island unknown | advanced rp discussion

Will add in photos etc this afternoon

His mind. It was swirling, tilting. Colors were dancing in his head, twisting into the strangest shapes. Noises. Something was roaring in his ears, and as he began to come to, he felt himself rocking to and fro, but at the same time, couldn't feel a thing. He groaned, blinking his eyes open and seeing nothing but the gritty sand underneath his cheek and hands, biting into his skin.
Flynn opened his eyes, and the bright sunshine from above poured into his slitted lids. Too bright. Even this seemed to scald the back of his brain, white hot and intense.
He was half on the beach, half in the water, with the wreckage from the twisted body of the plane a little bit away. That was the reason he couldn't feel himself from his waist down, yet the slight movement, he knew it was the ocean lapping at him, trying to drag him back and into the depths of who-knew-where.

Flynn reached up, heaving himself forward and onto the wet sand. Still, he couldn't make his legs move, no matter what he did. They were numb. Completely gone. Flynn grinned at that. Gone like his mind, he decided.

After a few minutes of staring around his surroundings-at the tall tropical trees, and the hot sun, the sand scattered about with wreckage, and the tiny figures of other stranded people walking along the beach-he managed to sit up. Still, he could feel nothing in his lower end, so if anything was broken or injured, he couldn't tell.

After about twenty minutes, the feeling started returning to his legs and waist, shooting little sparks of electricity in his nerves. He groaned, rubbing his legs and waist, the pain stabbing through his body. It hurt so bad...why did it hurt so bad? Flynn rubbed and rubbed, the sand and salt grating against his sopping wet trousers. Amazingly, his shoes had still stayed on his feet, though they were waterlogged. He pulled them off, peeling off the socks, and dumping out the water. He wouldn't be able to wear these at all, not for now. Once they dried, he could brush the sand off his bare feet and replace them.

Flynn stood, wobbling a bit, and his mind went blank. An...island. Sand. He didn't remember why he was here, not from even the few seconds ago! Terrible. But he started walking forward, limping heavily to the side. A new pain started shooting up from his ankle to his knee in his right leg, and he grunted. It didn't stop him, and he didn't notice the dark spot beside the gash on his pants. That was one of the problems he had; unable to notice even the simple things.

It was dark. Everything was dark. Melanie couldn't see anything. Then, slowly, a blinding light seemed to open up her eyes, and she flickered back into consciousness. "Ugh... what happened?" she groaned softly, shaking her head. She could feel sand on her arms and legs, and found out too soon that she was covered in sand, and water from the sea. She huffed as she slowly tried to sit up, but there was a pain in her abdomen, screaming at her to stop moving. She gasped, and felt around on her body, looking down to see a piece of metal lodged in her abdomen.

Melanie gasped softly, suddenly struggling to breath as panic took over her features. "Oh my... Help!" she called in her panic, looking all around for someone, anyone to notice her. It was then she noticed the only other person closest to her, a man. She breathed a sigh of relief, and lifted a shaking arm to wave him down. "Help!" she called, cupping one hand, which was bloody from touching her wound, to her mouth. "Please... help," she sighed, dropping her hand in defeat. Either he didn't hear her, or didn't see her. He was only about fifty paces to the left of her.

Melanie sighed in defeat, and laid back down in the sand. "Fine... I guess this is how I die," she told herself dramatically. Her thoughts over took her then, as she let her eyes droop closed, bathing herself in the harsh sunlight.

"Sometimes I wish I could die... sometimes. But, if I'm gonna go down like this, that's okay too... I just wish I knew how my favorite shows end... this place is definitely not like Australia or L.A. Or New York... dang it... why did I have to be born in New York?" Melanie talked to herself now, obviously delusional. She opened her eyes again to stare up at the blank sky, which was filled with fluffly white clouds.

In her thoughts she began to play a game. Which cloud looks like an animal? She depicted two horses and a cow already. She heaved a soft sigh, already accepting her fate.

Somewhere through his mind's fog, Flynn heard a voice and someone shouting. He frowned, tossing one of the shoes-he had knotted the laces together-over his shoulder and turned. A girl was lying there on the beach, waving half heartedly at him and seeming to call to him. He could go over there and help her...or he could wait for the rest of his mind to slip away again, to desert him and make him forget all reality.

Fight against it. Don't just stand there stupidly. Besides, you should take this opportunity to go over there and be a hero. You've always wanted to be a hero.

Flynn nodded, listening to that voice inside his head. He shifted his weight on the sand, and began limping towards her.

Good job. You're listening to me again. Now help her. Bend down and be a gentleman. See what you can do for you. And don't forget about your own wounds. Your leg is nearly torn open completely.

"Shut up." Flynn muttered to himself, limping closer and closer to the girl. He didn't need to worry about his own injuries-though it was good to know what was causing the shooting, pounding pain and why the sand was turning damp with red.

Don't be so rude.

"I'm not being rude. In fact, I am listening to you. Now if you would just shut up." Flynn snapped, irritated, as he lowered himself onto his knees beside her. "You look hurt." He smiled, as if that was supposed to be a good thing.

Smiling is mean.

Flynn cleared his throat and glared, but it was hard to tell if it was at the girl or the voice inside his head. He had gotten away without listening to that voice for a few days, but since the crash, he hadn't been taking any medicine that seemed to keep him sane.
"What can I do for you, being the hero that I supposedly am?" He questioned.

Melanie continued her little game, until suddenly, she heard approaching footsteps. Being a stubborn person, she ignored the footsteps until the man in question was suddenly by her side, kneeling down next to her. She frowned against the harsh light of the sun, lifting a hand to shield the rays from her eyes as she looked up at his face. Slowly, his features came into focus, and she sighed with relief to find that, seemingly, it was the same man she had waved down.

"Oi. Did you have a nice walk on the beach? Yes of course I'm freaking hurt, look at what's stuck inside my body, you...you..." she sighed, and trailed off, feeling dizzy. "Just, help me up or something so I can get this peice of metal out, okay?" she asked then.

"And for the record... I don't need saving... yet. I just need an extra pair of eyes and hands. There's no way, among all this wreckage, there's a first aid kit that isn't water logged... though I guess its worth a check..." she muttered, mostly to herself.

It was only then, as she struggled to sit up again, that she noticed he too was bleeding. She gasped, her eyes going wide. "Ouch... your leg looks hurt bad.. that's ... like, a ton of blood, dude," she groaned as she sat up, more blood seeping into her own tanktop as she tried to move. She hissed softly, shaking her head of the dizzy feeling. "But, as I am currently impaled, I figure I'm worse off than you," she mumbled, the dizzy feeling never leaving her.

"We need a find a way off this stupid island... are there other survivors? Besides us?" she wondered outloud. Because of her own little mental disability, she often just talked and talked, and never seemed to shut up.

Everything this woman was blabbering on about was confusing Flynn more than he already was, and he was doing his best to somehow magically control his temper at the moment. Even without his medications, he was doing great!

Great, but you've got me inside, which means you're doing much better than just great!

"Would you just shut your mouth?" Flynn snapped at his inside voice, grabbing a nearby stone and tossing it farther into the sand. He turned back to the girl, gears turning to figure out what on earth he was supposed to be doing with some impaled girl. He had never done anything medical before, as usually he would get into these crazy episodes. Probably he would fall into one in a little bit. Who knew. He chuckled to himself, then started laughing.

"It's just blood! What's a little bit of blood?" Flynn raised a brow, looking down at his leg, aching badly with the pain. He was feeling quite light headed, but that wasn't a big deal. He dealt with that feeling all the time. "Blood keeps us alive."

It does a better job keeping you alive if it's inside of you. Why don't you go off and do something useful instead of stay here beside the girl? Maybe go and swim away from the island or dig to the other side of the world?

"I have no clue, sweetheart." Flynn smiled, glancing around behind him. "There are more people moving over there, unless those aren't people at all. Maybe...nope. I don't think they're people." He stood, grunting with the effort and pain. "I don't know anything about metal. Can't help you. I think I'm going to go on and die on my own." He paused, then yanked his shirt off, tossing it down to her. "Here. Wrap it around you to protect your stomach after you get the metal out. I don't have any bandages."

It wasn't a very good idea for Flynn taking his shirt, as the hot sun was already going to burn them both painfully. His blurry fuzzy mind didn't really think of that, and his "nice" side was currently operating.
"Well, good bye, then." He began, taking a step forward and doing nothing but falling down and onto the hot sand. He growled to himself. "I can't do this. Bryan, I can't do this!!" He suddenly yelled, panting hard, down on all fours in the sand.

Yes, yes, you can. Go on. Get a first aid kit and help the girl.

"I can't do it." Flynn whispered more quietly. "Stop, please."

((Will be posting tomorrow morning, sorry for making you wait!))

((No problem!))