crossing_lostrp | Over Hill, over Dale.. (overland crew)

purplerhino.livejournal.com posting in

The Doctor had converted Blaise and Daniel's communicaters. They looked a bit silly, but they worked.

The Doctor kept Blaise's, as he couldn't speak Aramaic so that simple code excluded the marine.

The Doctor saw Chris take Jack to the camp he was to help guard, and waited for the young man’s return to be sure the trip went well, then he took off in the direction Damon and Scott had marked on a crude map.

At six foot two the Doctor had long strides, and found himself cutting back just a bit, because losing his volunteers would not help the mission.

They didn’t follow a trail, except the one he broke in as they shoved through underbrush and grasses. If it weren’t for the rough map and the occasional sight of the far off whisp of smoke, getting lost would seem an easy thing.

They ate up ground at a stride that had most of them getting a stitch in their sides and a burn in their lungs long before the first ‘break’. It had been hours of walking over uneven ground, through brush and trees and pressed upon by tropical heat. The water was a godsend. The terrain would have been beautiful if they were able to pause and appreciate it.

Threaded | Flat

From:

aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com

The exertion was intense, but Drill Seargant's dad's training came in handy...as did Faith's swinging hips that were often quite conveniently in front of him. He was still glad when they stopped for the first break.

Sam had the bag for the moment and threw some water at him. "Catch." Dean caught it easily enough and chugged the water. /Dad always said water does no damn good in a bottle. Looks like Sam has cooled off. That's good./ Dean thought to himself along with, /Damn, good water./

Once he had caught his breath and cooled down a bit, Dean asked to no one in particular. "So, who are these 'damsels in distress' anyway? If I'm going to be involved with saving someone, I'd at least like to know their name."

From:

starborn-scribe.livejournal.com

Judging from the sun's position in the sky they'd been marching for an hour since the first break. Scott was pleasantly surprised that he wasn't tiring as quickly as he had when they'd started the trek. Whatever psionics? magic? Molly had worked had gone a long way to restoring the energy he'd used the previous day. From the way Molly's shoulders slumped, though, her efforts came at a cost. Scott hoped that she wouldn't have to push herself too far because she'd helped him.

That thought prompted more worrying about all of the dangers they could be rushing headlong into: Rousseau and her traps, the Others, wild boar, polar bears, the kidnappers themselves, and everyone's favorite, the man-eating smoke monster. (And, being Mindfuck Island, who knows what else is lurking? Ninjas? The Flying Spaghetti Monster? Pirates?)

Scott's loneliness and despair doubled. It took him a moment to realize why: the absence of Ami's amusement. In just a few weeks he'd grown accustomed to her mental presence. He enjoyed making her laugh. Now her laughter was gone.

Stabbing pain suddenly shot through his head. Scott cried out and stumbled, then was completely unaware of his surroundings. (Ami!) Her shadow in the back of his mind solidified into her. Scott embraced her with his consciousness, absently noting how muzzy and unbalanced her mind and body were. The pain he felt was hers. More importantly, Ami was alive and on the island.

Joy, love, and hope overwhelmed coherent thought. As he struggled to say something telepathically, nausea joined redoubled pain and Ami was gone.

The next thing Scott knew water splashed on his face. Sputtering, he squinted up at Jon's upside-down visage. The teenager didn't look very happy.

OOC: Scott said "Ami!" aloud as well. Also, I tagged Jon because he's marching behind Scott.

From:

purplerhino.livejournal.com

The pace had slowed only a bit more, to account for human endurance limits, which apparently didn't apply to Faith, or May to a degree.

A few more hours and they'd stop, stretch muscles, eat and get some sleep. He wasn't stopping until full dark descended.

But there was a danger to speed and breaking a new trail. He was reminded of it all too quickly as he tripped over when he thought was a low root. He went with a shoulder roll so as not to land on his face, when he heard the crashing of something heavy through the trees.

"TRAP." Was all he could call outas he rolled to lay flat on his back as a log bearing many sharpened wooden steaks swung down and barely skimmed over him.

He rolled clear and heard another creak , watching a bamboo wall of vegetation and spikes coming from what had been the front of the line. It was heading right for Jon and Sam.

Time slowed. Literally. Otherwise the two kids were sure to be dead. Outside the limited field of slowed time the Doctor managed to get to his feet and run, tackling both men to the ground just clear of the wall of spikes. Time resumed its normal pace.

Now the Doctor was tired as well. Manipulating time on that level was much more taxing than that little leaf demonstration weeks ago. He managed to get up and brush himself off as the boys got themselves together.

The original spiked log swung back, harmless as no one was in its path anymore. Until it, also hit a tree with an explosive crack, sending sharpened wooden protrusions flying.

“Look out!” The Doctor heard a female voice, Molly, May or Faith he wasn’t certain. But then something slammed into his shoulder. He felt like he’d been kicked by a sorka beast.

He looked down to see a wooden spike protruding from his shoulder. His first thought was… he had a hole in his leather jacket. His second thought was… oh fuck. The pain hit.