[Aeryn Sun] A crash and new arrivals.

[tweets.livejournal.com]

[Aeryn Sun] A crash and new arrivals.
Who: Aeryn Sun-Crighton and John Crighton
Where: Not far from the bunker
When: Day 28 - Around 2pm
Invited: Everyone in location; open
Status: Complete


Fire licked at the canopy of the shuttle, as it lurched sideways through the wormhole. Aeryn clung to the controls, fighting every inch of the journey and surviving mostly on willpower alone.

A shard of metal sheared free, striking her face and grazing it. "Frell" she muttered, shaking long black hair from her face. "This isn't good."

"John!" she screamed, hoping he was still conscious behind her "John, we need more power, can you change it?"

Beneath her, the shuttle bucked and skittered, like a wild horse being tamed. Only this was one wild horse that would never be tamed.

A mutter came from the man behind her and she resisted the urge to turn. "Speak louder, frell it! I can't hear what you said!"

She saw the glare of sun on a sandy beach and knew that their craft appeared along the horizon, streaking like a meteor towards the thin yellow line. Beyond it, she could make out a greener line, following the beach-head. At least there would be something to cushion their landing.

Another piece of metal sheared off, from the outside this time, landing in the sea with a hiss. All of the paint had been stripped away now, by the searing heat of the reentry. If only she could get them down in one piece, perhaps they could contact Moiya, somehow.

John had hell to pay when she managed to get back there. And pay he would!

She yelped as the shuttle bounced off the canopy of trees, then unconsciousness hit her. Hard.

------

It was dark. Not the dark of space, nor the darkness of unconsciousness, but simply dark.

She could hear screams, she thought, fear, distress, but they were distant.

As Aeryn regained full consciousness and adjusted to the very dim light, a stabbing pain lanced through her right arm and she looked down. The tight leather that encased the arm was rent apart, showing a deep gash running through the skin and revealing muscle underneath.

She hissed, trying to gently tease the material away from the wound. All she knew was she needed to keep it clean, but the rest? She blinked, pausing to assess her situation, but for one she couldn't place where she was... second, she couldn't remember how she got there.

She reached up, pushing at the metal sheet that covered her with her good arm. It wouldn't do to be caught here if she's in danger. It felt like it was caught on something and wouldn't move.

"Help!" she called, no hint of panic in her voice. Footsteps were vaguely heard in the soft sand beneath her. "Help me, I'm trapped in here!!!"

She paused, listening to the outside.

The voices were strange and she couldn't understand them, muffled though they were. Even the shouts that indicated her wreckage had been found were incomprehensible.

What the FRELL was happening?

Comments

[Chloe]

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Chloe had just picked up one of the semiautomatic pistols. Jon, reverently examining one of the big-ass weapons, looked her way. "Do you know what you're--" he began, then paused as Chloe popped out the magazine and worked the slide, locking the chamber open. The magazine was empty.

"Apparently I do," Chloe said--just before something crashed not far from the bunker. She hesitated for a moment, tempted to take the gun with her. But if there were holsters around, she didn't see them immediately. Not wanting to carry it in her hand indefinitely, Chloe left it behind as she followed Scott and Ami.

They got ahead of her and by the time she caught up to them they were trying to contain a fire started by the downed aircraft. Chloe joined in, pulling up smaller plants and tossing them away and smothering parts of the fire with what little loose earth she could find. Mad Chris was crouched near the wreck shouting into it.

"There are two people inside," Ami explained when Chloe asked.

"Heads up!" someone shouted. Chloe looked over her shoulder. The soldier--Blaise--approached carrying a pair of shovels. Well, entrenching tools. But the result was the same.

He tossed one to her. Chloe caught it. Blaise jogged around the fire to begin digging on the other side. Chloe pried up a shovelful of black earth and tossed it on the fire. Then another. It would go a lot faster now.

[Aeryn]

[tweets.livejournal.com]

The crashing noises of earth falling on top of the shuttle was something Aeryn could easily identify. "They're burying us alive!" she whispered to John. "They're covering the whole shuttle with earth and just going to leave us..."

Fear clenched at her, a momentary sense of panic. This space was heavily enclosed, was heating up and they were going to be trapped inside a buried capsule! She fumbled with the clasp of her harness, then tried to stand, pushing harder at the wreckage that was trapping them inside. "Hey! Hey, we're in here!!! Don't bury us!"

The heat was stifling now and Aeryn wiped rivulets of sweat from her face. "I can't stand this..."

[Doctor]

[purplerhino.livejournal.com]

Stripping off his jacket, the Doctor reversed it to use as a shield. The top of the ship should be cooler, but would still burn. He retrieved his diagnostic tool out of instinct. (Nearly nine hundred years of use and it had become as much instinct as moving a limb) He was barely aware of thumbing the setting.

"Cover your faces. I'm going to have to break the glass."

The reinforced glass of the cockpit took a moment at high sonic resonance before it shattered.

Useing the jacket as a shield she half leaned in. And ran a quick scan on the woman in the front. "Spine and head are fine. Can you unbelt and get out or do you need me to wriggle in there?"

It would be easier to check on her companion if she were clear.

The Doctor had no clue he was speaking perfect Sabacean.

Re: [Doctor]

[tweets.livejournal.com]

She looked up at the only other person (other than John) that she had understood since the crash. The lump of metal that pinned her still impeded her movement, but she proffered a faintly relieved look as she forced herself to stand again. "With help. But John is still trapped back there. Not sure if you can get him out." She looked up through the small gap that breaking the glass had created.

I've escaped from smaller gaps... she thought, then frowned a little as she wondered how she knew that.

"Look, my right arm's frelled, so I'm going to need your help to get through that, you sure you're not going to injure yourself laying against the hull?"

Redirect

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Ami responded down here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/134827.html?thread=4197035#t4197035).

[Mayday]

[weirdweb.livejournal.com]

There was shouting from inside again, and again May didn't understand the words, but she understood the obvious panic behind them. And if she couldn't understand them, they couldn't understand her. Someone was shoving at one side of the craft, as if trying to push their way out past the twisted metal that was pinning them in. It occurred to her that the craft might be on fire inside as well as outside; if they put it out here, there was no telling what might happen to the occupants inside.

She fumbled through her pack, looking for something, anything, and pulled out a pair of - red-and-blue gloves? Shrugging it off, she pulled them on, deciding they were better than nothing, and then grabbed at the edge of a twisted panel, pulling.

"What are you doing?" Blaise yelled at her.

She didn't respond - shouting would cause her to suck in smoke despite the makeshift face mask she'd made - and pulled with all her might. She could feel the heat of the metal still, but the gloves insulated her hands just enough to do what she had to do.

The metal groaned in protest, and May gave a final yank, and the panel broke free, a slab of metal taller than she was. She stumbled, surprised, and dropped it beside her. How the hell did I do that?

Any further musings on that surprise were brought to a halt as she met the eyes of the startled woman inside the craft.

[Ami]

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

The dirt was smothering the fire, but not quickly enough. Ami's head jerked up at the sound of shattering glass and ripping metal.

What she saw distracted her. The slim, slight teenager May was perched on the craft, and her mind connected the dots. (How did she do that?)

Shaking her head to clear it, Ami focused on the state of the two people inside. They were still alive, but panicking and worried. There was no way to know how long it would take to completely smother the fire and they had to get those people out fast.

(So do it,) a little voice told her.

(I don't even know if I can!) Ami argued with herself.

(You have to try.)

Having reached a silent, internal agreement, Ami nodded. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the occupants of the spacecraft. The man's mind was much easier to sense around and lock onto; the woman's had that alien/unusual/slightly different slickness that her gangly countryman with big ears shared with Ripley and Kenzaki. If she'd had time to reflect, she would have reflected on the fact that she wasn't at all bothered or alarmed by it.

Fully focused on the male occupant of the craft, Ami did not notice the faint tremors that rolled the ground beneath their feet or the craft. She didn't notice the tufts of grass and bits of dirt that blew up from the building energy in the air. She didn't notice the ripples of crackling energy that discharged in the air around her and the craft. All she noticed was the man, his awareness, his physical location and the sudden, jarring shift when he was no longer in the craft, but materializing out of the air on his back, resting gently on the soft wild grasses a few feet away from the metallic oven.

Ami gasped and staggered back. Her eyes popped open. She felt a bit light-headed and after a moment simply dropped to her knees.

But she was smiling and rather proud of herself.

(I did it! I really did it!)

[OOC: Yes, Ami teleported John out of the craft. He's now safely on the ground outside of the burning craft. If you'd rather that didn't happen, magicalelf let me know and I, or one of the mods, can delete this post.]

Re: [Ami]

[magicalelf.livejournal.com]

John had been trying to pull at the twisted mass of metal that was partially blocking the front of the craft. He had heard the faint, dull sounds of dirt hitting the side of the craft as well as mingling of voices outside. The side of his face felt sticky and wet and there was a constant, sharp throbbing pain radiating all around his head.

"Can you hear me?" she called, hoping beyond hope that there was someone out there that could help.

She winced as the noise cut through her throbbing head and glanced apologetically at John. "Sorry..." she whispered

John grunted, closing his eyes a moment as her voice rang around the small interior of the craft. "Yeah .. no problem. Not the first time a woman hasn't listened to me." He wasn't sure how he knew that, but for some reason it seemed to be very true. And there was a nagging belief that perhaps it was this same woman who rarely listened to him.

The reinforced glass of the cockpit took a moment at high sonic resonance before it shattered.

John shouted in alarm as the glass in the front of the craft shattered, raining reinforced glass down inside. He staggered back from the twisted metal he had been tugging on, putting a hand across his face and eyes. "Aeryn, are you alright up there? Can you answer me? Aeryn?"

He moved his hand from in front his eyes and took a step back toward the debris again, he had no idea if the voices he heard outside of the craft were friends or foes. What if they were hostile and only intended on getting them out of this craft so they could put them in some kind of big pot and stew them up. "Aeryn!" he called, yanking at the metal debris. They may have been strangers, but they were strangers together inside this craft.

She didn't notice the ripples of crackling energy that discharged in the air around her and the craft. All she noticed was the man, his awareness, his physical location and the sudden, jarring shift when he was no longer in the craft, but materializing out of the air on his back, resting gently on the soft wild grasses a few feet away from the metallic oven.

John didn't even have a chance to make a sound of surprise. One moment he was inside the craft and the next moment he was lying on his back on what felt like sand. He flailed and rolled onto his side and then pushed to his knees, sand flying around him. He looked around wildly, confused and a little more than panicky. The first thing he saw was a gangly teenager sitting on her knees a few feet in front of him, and behind her, the twisted burning wreckage of the craft he must have been in.

"What ... the hell ...?"


[OOC : holy cats, I need to check LJ more often, ne? I had no idea the game moved so quickly!]