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Post by champ103 on Sept 5, 2005 14:43:50 GMT -5
Hello to you. I have been one of many people watching 'Lost' recently on UK television, and as I'm sure many people have done so, thought that it would be good as a 667 fanfiction.
Now, if you find anything in future volumes mirrors the actual programme 'Lost' be wary that I've only seen six episodes, and all of it was planned when I'd only seen about four.
'Factory', the other fanfiction I'm currently working on, is not being prosponed or anything of the sort. I just hope you all love the waiting game whilst I write chapters for both of these fanfictions.
I'd thought I'd begin with a list of the main survivors of the plane crash we'd be focusing on. If you're not involved, think of yourself as dead, although maybe a minor role could be adapted.
SURVIVORS 1-James Berry 2-Kimia Etemadi 3-J (real name unknown to the survivors) 4-Pandora Netwiss 5-Akbar Ahmed 6-Erin Celinra 7-Dante Rubens 8-Bella Michelina 9-Philip Jucker 10-Annelise Jucker 11-Luis Weasley 12-Antenora Weasley 13-Sam Boddy 14-Marc Pig 15-Derik Quinn 16-Michael Anthony 17-Char Timar 18-Robert Jay 19-Amber Betts 20-Gigi Grune 21-Sebastian Who Now, what follows is Volume One of the story, which I started writing last week, and finished earlier today. I'm rather pleased with it, but feel free to give me constructive critisism about it, since that'll help me with my writing.
And beware, it's pretty dang long. I'm sort of wondering whether all of the volumes are going to be this long. [shrug]
VOLUME GUIDE
volume one-Aftermath-A MICHAEL VOLUME 'As the survivors of the plane crash come to terms with what happened, a party is send out to see what's on the island.'
volume two-Crumble-AN ANNELISE VOLUME 'Two of the search party are trapped when a cliff collapses on top a cave, whilst the daughter of one of the survivors is found dead.'
volume three-Pyromania-A MARC VOLUME 'The front of the plane is no longer missing when Marc discovers it, and some more survivors inside. Meanwhile, the dead bodies are collected to be burnt.'
volume four-Observence (Part One)-A PANDORA VOLUME 'The beach is invaded by deadly mosquitoes, and as Pandora sets out with Akbar to find where they came from, Luis thinks he can find some repellent.'
volume five-Observence (Part Two)-AN AKBAR VOLUME 'Pandora is kept hostage, as the search for repellent continues, and as James needs a special message to be translated.'
volume six-Stalkers-A LUIS VOLUME 'The hunt for the mysterious figure of the island goes underway, as Pandora is returned to the beach, and as Akbar goes missing.'
volume seven-Employment-A BELLA VOLUME 'PJ asks for Bella's aid to help him find Annelise, who had disappeared along the beach in search of Akbar. Meanwhile, the story of Antenora's jungle life before she was found is revealed.'
volume eight-Secrets-A ROBERT VOLUME
volume nine-Evaluations-AN ANNELISE VOLUME
volume ten-Diagnosis-A J VOLUME 'No sypnosis.'
volume eleven--A KIMIA VOLUME
volume twelve-Shade-AN ERIN VOLUME 'After a turn for the worst, Dante is left fighting for his life.'
volume thirteen-Rid-A CHAR VOLUME
volume fourteen-Sunset-A SAM VOLUME
volume fifteen-Investigations-A MICHAEL VOLUME 'Michael is riddled with guilt after throwing away J's injections.'
volume sixteen-Velocity-A JAMES VOLUME
volume seventeen-Luck-AN AMBER VOLUME
volume eighteen-Nevermore-AN PHILIPVOLUME
volume nineteen-Recollections-A DANTE VOLUME
volume twenty-Floating-A DERIK VOLUME
volume twenty-one-Danger-AN EVERYONE EPISODE
Volume One ‘Aftermath’
n. [/i] 1.A consequence, especially of a disaster or misfortune 2.A period of time following a disastrous event 3.A second growth or crop in the same season, as of grass after mowing
The woman picked up the phone as she stood nervously in the plane, breathing recycled air, and feeling the rumbling vibration of the aircraft beneath her feet. She spoke a soft word into it, one word to start of the conversation. And then she listened. She listened carefully to what the man on the other line had to say. His voice sounded tense and nervous, but she nodded to everything in agreement, despite the fact he wasn’t quite there to see it. She took a deep breath before replying as he finished talking. ‘Now?’ she asked, unsure, her hands shaking, her whole body ready to collapse within her emotion. ‘Are you...’ she paused. ‘Are you sure?’ The reply was ‘yes’, and she gasped as she took in the information. ‘I…I know I don’t have much say in it,’ she replied. ‘But surely, think about it all, think about the actions.’ There was a reply. ‘I know, I know,’ she said. There was a pause. The woman had been on planes many a times-she was not scared of flying, but she always had a small nervous reaction in the pit of her stomach whenever she felt the true power of take off, or the clash of landing. But now she was feeling true horror-and not just because of planes. She sighed, and flung herself down on the seat, still holding the phone to her ear although no one was saying anything. ‘I guess that’s it,’ she murmured. There was a reply instantly, and she shook her head. ‘But when I get off this flight…’ She did not continue. Instead, she stopped talking, and put the phone away, back where she had taken it. She flunked herself back onto her seat, and quickly put on her seatbelt tightly, before placing her hands on her thighs and taking a long, nervous breath. It was going to be a long day. Then after second thought, she suspected it may not be so long after all.
Michael Anthony screamed. It was seconds since he had awoken, and memories were already flooding back towards him. Memories of sitting on the plane, nervous already, memories were already flooding back towards him even then, before the plane rumbled and spluttered and started diving towards the ground. Even before he found himself thrown from his chair, the voices of screaming passengers tumbling into his ears. Even before the crash. Michael wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious for: minutes, hours, days? Maybe even longer. But as he took a few steps away from the trees and the plants, and heard more screaming, and the sound of destruction, he knew it only happened a short time ago. He stepped out onto the soft sands, one of his feet bare, the other covered with a tattered shoe. He felt blood run down his face and his back, and he felt weary and tired as he took a few steps closer. There was no sign of anyone, but as he approached something shadowed ahead of him-a small part from the plane he had been safely on minutes ago, as he thought. He walked up to it, and scraped his hand against the metal. It looked mangled and confused; all twisted together, the plane’s logo just visible between endless paths of entangled ruins. He sighed-it had all happened so suddenly-the flight was sailing fine, the atmosphere was happy, and then suddenly… Michael put his hand on his head in confusion-it was aching greatly after the trauma of the plane crash, and he felt weak at the knees as he walked away from the small ruin from the plane, and towards the screams. He didn’t want to think about the actual incident of the plane crashing, but he could feel the force of the crash whenever he did, and it turned his stomach. He could collect the moment, but he could remember the feelings running through his head and the sight of other people in the same position as him. And then he saw it again. He turned around a corner in the sand that showed a new part of the island- a part surrounded by corpses and wounded people, people screaming as they ran from the plane wreckage, which was torn and carelessly thrown around the otherwise beautiful beach. He didn’t know what to do: should he turn around and walk in the other direction, or go towards the wreckage. By the sounds of things people needed help, so he went with the latter and broke into a thick run towards one wing of the plane that was closest to him. Arms and legs stuck out from beneath it, and Michael wondered if anyone could have survived being crushed by it. He couldn’t life the wing alone-that was for sure. And he didn’t think even all of the few survivors-in their states after the crash-could lift it. He decided to walk further on, and was quickly accompanied by a raggedy looking young man-early twenties by the looks of things, with a worried look on his face, and a suitcase handle in one hand. ‘Dude, are you okay?’ he said. His accent was Australian. ‘Um…yeah,’ Michael replied quietly, his voice very tense and unsure. ‘But I think some people…’ ‘Are dead?’ the other voice said. ‘Yeah. You’re the first person I’ve found that’s…not dead.’ ‘It’s that bad, huh?’ Michael said nervously, and stopped on the spot, the other man stopping with him, before sticking out one pale hand. ‘I’m Philip Jucker,’ he said. Michael shook it with one of his blood stained hands. ‘Michael Anthony,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Philip said afterwards. ‘If only it were in better circumstances, hey?’ Michael said in a jokey voice, and the two of them turned towards the rest of the plane ruins, where people were screaming, bleeding. Dying. Philip was wearing a thin-material hooded jacket, with the hood off, trailing down his back, and the zipper up halfway. Covering his legs were black denim jeans, one leg of them falling to pieces in the aftermath of the crash. Unlike Michael, he was wearing two shoes, each of them big and heavy slip on shoes, both with holes at the end, so his toes were sticking out. Michael on the other hand was simply wearing a tattered white t-shirt, with the occasional black pinstripe down it, and smart trousers, which seemed fine even after the crash. The two of them walked further one, rushing into a job at one point until they arrived at a woman crushed by a random part of the plane. It was laid across her shins and legs, but the rest of her body was covered in blood-weak yet conscious. Michael walked over to her, and ready to talk, but Philip seemed to take a lot of attention to her, and grabbed her hand and stared her in the eyes. Michael found it a bit weird at first, but things were soon explained. ‘Annelise!’ he cried, and looked down at the wreckage trailing across her feet. ‘Are you…okay?’ ‘Philip,’ Annelise replied. She was down on her back, her face stained with blood like the rest of her. ‘I’m not in the best of situations.’ Michael stood up, and observed the piece of plane holding her down. ‘You two know each other?’ he asked, slapping a hand down on it. Philip nodded. ‘She’s my sister,’ he explained, leaning his head towards her. ‘Everyone always says we look well alike, they do.’ ‘Which is always unfortunate,’ Annelise muttered, her eyes closing. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you’re keeping in a humorous mood through this,’ Michael said. ‘I’m not a doctor, nor an engineer, so I’m not the best of people in this situation…but we probably need to get it off soon.’ ‘I…’ Annelise muttered but didn’t continue. ‘You two ought to stay here, whilst I find help for other people,’ Michael explained. ‘People I know how to save.’ He winked at them, and quickly rushed off. ‘Trish!’ someone cried. Michael looked around but was unable to see who shouted it. He looked down at the sand in pain from the cut on his back. The blood had stopped flowing and had now hardened, but that seemed to have added the pain.
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Post by champ103 on Sept 5, 2005 14:45:35 GMT -5
volume one-'aftermath'[/b]
He felt lucky for a moment that he had not lost anyone on the flight. Alas, he was boarding the plane by himself-he didn’t know any of the other passengers. And yet he felt guilty that so many were dying-for everyone dead could even be over a hundred sad friends and family. He sighed, and headed back on around, walking towards a propeller that was still stuck out of a small part of the plane, but was not working. In fact, one of the fans had snapped in half, and the other was getting loose. But he heard the desperate rush of a fan not to far away, and new that one was still working. ‘Un uomo qui ha bisogno dell'aiuto immediatamente. Segualo questo senso,’ snapped a man who suddenly approached him. He said it quickly, and Michael wasn’t sure what to say in reply. ‘I don’t speak…’ he said, and realized that he was unsure what language the other man was talking. ‘Italian,’ he then added, realizing the obvious accent in the man’s voice. The man repeated a similar sentence again to Michael, who continued to fail to understand, and shook his head slowly and clearly to him in a slightly patronizing way. He turned around, desperate for more survivors to turn up. All around he could see people on the floor, a few up, and a few rushing around like he was. He stood on his tiptoes to say his next words for no reason, except that it made him feel a lot taller in his state of mind. ‘Anyone here speak Italian?’ he roared at the top of his voice. ‘We need someone who speaks Italian.’ As far as Michael could tell, the Italian man behind him was making no response to his shouting. ‘Please! Anyone?’ he cried, his voice getting desperate. Suddenly, a young woman with messy hair and blood-smeared cheeks approached him, looking tired yet ready. ‘Italian?’ she asked loudly over the sound of the distant propeller. ‘I speak Italian…well, sort-of.’ Michael frowned at that. ‘What do you mean ‘sort-of’?’ he cried, frustrated. The woman shrugged. ‘I have an A-level in it,’ she explained. ‘I just scraped an A.’ She had an English accent. Michael snorted-bloody perfectionists. ‘That’s not ‘sort-of’!’ he yelled. ‘That’s just a straight out ‘yes’!’ The woman frowned and shrugged. ‘So, what?’ she cried. ‘Why were you shouting at the top of your lungs for me?’ Michael pointed to the man behind him with a thumb flung over his shoulder. ‘Him,’ he cried. ‘He doesn’t speak English, or at least that’s what I can make out.’ He flung the woman over as he twisted round back to the man. ‘What were you saying?’ he asked the Italian. Unsure whether it was simply that their attention was in his hands again, or whether Michael had asked him, the man had chosen to repeat. ‘Ci è un uomo che è danneggiato -appena lo segue, giusto?’ he cried. The British woman seemed to think it over for a couple of seconds, but nodded to both Michael and the man. ‘He wants us to go with him-someone’s hurt,’ she explained. She nodded again to the man, and tried to come up with the right words to say. ‘L'approvazione, ci mostra dove l'uomo è,’ she said quickly, but a little unsure of herself. The man nodded, and started to walk down a slope in the beach. The British woman followed, as did Michael as he caught the gist of things. ‘What did you tell him?’ he asked. ‘Just to show us where this guy is,’ the woman explained. ‘I’m Kimia by the way.’ ‘Michael,’ Michael said, his attention a list hasty as they approached the fan he had been hearing. And when he saw the man lying with one foot beneath it, almost like Annelise, he knew that he was not safe. ‘Get him out from underneath there,’ he cried to Kimia, and he hoped that James understood. ‘He’s in danger.’ ‘But he’s trapped!’ Kimia cried, clearly displeased, waving her arms in disapproval with a frown trapped on her face. ‘We can’t just pull him out.’ Michael shook his head and tried to focus. ‘We can try,’ he yelled. ‘However much pain he feels about that will be minimal to what happened if that propeller…’ He stopped talking and focused on the man. He was unconscious, which was always good news, thought Michael with a roll of the eyes. But he wouldn’t feel the pain of being yanked out from there, so as he and Kimia rushed over to him, the Italian man following behind as he a took a hint of what to do. ‘Kimia-you grab one arm, I’ll take the other,’ Micahel cried. ‘Then on the count of three-‘ ‘Pull?’ Kimia interrupted. ‘Got it.’ As said, they rushed over to the man, and both chose an arm. Seeming to want to help, the Italian man came over, and grabbed at the man’s shirt and back. ‘One,’ ‘Uno!’ Kimia translated to the Italian man. ‘Two.’ ‘Duo!’ ‘Three!’ And even before Kimia took the chance to translate, the two of them pulled the man free from the bottom of the metal holding up the propeller. He snapped his eyes open as they did it, and viewed the leg that was just recently trapped beneath the roaring fan behind him. ‘Someone…’ he muttered, but couldn’t manage to speak anything more. ‘Kimia, place him down over here,’ Michael said. Kimia nodded, and didn’t bother to translate to their acquaintance as they slowly let him down onto the sound round another part of the crashed plane, away from the propellers. ‘He’ll be safe here,’ Michael explained, and looked back on where the man had been trapped before. ‘Geez, that thing’s dangerous.’ Kimia nodded, but said nothing. Michael plonked himself down on the sand, and Kimia followed suit. They didn’t see where the Italian man went, but a few seconds later he was out of sight. ‘Is he…that man, will he be okay?’ Kimia asked looking over. Michael took the time to look at his leg, which was covered in blood and a little askew, but seemed all right. ‘I don’t know,’ he explained. ‘I’m not a doctor-‘ ‘Oh,’ Kimia injected. ‘You seemed so professional.’ Michael shrugged and looked out at the sea, which was slowly making its way up the slope of the beach. ‘I’m unemployed,’ he explained. ‘Currently, anyway. I used to work as a writer, I never got into sciences.’ ‘You took everything well,’ Kimia confessed with a smile. Michael smiled back. ‘Thanks,’ Michael replied. ‘Everything looks all right to me, though.’ He turned his view up to the sky now. ‘I’m just hoping one passenger’s good with a first aid kit.’ Kimia grinned. ‘So, you speak fluent Italian then?’ he asked. Kimia nodded, as she lifted a small pile of sand up with her hand and let it trickle through her fingers. ‘Yeah, just something I did in my spare time back at school,’ she explained. ‘I only speak the one language,’ Michael replied. Kimia gave out a little chuckle. ‘Well, if there’s any Russian, any French, any Persian, I can deal with them too,’ she joked. ‘Five languages?’ Michael asked, slightly shocked. ‘Why spend all your time learning how other people speak? I don’t expect there are that many Persians to contact in England.’ Kimia shrugged. ‘You’d be surprised,’ she explained. ‘You can find people of any language in London.’ ‘I guess,’ Michael replied. ‘I’ve never been there though-never stepped a foot in the UK. I’d like to once we get off this island.’ ‘All Americans want to go to Britain,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘It’s not such a nice place.’ ‘Better then America,’ Michael replied, kicking the sand a little. ‘At least you get sun in that place,’ Kimia giggled. Michael laughed too, and picked himself up. ‘If you stay with this guy,’ he explained to her. ‘If you get him talking, keep him talking. For him to stay awake.’ ‘Yeah,’ Kimia assured. ‘And try to get him fresh water from somewhere, if you can,’ Michael replied. ‘They sold it on the plane, there must be some around.’ ‘I’ll try,’ Kimia said, and with that, Michael walked away, back into the destruction of the plane. Michael decided that he knew where he was going-to see if Annelise and Philip were okay. It had only been just minutes before he had seen them last, but it felt like long hours where anything could happen. However, looking around the sandy wreckage, with metal and paper blowing around in the air among other things, he couldn’t see them anywhere. His mind was filled with thoughts, and his head was aching in confusion and pain from the crash, so he decides-and almost unwillingly, fell down onto the sandy beach floor. If anything he needed rest, some time to clear his mind and drift away from the sure that he was stuck in. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to shut his mind off as the propeller roared not too far away. He was still wondering if all these happenings were real, but the memories he could feel in his head were too detailed and perplexed to be a dream or a fantasy. He had been in a plane crash. He had survived. And now he was stuck on some island, pieces of planes and dead bodies all around him. And as he was finally feeling weary, something pounced down onto his chest. He snapped his eyes open, ready to attack, and found himself facing a beautiful, round, concerned face, with brown eyes that looked straight into his. ‘Um…’ he started. ‘Oh,’ the woman said, in a similar accent to Michael’s. ‘I’m sorry-I thought you might have needed help. You collapsed…’ ‘I just need some sleep or something,’ Michael explained. ‘No worries, hey?’ ‘Right, yeah,’ the woman said. There was a long silence that followed her murmurs. ‘Not to sound rude or anything,’ Michael said quietly. ‘But could you get off me?’ The woman suddenly looked a little bit embarrassed, and nodded quickly, letting her short red, flicked hair bounce as she did so. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, and rolled off him onto the sand. ‘I’m just so stupid, and…’ She trailed off and didn’t add to the sentence. ‘My name is Pandora,’ she said, as Michael sat up with a stretch of the arms, as if he had been sleeping for hours. The look of concern and embarrassment on her face was now replaced by a more thoughtful look, as if she was trying to remember something. ‘Netwiss,’ she then said. ‘I’m Pandora Netwiss.’ ‘Nice to meet you,’ Michael lied. After the crash, he didn’t feel like meeting more people-he just felt like shutting himself away and going to sleep. ‘I’m Michael Anthony.’ ‘That’s cool,’ Pandora replied. ‘You’re from the states?’ ‘Yeah,’ Michael replied. ‘I just moved there, I lived around Asia before. I already had the accent.’ ‘Nice,’ Pandora then said, and shuffled closer to him in the sand. ‘I’m from Kansas.’ ‘Never been there,’ Michael replied with a swift yawn. ‘But I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Pandora.’ She giggled, and put an arm around him. He tried to squirm free, but decided it rude. ‘It’s nice to make a friend here,’ she explained. ‘Maybe when we get back we can meet up or something.’ ‘That’d be fun,’ Michael lied, but he too found it nice to find friends after the crash. ‘I’m currently in San Fransisco.’ There was a silence. ‘Where do you think we are?’ Pandora asked. Michael shrugged, with his knees high, yet relaxed, and his elbows resting on them. ‘Who knows?’ he replied. ‘Probably just some stranded beach holiday resort.’ Pandora snorted. ‘It wouldn’t be empty in the middle of summer,’ she explained. ‘And someone would have heard the crash, surely.’ ‘Maybe it’s not summer where we are,’ Michael replied. ‘We could be anywhere in the world.’ Pandora squinted and seemed unsure. ‘Not anywhere,’ she replied. ‘We’d have to be somewhere on course.’ There was more silence. ‘Maybe we should have a look, find some civilization around here,’ Pandora replied. ‘It can’t just be an island, can it?’
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Post by champ103 on Sept 5, 2005 14:48:07 GMT -5
volume one-'aftermath'[/b]
They stood together in the sand-the five of them. Michael was acting as the ringleader at the head of them, as the other five listened to what he had to say. They were all tattered and were stained in blood, but they looked very serious. One of them was Pandora Netwiss, who had suggested the journey out to the jungle to find civilization. She seemed determined to carry out the mission, but one side of her hair had lost its flick through the wind that was blown in their direction by the propeller. She was wearing a vest top, with one strap barely holding together, and a long skirt was draped down her legs and stopping at her ankles. Beside her was Philip Jucker, the young man that Michael had been acquainted with almost immediately after returning to the wreckage of the plane. He was still wearing the same jeans and jacket as earlier, but the thing hood was half dangled over his head now, being blown around recklessly as they stood by the part of the plane that Kimia and Michael had saved another man from earlier that day. He was standing with his feet wide apart, and his eyes focused on Michael, not trailing to look at anything else. The third of the fellow people was a man who had told them he was called Marc Pig, who had his hands behind his back as he stood with a thick skating jumper wrapped round him keeping him warm from the wind. He had harsh stubble around his shin that made Michael just want to shave it as it was so oddly shaped, and he was wearing sunglasses that were a little twisted and broken from the crash. Beside him was another woman, who was wearing a short blue dress and tights with no shoes on her feet. She was named Bella, and had explained that she was working as an airhostess on the plane. She had pigtails in her hair, but both were askew and one was dangling down her face, so she took this opportunity to pull the ribbons from her hair and let it dangle down her neck, although some of it remained flowing down her face. ‘Now, we don’t know what’s in that jungle,’ Michael was saying. Everyone was nodding and shrugging at no matter what he said. ‘So we should stick together-we shouldn’t split up under any sort of conditions, right?’ There were murmurs of ‘yes’ at this. ‘Now, here’s a good opening to the jungle,’ Michael explained. ‘But are you two ladies all right in those dresses and skirts? We don’t know where we’re-‘ ‘Where are we supposed to get anything else from anyway?’ Bella asked, hands on hips. ‘I’m going to assume you two had luggage on that plane?’ Michael asked. Bella didn’t seem convinced. ‘One, the luggage is all trapped inside part of the plane, that could be anywhere: in the jungle, in the sea…’ she started counting on her fingers. ‘And two, I was going back on the next flight, I didn’t bring luggage with me. Nothing but a small handbag with money and water.’ ‘All right, all right,’ Michael said, holding up his hands slightly. ‘Maybe you ought to stay behind-‘ ‘I’m coming,’ Bella snapped loudly. ‘And I’m sure Pandora wants to too.’ She looked over with a death stare at Pandora, who nodded and smiled eagerly. ‘Okay, but…’ ‘Look, it doesn’t matter. We’re not going to be climbing mountains or anything.’ Michael gulped, and looked back at the jungle. ‘I hope you’re right,’ he muttered. After that, they had all turned around to the first few trees, but Michael noticed a man sitting not too far, not blinking, but sitting cross-legged and staring out into the sea. ‘What’s up with that guy?’ he asked. ‘Probably trauma or something, mate,’ Marc said with a shrug. Michael shrugged too, and started to walk over to the man, who didn’t seem to notice, or even blink at all. ‘Dude, are you okay?’ Michael asked. There was no reply, but after a while, the man nodded very slowly, once. ‘I mean, we’re going on a trip into the jungle,’ Michael said, and feeling a little bit annoyed about what he was about to say. ‘Do you want to come with us?’ he asked. Again, no reaction, but a slow shake of the head after a few seconds. ‘Did you…lose someone in the crash?’ Michael asked, trying to see into his behaviour. There was a third pause, followed by a shake of the head. ‘What’s your name?’ was the forth question. There was another pause, and the man looked like he was not going to make a reaction, before opening his mouth finally. ‘Boddy,’ he replied. ‘Sam.’ ‘Sam Boddy?’ Michael asked. ‘That’s an…’ he trailed off, not wanting to say anything more. ‘Well, we’re off now, so, goodbye.’ Sam said nothing more as Michael walked away to join the group. ‘What’s up with him then?’ Marc asked. ‘Beats me,’ Michael replied. ‘I think we’d all just best leave him alone.’ On that note, the five of them started walking towards the trees of the beach’s jungle, leaving behind the dead and the mourning for a while, and the wreckage of their plane. ‘We’d better go quickly,’ Pandora said quietly. ‘Some people are still hurt back on that beach and…’ ‘Good thinking,’ Michael replied as they passed the first of many trees in their path. He turned back to the other four, who were having a different and more casual conversation. ‘Hey guys, pick up the pace a bit, eh?’ Everyone muttered ‘yes’ and jogged towards Michael and Pandora at the lead, and Bella managed a forcefully annoyed sigh. ‘Okay, now duck under this branch here,’ Michael said seconds later as the trees scrambled around in the way and their options are limited. ‘Excuse me Captain Anthony, but we don’t need you telling us everything,’ Marc snorted. ‘Well then piss off back to the beach, where you’re not in the way,’ Michael snapped in return. ‘I’m just giving help, okay, and we don’t need your sort and your stupid comments.’ It seemed to keep Marc quiet after that comment, but he remained the group and showed no signs of turning back within the quiet minutes that followed.
‘Sir, if I could ask you to stop that,’ said a kind females voice from a few rows behind on the plane. Michael had his eyes shut and his head was away as it happened, and even though he heard it, he didn’t turn back to investigate. The past few weeks had been eventful, but Michael was glad with his life now that they were over, now that he was returning home. He didn’t feel like thinking back to memories of the month that had just occurred. It was something he wouldn’t want to look back on again. ‘But-‘ came the reply, and there was a sudden jolt of the plane that snapped open Michael’s eyes, and blanked out what the man a few rows back was saying. As it rumbled for just a second or two, Michael looked around at his fellow passenger’s faces and clutched onto the armrests of the seat tightly. He was sitting by himself on the plane in the front, the closest person just inches away in the other aisle seat of that row. Michael looked at her-she was looking rather relaxed at the sudden twist and jolt of the plane, and she continued reading at a magazine, only stopping to adjust her glasses. ‘Flown before?’ Michael muttered after it had died down. He wondered whether the woman might be confused as to why the strange man next to her was suddenly talking to her, but she seemed to put down her magazine with ease, and reply very happily. ‘Yes, a few times,’ she replied. She patted the leg of the asleep man beside her, who had his head thrown back, snoring loudly. ‘My husbands a bit of a traveller, but he always tends to sleep through the flights anyway.’ She smiled, and began to pick up her magazine again before pausing. ‘How about you?’ she asked. ‘I’ve done it occasionally,’ Michael replied. ‘I’m just returning back to my place in America.’ ‘Oh, been on holiday?’ the woman asked. She too spoke with an American accent. Michael took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said with a smile. ‘It was very pleasant. What are you doing here?’ ‘I’m just being dragged along with my husband for his work,’ she laughed with a role of the eyes. Michael chuckled with not a clue what he was supposed to be laughing at. ‘What does he do?’ he asked. The woman shrugged and gave a laugh. ‘Beats me,’ she giggled. ‘Something to do with housing.’ Michael chuckled again, with more idea what about this time. ‘I’m Erin, by the way,’ she said. ‘Nice to-‘ There was a sudden clatter as the lights flickered on. Erin gazed up and the plane suddenly turned sharply in one direction, throwing her down into the aisle from her seat. Another light flashed above their heads indicating to put on their seatbelts. Michael snapped to do it straight away and took a deep breath, his body feeling shaky and nervous, butterflies deep in his stomach. ‘Are you-‘ he began to cry to Erin as she tried to pull herself back to her seat, but there was a huge jolt of the plane, almost snapped Michael’s seatbelt and flinging him towards the plane toilet door. Erin-on the floor without a seatbelt was flung from his view, and slammed up against the ceiling as the luggage sprayed from the places. One suitcase from above Erin’s husband’s head flung down onto Michael as a siren beeped. The plane was in danger. He closed his eyes as he pushed away the suitcase. There was a huge roar from the front of the plane as the structure began to give way. Michael held his thumbs to his temples biting at his knuckles, taking deep breaths, not looking around for anything. Everyone was screaming all around him if they weren’t knocked out or too shocked for words. Michael didn’t even notice the oxygen mask pop down in front of him until it was almost too late-he opened his eyes and saw it straight away. He pulled at it quickly and arranged it around his mouth, and felt a little bit relaxed until he saw Erin scrambled on the floor, face looking straight in his direction in a pile of blood, her eyes closed. The tension was huge as the plane siren beeped again and again, as the lights flickered on and off, as the passengers screamed and screamed, as he felt the plane gliding towards the ground, tumbling and twisting in the sky. And then something hit his head and he felt nothing, and saw nothing as everything faded away.
‘Michael?’ came the voice of Philip that awoke him from his thoughts. ‘Oh, hey,’ Michael replied. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking…’ ‘Thinking?’ Philip asked. ‘’Bout what?’ Michael shrugged and gave a yawn. ‘Nothing in particular,’ he muttered. ‘I’m just a little tired.’ Philip smiled. ‘Well, I’m sure we can rest when we find civilization,’ he suggested. Michael shook his head. ‘You mean if we find civilization,’ he corrected. ‘He means when,’ Pandora butted in from behind them. ‘There’ll be something, someone…it won’t just be jungle.’ ‘Well whatever it is,’ stifled Marc,’ it better turn up soon. My legs are aching.’ ‘Why, never taken a walk before, Piggy?’ Michael asked angrily. ‘Never moved those podgy legs for-‘ ‘Shut up, or I’ll move those podgy legs and shove them up your-‘ ‘Everyone, calm the potato down,’ Bella said angrily, holding her hands out for effect. ‘We may all hate each other, and we may all be horrible people, but at the moment we’re wading around an immense jungle, and the only thing we have is each other. We all need to cooperate, right?’ Everyone agreed, still looking slightly sombre and sully. The walk continued, everyone pushing through leaves and trees just to see a reasonably clear path ahead. Everyone was huddled together as they passed through, not spread out as before, for the sun was starting to set beneath the relaxed sea, and the moon was starting to rise over their heads. ‘We’ve been walking for hours,’ Marc said truthfully. ‘Can we take a stop or something. My throats as dry as Gandhi’s flip flop.’ ‘Will you stop complaining?’ Michael cried. ‘I gave you your chance to bail out, so just give it a rest!’ There was a feminine sigh from behind him, which Michael wouldn’t have expected from Marc. ‘But he’s right, Mike,’ followed the voice of Pandora, and the voice of the sigh, which was no evidently hers, not Marc’s. ‘We don’t have time to stop,’ Michael insisted. ‘We want to get back for nightfall.’ ‘But it is nightfall!’ Pandora cried. ‘Look around, look up! The sky is dark and the jungle is going to get harder to trek through. Either we set up camp here for the night, or we start heading right back to the beach.’ Pandora turned to Marc, Bella and Philip. ‘Are you with me?’ Everyone agreed, and Michael rolled his eyes and clenched his fists as they walked on for a few more moments to find somewhere to stop. Minutes alter, he found himself sitting around a tiny campfire with glum people all staring into deep space nine. To him it seemed that they were low on supplies-no one had brought anything with them except for a small bag each, and as he clawed into his, he found nothing except for a half empty bottle of water and matchsticks, which he brought for fire, not for smoking. Among them were wrappers from crisps or other things, and deep within it, he found an unused condom, which he raised his eyebrows to before placing it back in. ‘Don’t remember putting that in,’ he muttered to himself, before seeing that someone was watching him. ‘It’s fine,’ Pandora explained with a giggle. ‘Really. You don’t have to try to prove anything-‘ ‘I wasn’t,’ Michael assured. ‘I didn’t even realize you were there. I was talking to myself, that’s all.’ ‘Well, don’t try to prove anything to yourself either,’ Pandora joked, and slipped herself down from a log to beside where Michael was sat, and stared at her feet during the long pause afterwards. Finally, she watched as Michael gave a sigh. ‘It’s not been the best of days, has it?’ he asked. Pandora shrugged. ‘I guess not,’ she replied. ‘But it’s been exciting. And I’ve met lots of people…’ ‘But we’re stuck on a bloody desert island!’ Michael cried. ‘What’s the positive side to that?’ ‘The positive side to that is that this isn’t a bloody desert island!’ Pandora shrieked, although the other three were too indulged in looking down and participating in a conversation of their own. ‘I bet we could just pass that tree and find a hotel or something.’ Michael stood up, pushing against the logs behind him to reach his feet. ‘Oh yeah?’ he asked angrily. ‘Show me then, Miss Optimist.’ ‘It’s not optimism,’ Pandora insisted. ‘It’s just thinking straight.’ ‘It’s just being delusional,’ Michael spat, before Pandora grabbed his wrist, and started dragging him enthusiastically towards the trees and bushes behind them. Bella raised her head. ‘Be right back,’ Pandora cried. ‘Toilet!’ she quickly added as they disappeared into the shadows. There was a pause with the other three. ‘Something’s going on between those two,’ Philip finally piped up. No one replied, so he turned to them. ‘Do you think something’s going on between them?’ Marc shrugged. ‘There’s some tension,’ he murmured. ‘Oh, shut the hell up, you two,’ Bella said with a roll of the eyes. Through several bushes and trees, and as said, turned round a corner, Michael and Pandora faced no hotel, no sign of people, but more trees, lanky and leaning over them. ‘So they might not be just around the corner,’ Pandora said with a shrug. ‘But I can assure you we’ll find one on this island. When tomorrow comes-‘ ‘You don’t need to prove anything to me, Pandora,’ Michael muttered with a smile. ‘Now let’s go back and join the others. I thought we’d ended this fruitless mission for the evening.’ Pandora nodded and grinned, but said nothing, and the two turned round, only for Pandora to suddenly tumble to the ground with a little wail. Michael instantly leaned down and offered a hanf to try and help her up. She quickly clutched to his hand and didn’t let go to it even after she was fully up. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t know what it-‘ ‘Please let go,’ Michael muttered. Pandora looked down and turned red with embarrassment again. ‘Oh, salsa, sorry,’ she said, and quickly pulled her hands away from his and tucked them down her side. Michael smiled. ‘So, why’d you fall anyway?’ he asked. Pandora shrugged. ‘Tripped over a rock or something,’ she murmured and looked down. Michael watched as she looked down and observed what she had fallen over, and then raised an eyebrow as she frowned and leaned down to pick it up. In the darkness, he couldn’t see what it was from where he was standing, but it was clear in front of his eyes as Pandora lifted it up with a slightly confused grin plastered on her face. ‘A suitcase?’ Michael asked as he looked at it carefully. He looked around. ‘This must be where the suitcases crashed.’ He paused, and put a hand on Pandora’s shoulders. ‘Go fetch the others,’ he murmured. ‘We have some collecting to do.’
- Within minutes, the five of them were searching around for rubble and bags beneath the trees surrounding them. A small pile of found suitcases was lying near the path that led back to their temporary campsite, and it was slowly building up as more were found. The five were each spread out, but in distance to see and talk to each other, as they felt below at their feet, and scraped their fingers along the grassy floor in search. Michael was standing around the mist and fog of the night as he reached down into the shadows, hoping his hand would hit something. Unlike the other four, he had been unsuccessful in finding any luggage that was aboard the plane. He felt useless. He felt stupid. And he felt somewhat relaxed until his fingers touched something-a piece of paper, Michael was sure. He scooped it up in one hand, and straightened it out to get a better look. And he gasped at what he saw. He was looking down at his very own face, printed quickly and roughly on the piece of paper before him. He’d seen it before-he’d had it shown to him many a time, but he’d forgotten about it, and memories were flooding through his head as he stared at himself, and the large word in blank ink typed beneath it. Missing.
Michael was running for his life-wearing trainers he’d found tossed on the floor, he carried himself as far as his legs would as he stumbled around on a stonet. He hadn’t run like that for ages-weeks, months, years, however long it was, his recollection of time had been harsh and primary. He continued running, looking out ahead at the bland desert-like landscape ahead of him. He didn’t know where he was running to but ahead was the only way possible. He knew he wasn’t being followed anymore, and he knew he was probably safe. But he would be safer if he ran-he had money in the small bag slung around his shoulder-he could hear the money jingling in it. He’d have enough to catch a one-way flight back home, surely. He had had a lot before the trauma. He would have enough now. Running was the only thing to do. Unlike the poster said, he wasn’t missing anymore. He was free.
Michael folded it up as he tried to rid of the thoughts. If he hadn’t of ran, and then he wouldn’t be on the island. He would have caught a later flight, and would have been home with his family, back in America. But it was his instinct-his desperation for safety that had ended up making him missing for a second time. ‘Missing?’ said a voice behind him, and Michael turned back to see Philip looking at the paper and raising an eyebrow. ‘Mate, what’s that?’ ‘It’s just a poster,’ Michael explained. Philip nodded his head. ‘Clearly,’ he added. He took a step closer to Michael, as if to get a better look. ‘But what IS it? Why were you missing?’ ‘It’s just something I’d rather not talk about,’ Michael explained. ‘Something that’s behind me now. I’d feel more comfortable not talking about it…if that’s okay?’ Philip seemed understanding as he nodded, but he clenched his fists and took a long deep breath as if restraining himself from clawing down Michael’s face. ‘Yeah, fine,’ he said happily with a smile. ‘Thanks,’ Michael said with a smile in return, but it turned to a frown afterwards. ‘And please, don’t mention it to anyone. It’s just…’ ‘You’d rather no one knew, fine, mate,’ Philip replied, his fists now open, his hands signalling that Michael need say nothing more. ‘But hey, I guess we’re all missing now, hey?’ ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ Michael replied. ‘Every single one of us.’ And they both spoke the truth-all of them were lost on the island. But all of them had secrets. And all of them were missing
end of volume one[/b]
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Post by Dante on Sept 5, 2005 15:01:45 GMT -5
This is neat and mysterious, Dupin. I like it. I haven't seen any of Lost - it requires more devotion than I'm prepared to put in - so I don't really have any idea what to expect (except all the stuff which people have been talking about).
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Antenora
Detriment Deleter
Fiendish Philologist
Put down that harpoon gun, in the name of these wonderful birds!
Posts: 15,891
Likes: 113
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Post by Antenora on Sept 5, 2005 15:02:52 GMT -5
My parents are fans of Lost, although I've never seen it. They say there's a polar bear involved at some point. Very good story so far, Dupin. I look forward to more of this as well as updates to Factory.
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Post by xangelkimzx on Sept 5, 2005 15:13:50 GMT -5
Oh, wow! Truly amazing, as always, George. I bet you would've been better for the real Lost anyway.
Lovely. Really, really good. I also loved the dictionary extract at the beginning, mind. It was very convenient.
;D
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Post by A. the Returned on Sept 6, 2005 6:07:56 GMT -5
Very good, I like Lost. The first series is finished here now though. I'm Peej's sister. Add that to the list. In Factory I'm his Mother, yzay I gave birth to myself. Heh, Anyway, cool story.
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Post by Celinra on Sept 6, 2005 6:09:37 GMT -5
Very neat so far, although I'm not very familiar with the show.
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Post by PJ on Sept 6, 2005 7:34:37 GMT -5
It's cool. Damn you for making it so long, though. I should be doing homework. *grumble* It's cool, though. Just post in smaller increments, next time.
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Post by Akbar Le Grey on Sept 6, 2005 10:19:30 GMT -5
Very mysterious. I like it.
We don't get Lost in Pakistan, though I saw an ad for it in London. And a bit of an episode in Rome, though it was in Italian.
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Post by champ103 on Sept 6, 2005 10:30:08 GMT -5
Thanks for the great comments everyone! Post any theories or whatnot here too, I'd like to see what people think what'll happen and about the survivor's secret pasts and whatnot.
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Post by Charles Vane on Sept 6, 2005 17:50:57 GMT -5
I saw this and freaked but now my mom is calling me for dinner. I tried to catch you online earlier to tell you what a great idea this was and how you rocked but I couldn't find you.
Anyway, yay. I love Lost. Cel if you watched with me on Wednesdays you'd know what was going on.
And OMFG, J is like Sawyer. Well.. with the name thing atleast. If the people are like characters in the show then I'll guess the outcome once I've read it but you've got 17 people so it seems unlikely that all of them are based on the real characters unless you've got a french woman and the others. Though PJ and Annelise seem Shannon and Boone-y.
Dupin, how much of season one have have you seen?
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Post by idiotj on Sept 6, 2005 18:50:28 GMT -5
Dupin, thou never ceases to amaze me.
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Post by Charles Vane on Sept 6, 2005 18:53:39 GMT -5
Awesome.
So I'm guessing you based some people similar to the characters but they're not exactly the same, a few of the pasts seem different atleast.
It looks like PJ and Annelise are Boone and Shannon, except Kimia is the one speaking a foreign language which works with her real personality, and mine seems pretty in character too. Very actually, I like how you described my hair, it seems like you paid close attention to everyone. Anyway I'm Kate, Michael is like Jacks character, Marc seems like Sawyer which makes me think you don't like Sawyer which is sad because he rocks and Sam is like Locke.
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Post by s on Sept 6, 2005 19:20:11 GMT -5
This is excellent. Really, I can't believe I put off reading it for a day. Your writing really is very good.
Oh, and I've never seen Lost.
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