Lost Horizon

[kopout]

Cath-Quin Jones

"Pterodactyls! Sounds like someone has a bump on their head." giggles Quinny from above. "I'm afraid those are quite extinct, Mister Arronson"

"Ok, then what attacked the balloon? What ever it was you should be careful, It is quite dangerous."

[AetherFox]

Croc Neidr

"Yeah, at like, a thousand feet. Those things are way too big to fit in the foliage anyway. Hold on, does anyone have binoculars?"

[gardenphilosoph]

The trees are difficult to climb. Their bark is smooth without many knots or handholds, and much of it is overgrown with dew-slicked moss and dripping vines, but Quinny manages to scale up ten feet or so. The canopy is about forty feet up, much to high to possibly climb without specialized equipment. Still, the view from up here grants a bit more visibility than from the ground.

It is jungle. Endless green, twisting branch after branch after branch...wait...there's a small clearing up ahead, where the brightly coloured flowers are. It's not much...probably formed when a tree fell.

[kopout]

"What do you see up there?"

[Glyphic]

Cath-quin Jones

"No need for those. There's not much to see up here" Quinny calls, as she makes her descent, "There's a small patch or clear up ahead. I don't see any remains of that other balloon."

Once she has her feet back on the ground, she tries to coax one of the smaller lizards into her hands, "We should probably make ourselves visible. If they're still up there flying around.. Hm. They probably don't have space for us. And that one there isn't salvageable."

"We might be here awhile.."

[The_JJ]

Maxwell wipes his hands. Damn. he too makes the sign of the cross. Any of the others in need of help? No. He sighs, and pours some water onto his bloodstained hands. Alright, plans? Do we advance? Retreat? Hold our ground?

[AetherFox]

Croc Neidr

Croc is a little shaken up by the news that they're stuck.
"I'd say stay here and wait to be found... But that's really not likely."

[drum-n-bass]

Oh, yeah. Silly me. I probably shouldn't do that. Octavius says regaining his sense of mind.
Hmmm....What would an experienced person do?....... he says thinking out loud while tapping his chin. Maybe look for a fire or make one?

[Glyphic]

Cath-Quin Jones

"Let's salvage what we can from our wreck.. pay our homages to the dead, and try and find some sorta shelter. Maybe we can make a lean-to or something in that clearing up ahead. It'll be like camping."

Feeling a little awkward, she looks over the 'natives', "Maybe someone could.. ask them if they know where we are?"

Spoiler

Show

Directed @ below. I mean the two Kenyans that are with us.

[drum-n-bass]

Do we even know if natives are here? If there are natives, I would go, but I would like someone to come with me. he says looking at trees now.

Spoiler

Show

Ohhehe, sorry, my bad.

[AetherFox]

Croc Neidr

"Um, I think she means the natives that were in the balloon with us...
Do any of us even speak their language? I know I don't."

[DJDeMiko]

ooc - sorry for the delay guys.

Chance stands up and shakes his head clear. He places his right leg on a stone almost 1 foot high, clearly displaying his well muscled chest through his torn shirt.

He smiles broadly surveying the forest, not even noticing the injured and says "No fear boys, i bet we will be out of here in a matter of hours."

[DJDeMiko]

Croc Neidr

Croc is a little shaken up by the news that they're stuck.
"I'd say stay here and wait to be found... But that's really not likely."

"Don't be silly," Chance says, "I'm sure if we just pick a direction and follow it, we will come out of here in no time or at least find a village or native to point us in the right direction. And don't worry, if any of them are hostile I'll just give em a little of the ole one two one two." He air boxes for a moment to pantomime.



ooc - in terms of equipment I'm making a slight change, chance has no sword at the moment, it wouldn't make sense for him to be carrying one for this, but he has his pistol and a machete.

[The_JJ]

Uh. I'll just uh... I've got to... I'll be over there. Call if you need me. Maxwell wandered off a short ways, out of sight, and then sat with his back against a tree, and buiried his head in his hands.

[AetherFox]

"Don't be silly," Chance says, "I'm sure if we just pick a direction and follow it, we will come out of here in no time or at least find a village or native to point us in the right direction. And don't worry, if any of them are hostile I'll just give em a little of the ole one two one two." He air boxes for a moment to pantomime.

"That is... Not the best way to go about this. How will we know if we're going in the right direction? What if the jungle streches for hundreds of miles? No, unless we want to get more lost, we should stay here. If someone had a radio, then we'd be able to call for help. Octavius was right. We need to get a fire going."

Croc looks at his professor strangly, but assumes it's best to let him do what he's going to.

[gardenphilosoph]

The expedition members have mostly recovered from the crash, but are in disarray. Their navigation equipment, the pieces that haven't broken, are useless in such dense jungle, and the trees are too high to scale.

OOC: Alright guys, what's your plan?

[The_JJ]

Maxwell takes a deep breath and wanders into the camp. Okay, well I'm going to put myself on burial duty. Somebody should try and recover what they can from the wreck. A fire would be good, and then maybe a plan.

[wadledo]

"Tally ho, and skip in the dew!"
*hic*
Professor Featherdale, until now unnoticed among the wreckage, emerges, roaring drunk and possibly smashed as well.

[The_JJ]

Maxwell's scorn is barely kept in check by that little niggling bit of shameful envy inside of him. Part of him is upset because the man didn't care about the dead, and instead got smashing drunk. The rest of him, reluctantly, admits that he'd do no different if he had no job to do, nor would any of his dead friends. Professor? Could you please... he winces do your best to talk to those other survivors?

[AetherFox]

Croc Neidr

"The broken basket will be good for firewood. Let's see if there's still gas in the tank."

Croc shifts uncomfortably, dreading what he has to say,
"The pilot... and the others... they were brave men... but can we afford to bury them? We don't know what sort of preditiors live here, and if they smell blood..."

[The_JJ]

Croc, we bury them if we can. If it comes to predators, that's all the more reason to get these in the ground. We've got guns, don't we. Look... I'm going to dig until a better option presents itself.

[AetherFox]

Croc Neidr

"Your right. I just thought... Never mind. I'll help."

[The_JJ]

... thank you.

[wadledo]

"Ah, yes."
Walking up close enough so the alcohol in his breath is evident to Maxwell, the Prof. pokes him in the chest.
"You know, I've always liked you.
Big brain, an' all.
Or maybe it was hated."
Featherdale pokes him several more times.
"No, it was the other one.
The not un-un-un-pleasant one."
Stepping away with surprising fluidity for a man his age, the Prof. vaults onto a nearby bit of wreckage, balancing procariously on his perch.
"Now, *hic* we must do what we must.
We must gather our supplies, mend our wounds, and head out, into this, this, where-ever it is."
Leaning backwards slightly, Featherdale asks his porter "Where are we going again?"

[DJDeMiko]

Chance

"Nonsence lad, I didn't win the 19** super bowl by waiting for help to arrive, the team reached out and took victory by the throat and said 'hey you, give it here.'"

[Glyphic]

Cath-Quin Jones

As she pokes through the rubble of their wreck, she queries, "Did we even bring a shovel with us; the earth isn't going to yield very easily without one. It'd stink, but we could get two birds with one stone, by building a funeral pyre."

Shying away from her Professor, she nicks her lighter, and sets the flame to a cigarette. She takes a meditaive drag, before continuing, "It doesn't really feel safe here. We should find somewhere else to sleep, before the sun sets.

She studies Chance for a long minute, saying nothing, letting the scent of tobacco waft into the air.

[JettWilderbeast]

James 'Quinn' Harley-Quinn
Quinn wanders round near the site taking the occasional photo of a pretty flower, but he doesn't want to waste his film and walking back towards the others, at the young Cath-Quin's statement Quinn replies back to her; A funeral pyre? Blimey, I don't about you guys but the smell of burning flesh makes me feel sick! That and every animal under the sun will smell that! No I say we try and bury them. Its sad, but we have to honor them right?

[Blockhead]

Sergeant Wallace Smith

Alright, plans? Do we advance? Retreat? Hold our ground?

"Retreat? I won't hear of such balderdash! We'll be fine old boy, don't you worry!" Said Wallace.

"Did we even bring a shovel with us; the earth isn't going to yield very easily without one."

Wallace takes off the entrenching tool from his backpack. "It is the respectful thing to do to bury them. I shall help dig the graves." He said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Wallace then began shovelling individual graves for each and everyone of their dead friends.

[Silverkiss]

Marcus Smith

Marcus stands, absent-minded, looking at the jungle around and at the others. He doesn't move to help bury the dead ones. He thinks it is pointless. Wasting precious energy when in an unknow environment just to bury someone ? No, thanks.

Without talking to anyone, but observing everyone, Marcus stays in the shade of a large tree, thinking.

[AetherFox]

"Nonsence lad, I didn't win the 19** super bowl by waiting for help to arrive, the team reached out and took victory by the throat and said 'hey you, give it here.'"

"No, no. You're not leaving. I don't care how many sports awards you've won, because neither will a wild predator. This jungle all looks the same. I know you think you can find your way out if you just keep moving; so do I. But we'd just end up lost or worse. Probably worse."