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Post by icon on Dec 16, 2011 0:16:17 GMT -5
A single piece of driftwood floated up on the sand, tossed up by ocean waves.
To any common outsider, this would appear to be perfectly normal. A completely normal piece of seawashed wood, right?
Of course, as is the case with stories like this, nothing is ever as it seems.
The piece of driftwood was, in fact, the entity formerly known as Montana "Monty" Jenkins, world-renowned historian, adventurer, and gentleman explorer. This was, of course, before he had a run-in with one particularly irate genie.
"Stupid genie," the driftwood grumbled to itself. Monty had discovered that he was still able to talk for some strange reason, despite having neither a voice box nor a mouth to speak through. He figured that the genie had probably just been too lazy to curse him the entire way through.
Now here he was, a single piece of driftwood on the sand of a mysterious island. This would be absolutely lovely.
"Hello? Anyone out there that can here me?" As he called out on the beach, mused that a talking piece of driftwood would probably be considered out of the ordinary by most, but if he was able to pull this off he might be able to make an amusing story from it. Heck, he might even be able to get himself freed if he tried. He'd see where this took him. After all, he wasn't in any position to take himself anywhere now, was he?
((Is it still cool for unofficial players to pop in? Is that still a thing that can be done?))
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Post by Robyn on Dec 16, 2011 0:32:35 GMT -5
Q stood by the side of the pool, staring intently into the water. After drawing deep from the scent of the wild hibiscus bush, Moonflower bounded over to get a look for herself. Down where the water began to get wide and dark, she swore she saw a flick of a tail and the bat of undersea lashes. She latched onto one of Q's arms in excitement.
"Look! Oh my gosh, I think it's one of them!" she squealed, bouncing on her toes.
Moonflower then dropped to her knees without warning. After a long, calm inhale, she dunked her head beneath the surface. It was refreshing not to have salt stinging at her eyes for once, whether it be from the ocean or her tears. However, if she really had spotted a limnade, it had only been for a second. The pool was empty.
There was a great upheaval of water and hair as she came back up for breath. Dripping and smiling, she got back to her feet. It was then that she realized Q did not look half as happy. It was also around that time that she heard the sound of thunder. She looked up. The sky was absolutely clear.
Staring into the depths of the forest, she murmured, "Where's that sound coming from?"
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Post by Avery on Dec 16, 2011 0:34:28 GMT -5
"Oh, no we didn't. I don't think with all these... murders anyone is much hungry."Nelly sighed. She hated to admit that Christopher was right, but well-- he was right. Everyone was sick with worry, and they didn't much feel like pork chops, no matter how perfectly cooked they were. Nelly inhaled the succulent aroma, and her stomach rumbled a bit. She almost reached for a chop, then at the last moment recalled their source. She resisted. No need for human meat, not yet, she wasn't that hungry. "Miss Nelly... Why are we killing people? I mean, the islanders. Isn't that letting the killers win? Cassie, Mina, and Gregory didn't seem at all like killers, and Selm didn't either... she was so quiet, how could she be a killer? It's... almost sad. No! It is sad! Death is always sad." "It's very sad, hon," she said soothingly. "And I do not know why those savages insist on executions. To feel useful, I suppose. But no matter. Let's not let them concern us. We shall exist just the two of us, and pay no heed to them." ((Icon: yes.  Unofficial players are warmly, warmly welcomed.))
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Post by Draco on Dec 16, 2011 0:45:23 GMT -5
Q broke eye contact with the water creature when he heard loud noises thundering from the forest. Meanwhile Moonflower was having a closer look at the pool. He stared hard at the forest, trying to make out what was in it. A dark shadowy figure could be seen. A large shadow, with smaller ones around it. A few moments later, a question from Moonflower, and Q could start to see what was coming.
"The forest."
He stands up, pulling Moonflower up with him as the shadow grew even larger.
"Run."
He begins to run as a giant boar, about the size of a adult human, and many normal size boars stampede towards them. They run for it as fast as they could, and over time the large boar, now dubbed The Boar Queen, stopped the chase, and the 'smaller' ones soon stopped as well. Q slows down to a walk panting a little.
"I think we may have been in their territory..."
He looks around the forest to find out where they were and spotted the ocean through some of the trees.
"Perhaps we should return to the group."
He begins to walk back towards the beach.
"We'll need to go back to the oasis later, perhaps with some backup, so we can fetch some water."
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Post by Rosalie Dylas (Maddy) on Dec 16, 2011 15:30:09 GMT -5
"It's very sad, hon," she said soothingly. "And I do not know why those savages insist on executions. To feel useful, I suppose. But no matter. Let's not let them concern us. We shall exist just the two of us, and pay no heed to them."
"I guess you're right... we shouldn't pay attention to them." Christopher said, determined. He just has to ignore the chaos that was happening around him.
"Hello? Anyone out there that can here me?
"What?" Christopher said without thinking. A new voice, a voice who hadn't been on the island before, he was certain of that.
"Hello..?" he asked, walking towards the voice, being very careful to avoid the pork chops.
He stopped when he thought he had gotten close to the source, and he had. He stood in front of a piece of driftwood, but of course he didn't know that.
"Hello...? Who are you? How did you get here?" Christopher asked the man, because the voice obviously wasn't female and it didn't sound young.
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Post by Celestial on Dec 16, 2011 15:54:35 GMT -5
Well, at least they got one. There were still three more to go. But the death of the killer did not invigorate Shani like she thought it would. She felt lethargic. After beating up Thomas, he had become silent due to his illness and Shani, she had achieved catharsis. Now there simply was not much for her to do. Q and Moonflower had gone into the forest but Shani did not feel like joining them. She lay on the beach in the sun, staring up into space.
Thomas should really not have mentioned the doctors. Sure, it was not like she was actually experimented on but she got too close, closer than most people would have liked. That stressful, horrible and uncertain experience had left its mark on her.
However, as the day wore on, the angel heard a rustling from the shrubbery behind her which led to the forest. She turned around to see Moonflower and Q running out. They were speaking about an oasis and backup. Sounds like they found something good. Shani stood up and shook the sand out of her clothes and wings.
"If you need backup, I'll be more than happy to help," she said cooly, spreading her wings slightly.
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Post by Lizica on Dec 16, 2011 23:28:51 GMT -5
He was not the brightest bird on the island, not by a long shot. He was, however, by general consent, the best imitator. He could do it all: waterfalls crashing, wind rushing, boars rampaging, coconuts falling... Make a sound, and the bird would mimic it almost perfectly.
Which is not to say he'd ever been able to attract a mate in his fantastic courting display. They always seemed frightened when he did his human voice impressions. Once, a young fisherman had made a brief stop at the island for fresh water, and the bird had learned two valuable phrases from him: "Stupid fishing line!" and "Leave me alone, you stupid bird!"
The bird had been thrilled to find that more humans had arrived on the island. Humans were, after all, raucous and strange and made all sorts of fantastic noises that he could use to imitate. He'd been hovering around them for several days, picking up new and exciting sounds and phrases here and there. It would be a lie to say he understood a word of it himself, but if there was one thing the bird liked besides imitating, it was loud chaos. Sudden movements and sudden noises terrified him, but loud chaos made him feel like he was getting reactions to his impressions--a bit like getting a standing ovation.
He was not the brightest bird on the island. The birdbrained bird might have kept away from the humans if he had overheard something about eating talking parrots and if he had realized that if they were surviving on coconuts, seaweed, boars, and "beef," they would certainly have no qualms about shooting down an annoying tropical bird.
Presently, however, oblivious to any danger, the bird fluttered onto a palm tree to do some practice.
"It looks like she lost her signal!" he squawked. Then, puffing up his colorful chest feathers impressively, he added, "Who shall we eliminate next? They're pretty much the best at it. Two strait jackets over here. TWO. STRAIT. JACKETS!"
((*wave wave* Hiya! Another unofficial latecomer here.))
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Post by icon on Dec 16, 2011 23:40:40 GMT -5
Monty would have smiled if he could. He would have wriggled with joy if he could as well, but since there was no way of moving on his own he was sort of stuck in the position he was at.
He had realized that as well as talking he was able to hear others- there was a young voice walking up on the beach now, he heard the sound of footsteps on the sand.
Monty laughed nervously. "Hello there... whoever you are. I'm afraid I can't see you, I've gotten myself into a bit of a, ah, a situation, shall we call it. It's a pleasure to meet you, though- my name is Montana Jenkins, though you may call me Monty." His voice quavered a bit. "As for how I got here, I just sort of got washed up, I suppose? It's a very, very long story, as I'm sure you can see." He chuckled, unaware of the irony in his statement.
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Post by Rosalie Dylas (Maddy) on Dec 17, 2011 1:18:12 GMT -5
"Nice to meet you Monty." Christopher said, smiling, happy to know the name of the voice. "I'm Christopher." he added, since it was only polite.
"You.... washed up...?" Christopher said, trying to figure out how that would work. "How did you survive in the ocean? I don't..." Christopher said, hopelessly confused, but of course he was always hopelessly confused.
It's a very, very long story, as I'm sure you can see."
"Ummm... do you mean literally?" Christopher asked, almost embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I can't exactly see... I'm blind." Christopher explained sheepishly.
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Post by Avery on Dec 17, 2011 12:30:13 GMT -5
Everyone was tired of hearing him talk.
Talktalktalk, rantrantrant-- it was all he did, all the time. At first, they had been able to tune him out, but at a certain point, his voice became like a bad car wreck: they simply could not look away-- could not tune him out-- and frankly, he was starting to grow more than just a bit irritating to the survivors.
The killers were no exception to this rule. They were so tired of listening to Thomas Everington of Everington Cakes Unlimited. So tired. They had to put an end to him, for their own sanity.
So they lured him into the woods with the promise that why, a satellite phone had been discovered, and Daddy was on the other line, ready to pick up his sweet Tommykins! Thomas all but rushed into the trap, positively glib.
"Why, Daddy is going to be so upset when he hears all that has happened to me! I bet he will order you all executed, and you deserve it, for stressing me out with this island! An island, with no air conditioning, no less. Ah, Daddy shall hear it and--"
He was in mid-sentence when one of the killers whacked him over the head with a fallen coconut. Thomas fell, flummoxed. The killers whacked and whacked and whacked again until finally, mercifully, Thomas Everington was silent.
*
It was unfortunate for them, though. Though the killers didn't know it, Thomas was their ally. An annoying ally, but still. He loved those killers, thought what they were doing was wonderful, even if he was too cowardly to personally join in on the carnage. He had seen them once, committing a crime, and revered them. He had known who was steering him into those woods, but he was so smug, he never thought they would actually kill him. Alas, a fatal mistake.
Thomas Everington was the Sympathizer.
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Post by Lizzie on Dec 17, 2011 22:08:22 GMT -5
Sam didn't see Thomas anywhere. This was not good.
Usually, she could hear him, even when he was far away, his voice seemed to... carry.
And not hearing it was very, very bad.
"Guys? Is anyone awake?" Sam started wandering around throwing rocks at tents and shelters.
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Post by Avery on Dec 17, 2011 22:20:17 GMT -5
Nelly was sleeping very peacefully in her tent, Christopher curled up into a ball at her side, when she was dragged into the land of consciousness courtesy of a rock whacking her in the head. For a moment, she thought the killer had come hither, and her heart seized. Then, she heard the little country bumpkin Sam screaming about something or another.
Irritated and little flustered, Nelly ducked out of the tent and marched over to the hysterical girl.
"Why are you screaming?" she demanded as others began to gather around.
And then she noticed something. Beyond Sam's yelling, it was silent. None of the assembling crowd was blathering about eating puppies or slapping orphans. Thomas. Where was Thomas?
She scanned the faces of the survivors around her, came up short. No, the sniveling idiot was not here. Which probably meant... ugh. Her stomach twisted.
"The moron is missing," she announced. "We probably ought to send a search party."
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Post by Nova on Dec 17, 2011 22:53:59 GMT -5
When Hunter woke this morning, he noticed how quiet and peaceful it was. He picked a coconut from his palm tree, and silently enjoyed the mor-
Hunter's eyes fixed his eyes to the camp. It was quiet. For the first time since they were marooned on this island it's quiet. Hunter knew that only one thing could've happened last night: the mafia attacked again. They killed Thomas Everington.
Then, just as it all dawned on him, Sam yelled and screamed, throwing rocks at people. The morning was about to get crazy, but it would actually be a lot more sane without Thomas yelling and saying his "Daddy will have a fit as soon as he finds this out and put you all in jail".
But without the inane racket, maybe now something could get done before the people get angry and rise up and kill one of their own again. There was one person Hunter had been suspicious of, and this entire time had stayed out of the killings, both from the killers and the lynching: Captain Dean Comwell. He was quiet, too quiet. And it's the quiet people you need to watch out for.
He walked towards the tents, and looked for Captain Dean. He found him just waking up. "Where were you last night?" Hunter asked, eying him suspiciously.
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Post by Robyn on Dec 17, 2011 22:59:14 GMT -5
Having escaped a narrow run-in in the forest with the help of Q, Moonflower was strangely relieved to be back at the beach. She was sure she could have communed with whatever threatening creatures there might have been lurking in those woods, but it was also sort of nice to be back among people (or angels, in Shani's case) with intelligent auras. They let everybody know about the oasis they'd found, although the other survivors didn't seem to pay much attention to her claims of spirits swimming beneath the falls. Well, no matter. At least Q believed her.
With a long day stretching behind her, Moonflower settled down to sleep in her pit of a shelter. And then for the third time in a row, she was woken up by screams. It was starting to get a little bit grating. She did her best to find her center as she got up to an odd amount of silence.
"Thomas is gone?" she asked.
Moonflower tried very hard not to feel relieved.
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Post by Draco on Dec 18, 2011 0:14:19 GMT -5
Looking at Shani, Q bows a little.
"Next time we venture into the forest, your assistance would be most welcome. After what you did to that kid, I think a boar doesn't stand a chance, not even The Boar Queen."
He then bowed to Moonflower.
"Until tomorrow."
He walked over to his living area, dug around in his trunk, and pulled out a cocktail to drink. He laid back and relaxed for the night.
---
The next morning he woke up to silence.
"Something seems off."
He rolls over and tries to go back to sleep, only to turn back over.
"It's too quiet!"
He stands up.
"It's too quiet! Where's the morning rant rooster?!"
He walks over to Thomas' tent and sticks his head in. He takes his head out to receive a rock to the head.
"Ow! The noisy one is missing."
He rubs his head.
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Unofficial players are warmly, warmly welcomed.))
