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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.
THANK GOD please don't fail me. the dog ate my post...
Robin eyes the injury above the guy's head. He's not a doctor or anything by any means, but it didn't look too terribly bad. Maybe that's because it wasn't gushing everywhere. He was moving, he was talking, and for now that seemed to be good enough. At least until people could get a sense of where they were, or what was going on. ]
Been better, I guess. [ The same hand comes up to rub at his neck, rolling his head around a few times. ] I'm not sure what happened here, but it's not pretty, whatever it is.
[ That was putting it nicely. ]
I...don't remember what happened. [ Everything up until the last few minutes is blank. That's not a good sign, considering memory loss after unconsciousness could possibly hint at a concussion. And his head hurt enough to the point where he could believe that. ] ...Do you?
Likely story. I suppose we'll let it slide this once.
So far, we're shepherding the wounded out of the crash sight and gathering supplies for a small hike to some ruins. [Buck pulls a backpack out from under a seat and holds it out to the kid.]
Most of these have some kind of off-brand Aspirin and a water bottle. We've got varying degrees of whiplash to all out broken bones from person to person. If nothing's broken, you might count yourself one of the lucky ones. Got a name, kid?