[GAME EVENT] Team Cockpit: It's Out There
Jan. 17th, 2006 09:01 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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crossing_lostrpContinued from here.
Megabyte felt it before the others did. Maybe there was something to be said for being telepathic, but then again maybe not, because he wasn't sure he liked the oppressing feeling that suddenly crept on him and weighed him down. His heart sped up, and instincts more animal than human threatened to take over. Something told him to run, teleport, do anything but just get away . . . and get away now.
"Hey, can we get a move on it guys?" Pretty Boy called up from outside.
"Oh hold your horses," Rodney snapped, although not loud enough for his words to carry beyond the cockpit. With a final twist and snap, the transceiver was free, everything salvageable had been salvaged and Megabyte released the breath that he hadn't noticed he was holding. "Now, we can 'get a move on it.'"
Rodney backed up, pushing Megabyte slightly out of the cockpit and to allow Jon to reach around and help the pilot with freeing himself from the safety belt and the pilot's seat. The young man must have noticed it then as well, because he stopped and squinted out of the window. "Oh shit."
Although everything in him told him not to, Megabyte followed Jon's gaze out of the window. Although the angle was awkward it was easy to tell the whole jungle was swaying – or being ripped apart. A moment later, the ground shook and the front third of the plane shook around bouncing them roughly.
"What –" the pilot lifted himself up, poking his head through the window.
Jon attempted to pull the man back down, "You don't want to do that. Get back in here."
And then It – whatever It was – was on them. There were shouts and screams from the ground below and rapid gunfire. The pilot tried to scramble back inside the cockpit, but something held him fast and with a blood-chilling scream, kicking legs, a loud gurgling and splash of blood, he was gone, violently ripped from the plane.
The action shook the fuselage and the transceiver tumbled from Rodney's fingers, clattering over to wedge itself in the corner by the co-pilot. The gun fire had ceased and all was quiet, but Megabyte was deathly afraid to call out. He really wanted to hang onto the hope that Sergeant Blaise, Locke, George and hell, even Pretty Boy were all right down there.
Jon turned his body, attempting to wedge his arm into the small space, but the transceiver remained steadily out of reach. Jon swore, quite colorfully, and shifted positions.
/Megabyte?/ He heard Ami, but really this wasn't the time for a play-by-play.
/Not now./ He severed the contact; he'd explain later, she'd understand.
"Jon, let me," Megabyte pushed his way into the cockpit. Whatever It was – and he was grateful that he hadn't seen It – It was gone for now, but It might come back. The further they were away when that happened, so much the better.
Jon gave him an odd look, but whatever look Megabyte gave him in return must have cinched it because the younger man scrambled over to the pilot's seat, plastering himself as far back from the window as possible. Megabyte took Jon's spot on the floor, knowing that his arm would not even reach as far as Jon's did. But that wasn't the point.
With a quick thought, he felt the transceiver in his mind, then it was wiggling loose and skittering across the cockpit into his waiting hand, telekinetically pulled free. He didn't know if Jon saw, and he didn't care at that moment. The transceiver meant that they were step closer to rescue and one step closer to home.
Megabyte waved it at Jon and Rodney, "Now let's get the hell out of here."
OOC Note: Leaving it open for those outside to interpret what they saw. It was not a T-Rex, however. It was very much akin to this.
Megabyte felt it before the others did. Maybe there was something to be said for being telepathic, but then again maybe not, because he wasn't sure he liked the oppressing feeling that suddenly crept on him and weighed him down. His heart sped up, and instincts more animal than human threatened to take over. Something told him to run, teleport, do anything but just get away . . . and get away now.
"Hey, can we get a move on it guys?" Pretty Boy called up from outside.
"Oh hold your horses," Rodney snapped, although not loud enough for his words to carry beyond the cockpit. With a final twist and snap, the transceiver was free, everything salvageable had been salvaged and Megabyte released the breath that he hadn't noticed he was holding. "Now, we can 'get a move on it.'"
Rodney backed up, pushing Megabyte slightly out of the cockpit and to allow Jon to reach around and help the pilot with freeing himself from the safety belt and the pilot's seat. The young man must have noticed it then as well, because he stopped and squinted out of the window. "Oh shit."
Although everything in him told him not to, Megabyte followed Jon's gaze out of the window. Although the angle was awkward it was easy to tell the whole jungle was swaying – or being ripped apart. A moment later, the ground shook and the front third of the plane shook around bouncing them roughly.
"What –" the pilot lifted himself up, poking his head through the window.
Jon attempted to pull the man back down, "You don't want to do that. Get back in here."
And then It – whatever It was – was on them. There were shouts and screams from the ground below and rapid gunfire. The pilot tried to scramble back inside the cockpit, but something held him fast and with a blood-chilling scream, kicking legs, a loud gurgling and splash of blood, he was gone, violently ripped from the plane.
The action shook the fuselage and the transceiver tumbled from Rodney's fingers, clattering over to wedge itself in the corner by the co-pilot. The gun fire had ceased and all was quiet, but Megabyte was deathly afraid to call out. He really wanted to hang onto the hope that Sergeant Blaise, Locke, George and hell, even Pretty Boy were all right down there.
Jon turned his body, attempting to wedge his arm into the small space, but the transceiver remained steadily out of reach. Jon swore, quite colorfully, and shifted positions.
/Megabyte?/ He heard Ami, but really this wasn't the time for a play-by-play.
/Not now./ He severed the contact; he'd explain later, she'd understand.
"Jon, let me," Megabyte pushed his way into the cockpit. Whatever It was – and he was grateful that he hadn't seen It – It was gone for now, but It might come back. The further they were away when that happened, so much the better.
Jon gave him an odd look, but whatever look Megabyte gave him in return must have cinched it because the younger man scrambled over to the pilot's seat, plastering himself as far back from the window as possible. Megabyte took Jon's spot on the floor, knowing that his arm would not even reach as far as Jon's did. But that wasn't the point.
With a quick thought, he felt the transceiver in his mind, then it was wiggling loose and skittering across the cockpit into his waiting hand, telekinetically pulled free. He didn't know if Jon saw, and he didn't care at that moment. The transceiver meant that they were step closer to rescue and one step closer to home.
Megabyte waved it at Jon and Rodney, "Now let's get the hell out of here."
OOC Note: Leaving it open for those outside to interpret what they saw. It was not a T-Rex, however. It was very much akin to this.
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(frozen) [George] Blaise Isn't Happy (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-19 09:58 pm (UTC)Blaise turned to Locke. "And how the hell do you know that?"
"It seems satisfied to have carried off the pilot," Locke said. He spoke with quiet assurance. "Clearly gunfire had no effect on it. If it were interested in taking more of us, it would still be here."
"It..." Blaise stared at Locke. To George's eyes he was clearly wondering if everyone around him had lost their minds. Boone running off--which George had to admit wasn't the cleverest thing to do. George wanting to go after the dead pilot. Locke agreeing to tag along.
George watched Blaise scrub his face with one hand. She had a moment of sympathy for him. He was trying so hard to protect everyone and--from his point of view--everyone was doing their damnedest to make his job harder, if not impossible. Just now he reminded George of Rube trying to herd his crew of squabbling reapers.
Blaise sighed and dropped his hand. He looked up. "No," he said. "We're going back to camp."
"But--the pilot!" George objected. If she could persuade them to go along on the search, she could find the body, pop the pilot's soul and then let them lead her back to camp. They'd be none the wiser. If they wouldn't come along on the search for the pilot, George could always run off like Boone had. She didn't want to. For one thing, they'd probably stick around to search for her, which would only complicate things and might get someone hurt.
Blaise turned on her. "You know what? Fine!" He shifted his gaze to Locke. "Knock yourselves out." (Wow, he's really mad,) George thought.
Damon looked shocked and started to protest. Blaise cut him off. "No--I'm not their keeper. I'm not going to shoot anyone over this. I'm not willing to tie them up and carry them either. So if they want to go, they can go.
"We, however, and the others are heading back to camp now. They've gotten what we came for, so there's no reason to stay." Blaise looked to Locke again. "You can follow the signs we left."
Locke nodded.
"Great," Blaise said. "See you there. Marma--Damon, as soon as the others are out, we're leaving."
(frozen) [Jon] (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-19 10:52 pm (UTC)He stared openly at both George and Locke, hoping to see some indecision or at least a reasonable - sane - amount of fear, but no. Did they not realise how much of a miracle it was that the pilot had been alive enough to say hi in the first place, let alone after being dragged through the jungle by.. whatever it was..
"Sergeant, I presume you were shooting at something, right?"
"Uh, yes." The Marine sounded off-balance, and not just by the suggestion that they chase this mystery beast.
"And..?" Somehow Jon didn't think he was going to like this answer.
Locke cut in this time, his tone firm. "The island took a man who may still be alive. This young woman was in a good position to see his condition, and if she believes there's still a chance we shouldn't leave him behind."
Oh crap, there was the magic line. No. No no no no no. "So Boone ran off and the pilot got half-eaten, and the one you propose to go searching for is - let's see - the guy most likely to be dead?"
The older man inclined his chin, much like Teal'c when his sense of honor was being slightly squished by Earth-bound priorities. Faaaaabulous..
"We're not going to be able to stop you, are we?"
"No," George replied - and she looked dead set.
Jon turned to the fuselage and banged his head against the cold metal a few times. Not that he wanted to leave people behind, let alone see others attempt idiotic search and rescue runs, but if a Marine with a P90 couldn't talk them out of it..
"For the record, I think you're both crazy - surviving a plane crash doesn't mean you're suddenly invulnerable." Hey, there's five whole syllables in that - cool. "But since you insist, how 'bout we give you some of our food and water to take along? Maybe you can have a nice picnic out there, while we enjoy roast polar bear."
(frozen) [Megabyte] (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-19 11:30 pm (UTC)There was no way in hell that the pilot was alive, but if it would make them feel better to get a nice close up of what Jon probably pretty accurately described, so be it.
"Good luck to you."
(frozen) [George] (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-19 11:47 pm (UTC)She glanced at Locke who gave her a reassuring smile. "Well, bye," George said. "See you later."
She turned and walked off into the jungle with Locke following behind.
OOC: And with that, I think it's time to start a new thread for George & Locke's Excellent Adventure!
(frozen) [Rodney] (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-20 03:31 am (UTC)He fisted his hands around the straps of his pack to control their trembling. "Now, let's get the hell out of here before whatever it was decides to come back. And what the hell did he mean 'the island took him'? No, no, you know what?" McKay did a complete verbal 180. "I don't want to know. For the first time in my life I am completely and utterly non-curious, uninterested, and am not going to follow up on this. No, I just want to go home, back to my real life."
(frozen) [Jon] (open tag)
Date: 2006-01-20 11:15 am (UTC)He hefted his pack until the transceiver was no longer jabbing into his bruised ribs, then took a look around the rest of the group.
"Can we just get on with this and head back? We've got a barbeque to attend. It's bring-a-dish and apparently we're providing the main course."
(frozen) Moving
Date: 2006-01-21 12:56 am (UTC)