Sportzman eyes the model, he recognized her face. Did they have an encounter in his drunken fit before the crash or was she simply one of the many models he had been involved in photo shoots with. He then agrees with tricky, the house seems to be the best option, the injury he had sustained had increased his appetite. He fingers his pocket knife, something felt amiss, there was still no sign of the others. Was this an accident in the first place?
Darren decides a brief survey is in order. He hobbles to get a better look around the disappearing beach coast. If he sees anyone, he calls out and waves his hands. If he doesn't, he finds a sturdy piece of driftwood and decides to investigate the unidentified object in the water - but from the shoreline.
(24-09-2009 03:31 AM)rojerton Wrote: [ -> ]Too bad you're a model though. Anorexic types don't fare so well soaking wet with ruined hair and makeup. A swimsuit model however.... different story.
Umm... please note I didn't say what kind of model I am. Perhaps I'm a foot model or a hand model. I also object to being referred to as "the model" in the story. I prefer "the goddess" or "the gorgeous blond", etc...
(I'm also tempted to comment about how sportzman's character suffers from disillusionment but I think that's obvious.)
Alison looks around for a stick or something to use in case of opposition as she walks with the others towards the house . Let's face it, they all seem a bit... odd and she doesn't trust anyone.
Who's been controlling me!???
Anyways, MSJ sits in the corner deep in thought...probably preparing my most insane move yet!
What corner are you possibly sitting in? You're walking down a hallway.
The ferocity of the storm had reached epic proportions. Alison, wearing a soaking robe (which was likely heavier than her body) struggled to walk. Her makeup was running badly, she could hardly see anything at all. Fear gripped her, she couldn't trust the others, she had to be able to defend herself. Glancing around for anything to defend herself with she gives up quickly and falls to her knees in exhaustion, her slender body invited hypothermia like a dear old friend.
Sportzman and Tricky, following behind Eric, help Alison to her feet and help her walk along the path. Tricky briefly glanced back at the ship, there was nothing he could do to hope to salvage anything, at least tonight. Sportzman took a brief look over the model, through her makeup he recognized her, vaguely. Drunken fling or professional acquaintance, his memory was fuzzy.
Eric looks over the model with a glance and does his best to ignore her. He was never the best at encounters with models... or other attractive women for that matter. Eric walks a little further inland putting his back to the others. Luckily Alison was not in her best condition, and he avoided stuttering. Looking over his shoulder he remarks: "Well the others went with some local to his house. We should head that way. After the storm lets up we can look for more survivors." Without another word he starts to walk inland roughly going the same way he saw the Captain and the others head. Tricky and Sportzman follow closely behind with Alison in tote. Nalot, was never one to leave a silent moment, even during severe weather. Like a child excited to be finally talking with his friends after a long lonely summer he regails them with the tales of his years of work as a handyman, with special concentration on repairing motors. After listening to his own voice trail off into the gale, he speaks (almost yells) "So! what do you guys do!? Any skills that could get us out of this!?"
The other four stop, and Nalot almost bumps into them. Eric addressed the group, "Well, I guess we're here... Let's get out of this storm already!".
Garla was very pleased. The food on the ship was sub-par, this was a dream come true.
"Whoa! Toby...this is incredible! You guys cook like this every night?" He remarks while sitting down to make the food feel appreciated, especially the potatoes. Toby smiled "no sir, like I said before, I mistakenly thought we were to be entertaining guests. In the off season we eat very simple meals and rarely use this room at all. Garla barely heard Toby over the pleasure his mouth was experiencing. "Hey? You guys gonna eat too?". Toby looked around, "Well, Al, Mable and myself have eaten, remember it is quite late already". Al shuffled into the kitchen, so as not to make Garla uncomfortable with too many butlers watching him.
"If I may..." Tony interrupted Garla, "What were you doing out in that storm? How did you get here?"
Out in the foyer MSJ was suddenly hit with the fact that his ship was ruined. How was he going to explain this one to the insurance company. All those passengers too... He slumps down in a seat near the corner of the room, deep in though. "I'm so screwed..."
Back at the beach Darren takes a frantic glance around, was he the only survivor? Through the gale he can barely make out what appears to be a large post, some kind of large cord, and some jagged rocks leading up to a very large rock. The waves are far too dangerous to risk wading back into. There are no people within his viewing range. There is a very faint light emanating above from the forest. Perhaps someone has lit a fire? Running along the rocks he manages to find a path up to the forest. Otherwise he would have had to remain on the beach till dawn or probably break some bones trying to make his way up. The large rocks around him cut the wind down significantly. It is still blowing hard, but is even less upon reaching the edge of the forest. "Aha!" Looking down Darren finds a stick. Turning around and looking back down and out to sea he realizes that even with his stick, investigation of the large rock is impossible at the moment.
[Status]
MSJ - in the foyer
Garla, Toby - in the dining room
Al - in the kitchen
Gavin - in a room, presumably sleeping
Darren - near the forest bordering the beach
Alison, Nalot, Sportzman, Eric, Tricky - at the door of the mansion
"I'm not quite sure how we got here." *gulp* "We just ran into that storm out there, next thing I know we're wakin' up on your beach and Al was yelling at to get out of the storm. It was all pretty crazy. Where is exactly is 'here'?"