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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...
You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.
You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.
Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
Alex Marsters // OC wereleopard
His golden eyes open and he looks blearily around the ship, trying to piece together what the he'll had happened. He'd only just left a modeling gig and was on his way back home when... everything just went dark. He frowns, trying to remember what had happened or how he'd gotten here, but it's all just a blank.
The heavily metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, mixed with the burnt electric smell of fried wires and fire. It's the former that worries him the most, as there is no power any longer, nor the sharp scent of gasoline that might warn of an impending explosion. He tries to focus again, body already beginning to heal itself of its injuries; a benefit of his lycanthropy. Fumbling with the criss-cross belt across his chest, he finally manages to release the catch and pulls it up and over his head, grunting as his head spins again.
And then Newt trips over his legs.
Alex reaches out to help steady the other boy, waving the apology away with one hand.]
It's fine... You okay? [Asks the guy with the bleeding head wound; but if Newt pays attention, he might notice that the bleeding begins to slow and the gash appears to be closing as he watches.]
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Oh, I'm brilliant. [ There's tired sarcasm laced in the answer, but it doesn't seem to be meant as offensive to the other guy. Squinting, Newt looks at Alex, watching his head wound. ] You're bleeding. [ Newt's hand moves to hover over the spot on his own head where Alex is bleeding, and simply stares in mild amazement at what the gash is doing...
Right, it's way too dark in there and he's possibly going nuts. Clearing his throat he nods downwards. ]
There's a backpack under your seat. Might have somethin' for that. [ The teenager hasn't gone through his own yet, but there might be something helpful for a head injury in it, not that Newt's really sure what would qualify as helpful. Gauze? A band-aid? A sewing kit? ]
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I'm good. [He glances down at the bag, however, leaning to grab it and grimacing again because he feels like one giant bruise.] Shit... You didn't happen to get the number of that truck, did you? [His fingers grab the bag's strap and he pulls it free, again shaking his head.]
Honest, I'm fine... It'll heal. [Only he doesn't mean in the next few days; he means it will heal almost fully before they've even gotten off the shuttle craft. The scent of blood was heavy in the air around them, people crying and screaming as they fought to get free. Golden eyes focus on Newt again and he gestures toward the opening.]
We should get off this thing... even without power something could spark or the whole damn thing could collapse. [Hed noticed that Newt was standing with his weight uncentered, favoring one leg more than the other.] You need a hand? [Sure, Newt could refuse, but he could at least offer, right?]
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Dark blond eyebrows tug together, skeptical of the answer about healing. ] Before or after ya bleed out? [ Seems kinda useless for this shank to allow himself to bleed out, but Newt doesn't know him well enough to force him to take care of the injury, so instead he lets a soft annoyed chuff of air out.
When Alex gestures towards the torn hole in the ship, Newt nods gently in agreement, wanting to get out towards the light and see exactly where they landed. The teenager's mind is already running through possible scenarios when he hears Alex speak again. Offering help. The confused noise that passes his lips is quiet before it clicks. ] I'm fine. [ Right, his leg. ] You're the one bleeding, I should be askin' you that.
[ The blond holds his hand out to Alex, offering to help him up. ]
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[He's uncertain how bad his forehead must look, but it feels like it's no longer bleeding; which is a plus. The downside is that head wounds bleed like hell so Alex is fairly certain he looks rather like bell himself; he was already a pretty fair of skin and his hair was a ridiculously pale white blond, so he probably looked like death warmed over.]
Honest, I'm not trying to make it out as nothing, but I'm lycanthrope and I heal fast. It's more a mess than anything, I think...
[When Newt offers him a hand up, Alex grabs it securely and let's the other boy help him to his feet. Pulling his backpack over one shoulder, he casts a quick look around the wreck of a shuttle before focusing on getting the hell out of it.
He'll keeps his attention equally split between their path and Newt himself, ready to grab for him if he needs it.]
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The limp seems to be something he's used to, able to walk with it, even if the overall pain of his entire body is making it worse nothing serious seems to be wrong - simply a badly healed injury from the past?
When they step outside the ship, Newt squints against the suddenly blaring sun, the bright light sending searing pain into his dark eyes that he aggressively tries to blink away. The darkness that his eyes had gotten used to lulled his eyes into a false sense of security. ] What the shuck is this?
[ Wasn't the world supposed to be burnt to a crisp? The ship's confusing enough as it is. ]