure and all the nice, breathable air rushing out of the compromised hull. While floating like this was kind of cool, almost like sky diving really, you usually did that with a parachute. Unfortunately, we were afforded no such luxury.

I quickly unbuckled my seat belt, my head swiveling to and fro in a frenzy for something that'd help me survive the inevitable landing, an emergency harness maybe? A plane of this class simply had to have some sort of precaution to deploy in just this sort of emergency.

There, right next to the doorway to the staircase was a row of harnesses affixed to the wall, already half full of people who just like myself, didn't really feel like dying today. My feet wouldn't reach the floor, floating as I was a couple of meters above it. I resorted to wildly thrashing my arms about as I gripped the tops of leather seats and pushed myself towards the back of the aisle, racing against time to strap myself in and brace for impact. Barely managing to do just that, I double checked the buckle securing me in place and crossed my arms against my body. It was an empty gesture, but it provided some semblance of comfort.

The warped, metal skeleton of what had once been a marvel of engineering shook the earth like the fist of an angry god, scarring the ground beneath them and leaving behind a trail of destruction before coming to a halt.

A sharp pain drew my hand to the back of my head, and my fingers were met with a certain wetness as I winced from my own touch. My hand spread out in front of my face confirming the obvious, I was bleeding. That was bad, I much preferred participating in a bit of nice, wholesome non-bleeding. 

I instinctively grit my teeth as someone jammed an entire tuning fork into my ear canal. Not really, although it sure felt like it. The incessant ringing drowned out any outside noise, but couldn't stop me from registering flashes of color and movement from behind my closed eyelids.

Faint sunlight streamed in through what I was sure was a door before we'd gone through this whole ordeal, right outside of it stood the same child I'd seen get badgered by that interviewer. The buzzing got just a little fainter, allowing a stream of increasingly creative curses to stream in from the pink thing, no child could've been even slightly familiar with most of those terms, as it pointlessly flapped a pair of leather pinions without achieving lift.

She reigned herself in and jogged off to somewhere outside my field of view. It wouldn't do to waste time here as the other survivors of this freak accident gathered themselves and went off to call for help.

I pulled at the central buckle, freeing myself from the constricting straps and stumbled forward, taking a moment to regain my bearings. The thudding of shoes on silk carpet turned into the crunching of sand under my soles as I followed the pink figure in the distance, heading towards a sizable congregation of survivors.

[Albert Wesker]

No signs of anything that would be immediately relevant. No other survivors that hadn't been already accounted for and restored to consciousness, to one degree or another. No obvious signs of danger or the like -- at least not in the immediate vicinity, barring the obvious wreckage of the crash itself.

It was a dreary, dull sight all in all. So many dead, and in such a...sudden, violent manner. That even this many of them, in only half of the plain, had survived at all — much less made it out more or less unscathed, for the most part — was by all rights a miracle in and of itself. Hard to focus on that given the grim situation, though.

He returned to the start of his brief rounds of the immediate area, near where he had initially had to give Guilmon the boot. He took one last look about, seeing things under control for now. Everyone was....well, the majority were find, and had their own priorities in order and handled. He was just setting his own course when someone took it upon themselves to approach him, stopping in his path.

Colonel's stern, inscrutable expression just casually looked over the...the being, which introduced itself as Granite. Associated to the Institute, or so he said. "Locating Okor, is it?" the cyber-soldier finally spoke up, after a moment of quiet contemplation. "I had been meaning to track him down, myself." He inclined his head in a rough gesture of acknowledgement, and what might generously be called 'greeting', his left hand rising to fall over the bade at his 'collar'. "Colonel.EXE, Vice-Dean of Security. Direct suboordinate to Okor."

He turned aside, looking out over the scene, and toward the treeline. "Sticking together in a situaiton like this might be for the best." He turned back to the being of stone. "Strength in numbers, especially in unfmailiar territory."