SOMETHING IN THE JUNGLE

[Dorian St. Pierre]

DAY ONE - NIGHT - CASTAWAYS GATHER AROUND THE FIRE

Although the crash had occurred hours before, the fuselage continued to smolder in crimson flame, blanketing the nearby area in thick smoke and illuminating the far end of the shoreline. The only light source in the otherwise velvety black darkness was a fairly large bonfire on the other side of the beach, about two hundred yards away from the fuselage. Fragments of the plane were scattered haphazardly across the shoreline, illuminated eerily by the blaze of the fire. The shouts, screams, and roars of the jet’s remaining turbine engine had died away completely, giving way to a ghostly silence. The rumble of the waves against the jagged rocks offshore created a kind of soothing, rhythmic melody and the foliage along the tree line rustled softly in the cool breeze.

Dorian St. Pierre sat with his back against a large fragment of what used to be the blade of the other turbine engine, the casing of which sat shattered not far away from the fuselage. A cigarette in his hand, Dorian looked up at the dark sky and thought how odd it was to be able to actually see the stars. He chuckled, reminding himself that on a clear night, back in London, you were lucky to make out the occasional constellation. But here, in the near complete darkness, hundreds of tiny lights and constellations littered the sky. It was ironic; something so beautiful amidst a scene of such abject despair.

Dorian took the unlit cigarette from his mouth and took a rusty looking silver lighter from his pocket. With a small click of the thumbwheel, a tiny flame erupted from inside the Zippo, momentarily silhouetting Dorian’s darkened face. St. Pierre brought the tip of the cigarette to the light and allowed it to catch flame. He sat there for a moment, looking down at the smoking cigarette; he hadn’t touched one in nearly four years. In fact, he had given up smoking after Juliann had been killed; she had always hated the way Dorian would sit on that silly park bench just outside their flat, puffing on the damn thing. But now, that seemed like a very long time ago. St. Pierre brought the small, white rod to his mouth, inhaled a long puff of smoke, and then gently exhaled. “Damn.” Dorian whispered aloud, his eyes watering from the unfamiliar sting of cigarette smoke.

He gazed into the darkness and could make out the silhouettes of what looked to be a dozen people gathered around the bonfire, their outlines visible against the glow of the smoldering flames. He couldn’t make out what anyone was saying; to be fair, he was at least a hundred yards away and they were only speaking in hoarse whispers. He thought about getting up and joining them, but then thought better of it and took another long puff of cigarette. He was probably better off alone, anyway.

... words: 483
... oufit: click
... tag: none yet
... notes: anyone is welcome to jump in!

[mirabella]

Erika was sitting along with everyone else around the bonfire. She didn't sit too close, because she could still smell the smoke of the fire that had surrounded her after the crash. She knew it was there to keep them warm, but Erika was terrified that the flames would envelope her once more. She knew it was an irrational feeling, but she just couldn't shake away her feelings. She shivered in the night. She was scared, hungry and just downright terrified of everything - the known and the unknown.

Erika didn't want to stay still any longer. She wanted to concentrate on something else for a while. She didn't want to think about the horrifying crash. She didn't want to relive the horror and the pain any more than she already had today. She had woken up again hours later, her injuries cleaned up by the islands doctor. She had thanked him, and though he had told her to lie there, Erika did not listen. She had bolted there as fast as her limping legs could go.

She looked up to see a young man sitting by himself. To get away from the smoke from the bonfire, Erika got up and made her way toward him. She didn't even think for one moment about him wanting to be alone. She just wanted to get away from that damn bonfire. She remembered having had seen him running around during the fire. Erika wasn't sure though. Everything had been foggy and disorienting for anything to really register in her brain. Erika had felt guilty after she had woken up. She should have been there to help. But then again, it's not like she had a choice in the matter.

Erika had been slow in making her way toward the man, but finally she reached him. He hadn't noticed her. He was messing around with a lighter. She caught her breath when the flame appeared. She couldn't help herself. It would be a while before she was comfortable with fire. She actually wondered if that was true, or if she would spend the rest of her life scared of the dancing flames.

"Might want to be careful with that," she chuckled nervously. She saw the cigarette. She hated cigarettes. She didn't understand smokers. She never saw the draw that it had on them. Did they not care about the diseases that it caused? Erika always made a point to tell people about it. She was a nurse. She couldn't help herself. "Couldn't stand the smoke," she went on nervously. "So I came here."

[Dorian St. Pierre]

Dorian’s head continued to throb painfully, like hot needles drilling into his skull. In fact, the pain was making it difficult to really take in much of anything that was going on around him. He suspected that he might have a concussion; after all, Dorian had sustained a deep gash just above his eye after impact. He remembered being thrown out of his chair and vaguely remembered the incredible pain of his head colliding with something hard and metallic. The gash had bled for most of the afternoon until he was able to staunch it properly with a large piece of cloth. In the morning, he would have the doctor --- or rather the guy who fancied himself a doctor – take a look at it. For now, he was determined not to fall asleep, just in case his suspicions about the concussion proved to be correct.

He brought his free hand up to his temple to massage his forehead, hoping feebly that it would dull the pain. He brought his other hand, the hand holding the cigarette, up to his mouth and began to slowly inhale. Then a voice in his head, a sweet flirtatious voice that was so familiar to him, reminding him that cigarettes used to give him headaches, too. “You better put out that light, Dory.” The girl’s voice said, “You know it makes you sick…” He exhaled quickly and choked a few times. He blinked, turned, and noticed a blond haired girl approaching him, her face masked in shadows. "Might want to be careful with that," she chuckled nervously.

Dorian brought the cigarette to his mouth again, taking another drag. The warm smoke filled his throat and lungs, sending a nicotine rush through his body. He coughed a few times, his head pounding painfully. What he wouldn't give for an Advil. "Couldn't stand the smoke," she went on nervously. "So I came here."

Dorian laughed, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Perhaps I misunderstood..." He began. "You couldn't stand being so close to the campfire, so you fancied a chat with a smoker?" Dorian chucked, throwing his head back to gaze at the stars. Millions of tiny flecks of light spread out as far as the eye could see. The sky truly was magnificent. The moon glowed softly on the far left side, illuminating the waves rolling over rocks offshore. He could count all the constellations he had learned as child—Orion, Cassiopeia, Polaris. Dorian consciously repressed a grin; he hadn't even thought about his grandfather for years. It felt like another life time ago, lying in the fields outside his grandparent’s Manchester home, looking up at the stars and learning their stories. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

... words: 452
... oufit: click
... tag: Erika
... notes: haha the beginning of the love hate relationship! and strap in ... it's gonna be interesting!

[/size]

[mirabella]

She cringed when he become to cough. Really, what was it with smokers? Why would they willingly harm their bodies so willingly? Why would they inflict diseases on themselves when others would be ecstatic with a healthy body? Erika was studying to be a nurse, and she's read over many of the diseases and had even read cases that pertained to real people... And none of them want to be sick. They try everything to rid themselves of disease. Then there were smokers, who turned their lungs black as charcoal and cause cancer. Why didn't they care? Why did they have to puff puff away like it was no ones business? And it was. Second hand smoking was just as bad. It was murder. It was murder and smokers got away with it when Erika didn't think they should. Smokers should go to jail just like other murderers and rapists and ever other criminal out there. Smokers were hurting others and they did not care. It infiurated Erika. It was probably one major reason that Erika's bad side would show.

"I didn't know you were out here ending what the crash failed to," Erika snapped. The sweet girl was gone.

She would regret that statement later. Right now she was too upset to think over what she had just said. All she could think was how much she disliked the man sitting there with not a care in the world. Everyone back there were trying to figure out what to do, and he was sitting here, doing not a thing. Erika opened her mouth to say more, but then decided it wasn't worth it. No smoker would ever listen to reason. They were a stubborn bunch. They "needed" it. Erika always scoffed at that idea. It was all in their mind. Every human habit was. So instead of trying to get him to stop, Erika moved away from the line of smoke. She didn't need that garbage going into her lungs.

She always thought that smokers only saw the negative in their lives. Erika knew there was beauty. She could usually capture it in her art. To see it on paper was truly magnificent. She couldn't believe that someone would willingly throw that away. She shook her head sadly. Then, the young man before her made a statement that had her staring at him. She looked up at the stars and what she saw there put a smile on her face. It truly was beautiful. "It's gorgeous," she whispered. For a moment completely forgetting where she was and who she was talking to.

... words: 444
... oufit:
... tag: Dorian
... notes: I'm intrigued! I can tell it's a start of a wonderful relationship. Ha!

[Dorian St. Pierre]

"It's gorgeous," she whispered. Dorian brought his cigarette up to his lips and inhaled slowly. A part of him always hated smoking. It was crude and made him cringe, slightly. But if there was ever a time for a cigarette today was the day. He looked down the beach, towards the campfire, and still couldn't believe this had happened. Despite the several years of training that he had undergone in order to become an MI-5 operative, the emotion and horror of this situation still managed strike him at his core. Perhaps it was the fact that many of the dead were no older than nineteen years old. To die so young...

“I couldn’t find any vodka or tequila, so these will have to do” He said, referring to the cigarettes he was smoking. His voice was gruff, devoid of it's usual British charm. In truth, what he wanted was a Scotch. But, a damn cigarette would have to do in a pinch.

“Listen, I don’t mean to sound rude but…” Dorian stopped talking, mid-sentence. The trees behind him began to rustle loudly and eerily. He had turned his head to the tree line just as he heard it, a terrifying, earsplitting roar. Now standing and facing the tree line, Dorian could see birds taking flight, abandoning their perches and flying up into the sky. He turned to look at the blond girl, as if to see if somebody else had heard the sound, too, but even as he began to turn his head another scream filled his ears. It was a high pitched, blood curdling shriek of terror. “Oh my god.”

If one thing was certain, it was that someone was definitely in serious danger. Dorian turned to look at the blond girl standing beside him, whose delicate skin had gone pale with fear. “What the heck was that?” She asked, hesitantly. Shaking his head, Dorian took the cigarette out of his mouth and turned back towards the tree line, peering ahead into the velvety darkness of the bamboo forest. The blood curdling scream still hung on the air, like a ghostly echo. As the shriek faded into an eerie silence, Dorian turned back towards the girl and whispered, “I haven’t a bloody idea”. Then, another terrifying roar ripped through the air, causing both of them to turn sharply and look down the shoreline, towards the far side of the beach. A moment later, another shriek of absolute terror erupted from within the bamboo forest, causing both of them to jump. “Bloody hell” Dorian gasped.

Before the girl could say anything, Dorian took off running towards the jungle, peering into the darkness by the light of the moon. He tossed his cigarette over his shoulder and he could faintly hear it sizzle in the warm sand. He got as far as the first few bamboo trees, and then stopped, peering into the shadows. It was almost impossible to see much of anything. He took the rusty silver Zippo from his pocket, ignited the tip, and used the flame to help illuminate the forest in front of him. It wasn’t much help, but it was something. Dorian grimaced and put his hand to his head, which was still throbbing painfully. “What I wouldn’t do for a flashlight and a bottle of aspirin…” he thought to himself.

... words: 555
... oufit: click
... tag: Erika
... notes: haha now the fun begins!

[mirabella]

“I couldn’t find any vodka or tequila, so these will have to do” Erika sighed at that. She could stand alcohol either. She just never took to them, they all tasted horrible. It was also something that involved in hurting others. It was not something that she would often talk about - not like cigarettes. Erika thought that drinking was just a way to drink away people's problems. That was mostly the reason people drank... Well, that was what Erika had noticed from the people around her. She wasn't going to bother with words. It would only cause him to mock her.

She had been about to say something else when he did, but then he was interrupted by the rustle of trees and a loud roar. Erika gasped, and insticintivly drew closer to Dorian. Not to close, but close enough that she could feel his presence. She was about to speak up when an ear splitting scream rang through the forest. She looked toward the place that the screaming was coming from. It was dark and creepy place and Erika didn't want to set one foot inside.

The screams kept coming and Erika was getting even more terrified by the minute. She wanted to go back to the bonfire. But she also didn't want to ignore the screams of the person inside. It sounded like they were in trouble. Erika was studying to be a nurse, and she couldn't ignore screams of help. She turned to Dorian to ask what they should do, but he had already ran toward the sound. Erika cursed under her breath. She wasn't going to let him go in by himself. It wasn't that he couldn't take care of himself, but Erika wasn't one to sit around when someone was in danger. It had killed her that she couldn't do anything for the people after the crash. She had even felt guilty for having lost conscious. She would help out as much as she could this time around.

As she came to a bunch of trees, Erika caught a sight of Dorian. She ran toward him. She wanted to ask for him to wait for her, but Erika didn't want to ask anything of Dorian. She didn't want to look like she couldn't handle herself. Erika never liked asking people for anything, especially help. A second later, she was able to catch up to him standing there with a lighter. He had ignited it in hope for some light. Maybe him smoking would be helpful in this situation.

Another scream echoed from deep inside. Erika looked at Dorian, fear clearly etched on her face, but there was also resolve. She wanted to help. "Come on, we need to go in there," she whispered to him. She didn't have anything to light up her way. Erika wasn't scared of the dark, but this darkness was not something she wanted to venture in alone.