We're on our own

Frost

Frost

Active Member
The plane was starting to quiet down as the lights dimmed and people were getting ready to sleep. People had finished off their airplane food and settled down for the night with their uncomfortable blankets and paper pillows. Ava sighed as they started to do the same. The plastic crinkled loudly as they pulled out both the blanket and pillow and tried to make themself as comfortable as possible in the cramped seat. They were lucky that they'd gotten a window seat so that they could at least lean up a bit against the wall, but the snoring of the old man next to them would probably reign any sleep next to impossible. Trying to not make too much noise they pulled up their pocket version of The Hunger Games out of their small hand luggage and started reading where they'd left off at the airport, thinking that it might make it easier for them to fall asleep.

Loud beeping woke them up and Ava shot straight up in their seat with wide eyes. The lights were now on and the stewardesses were trying to keep everyone in their seats and calm people down. Ava looked around in wild confusion and realized something had to be terribly wrong. The old man next to her leaned over and screamed something in another language, pointing out the window next to them. Not having time to worry about the man almost crushing them, they just shoot a look out the window and almost screamed themself as they saw the wing of the plane being engulfed in flames and smoke. Their heart was racing and the loud sounds of people panicking around mixed with the beeping didn't make things better. Suddenly the plane shook and everyone screamed in unison. A loud click sounded through the plane and a manly voice spoke to them through the speakers.
"Everyone, this is the pilot speaking, we just- SHIT" the message was cut short as the plane jolted in the air once again. The stewardesses had now left the corridors and went to strap themselves in.
"Steven, we're going down..!"
"I know! I know!" was heard over the speakers as the pilots had failed to turn of the transmitters. Ava gripped to the chair so hard that their knuckles were going white and almost felt like they couldn't breath.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck" they cried under their breath, squeezing their eyes shut as the sounds just grew louder and louder. Then they felt a sharp shot through their body and pain before everything disappeared around them.
 
Faraji stared out of the window of the plane while she listened to music. The view that she had from above the clouds was absolutely beautiful. The clouds looked so fluffy and the sky was so blue and clear. She had to take a picture of this and post it on her Instagram later. After snapping a quick picture Faraji pocketed her phone and went back to looking out the window. After a while of listening to her soft jazz playlist she turned off her music and laid back against the seat. Faraji closed her eyes, she was planning on sleeping the rest of the way.

Her light sleep was interrupting by the blaring of alarms and people panicking. The young open quickly sat up and looked around. Her heart dropped when she realized just what was happening. Faraji tried to remain as calm was she could but to no avail. Since her seatbelt was already buckled the only thing left to do was grab the oxygen mask and put it on. Faraji hastily placed the mask on her face and braced herself for impact. She silently prayed for her safely and the safety of everyone on the plan. Faraji fainted shortly after this, her body shutting down from being overwhelmed.
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Isaiah flipped through a sports magazine while eating the food that had been served. It wasn't the best tasting food, nothing could beat his mother's cooking, but it would do for now. For most of the plan ride he had been fidgety. Staying in one place for a long period of time was something that he disliked. He needed to move around and be active or he'd go insane. To cure his restlessness to struck up a conversation with the person next to him. Now that person was asleep so Isaiah was bored all over again. He closed his magazine and put it away. The young man finished his food and had the trey taken away.

Isaiah was just about to say hell with it and go to sleep himself. He was stopped in his tracks when the plane erupted chaos and the oxygen masks dropped down in front of everyone. Quickly Isaiah buckled his seat belt and placed the mask on his face. He knew what would happen if he didn't. After saying a quick prayer to make it out alive so closed his eyes and braced himself for impact. During the commotion Isaiah was pushed and hit his head against the window. He passed out in his seat.
 
Chojin was trying to build another Gundam but he couldt with a loud women next to him and a crying baby Chojin just place some ear buds and began working again. Next thing that happen made Chojin jump from his seat and Straight To The restroom and quicky be can to break the mirror.
 
She hated being afraid.

Hated it with a passion. The anxiety of knowing that everything--even her own safety--was too far out of her own hands. It made her feel small and vulnerable--characteristics she'd profaned even as a child. She had always preferred to be in control, always chose to take the initiative.

Passivity, her father had told her, only bred dependence and fear, and like him, she had no use for either. But she wasn't in control, not this time. She had given up that right, agreed to let them call the shots. She had willingly made herself a victim. And God help her, she was afraid.

Don't think about it, Marion. Don't think about it....

She settled into the soft seat with a nonchalance she didn't feel, and picked up a magazine from the pocket in front of her. The pages blurred together as she turned them mindlessly. She couldn't concentrate on anything except every flutter and tilt the plane made as it flied.

It's all out of your hands, Maz. It's not in your control....

She gave up--slapped the magazine closed and tossed it into the empty seat beside her. This is ridiculous, she chided herself. You might as well get over it. You've gone too far to stop it now anyway.

It'll be okay. It'll have to be okay...

She sighed and continued to fidget in the wide leather seat, unable to get comfortable. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck. God, she was hot. The stillness of the air in the confined space was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

You're helpless, Marion. Completely dependent.

She dropped her head heavily against the seat back, causing an errant strand of dark hair to fall across her eyes.

Maz startled into consciousness, surprised to find she had been dozing. She didn't know what had roused her, only that the sense of dread she had felt since boarding the plane cheerfully returned.

Her yawn was drowned out by a mechanical whine outside of the window. It ended abruptly, replaced by a sputtering that could only be a sign of worse things to come.

She felt the blood drain from her face. "Oh my God."

The sputtering stopped and the plane shuddered violently in response. She raised the shade closest to her and looked out. There was nothing unusual in what she could see, but what she could hear scared the hell out of her.

Silence.

The engine outside her window had completely shut down. Then she tasted smoke.

Maz tightened her seatbelt, adrenaline surging through her body as the plane lost altitude with amazing speed. She had the grotesque sensation of free-falling sideways. It was a feeling of utter insignificance, as though the plane itself was no more than a dead leaf, blown hurriedly across the sky. Her shaking fingers reached for the tiny gold cross dangling from her neck, and she clutched it tightly, looking out the plane's window as the mountainside spiraled closer and closer. She was dizzy and the acrid smell of flame sapped her energy.

As she lost consciousness, the last thought she had was that she'd never fainted before in her life.
 
Maverick had settled into his seat. He hated travelling alone. It meant that if he didn't get there early, he wouldn't get to the window seat. And as luck may have it, he didn't get the window seat. The one who got it was a sweet old lady. In the duration of the trip, they exchanged pleasantries and stories. He found out that her name was Emily Grayson, aged 63 and was going to visit her son and his family. Mav asked why she was the one visiting instead of her son and she merely replied with a smile and the reasoning that they wouldn't be able to handle the kids on flight. He decided not to pry any further.

He drifted to sleep earlier than the rest, finding it hard to keep himself awake when Emily was already intent on reading the newspaper. He lowered his cap so it would cover his face and then went into a rather light sleep. He was not one for using the blanket or the pillow provided by the airlines as he found it uncomfortable no matter what position he took and his sweater (though it was a hassle at security as he had to take off so many things) provided enough insulation for him.

Mav was woken up by Emily's shaking. He grumbled something and looked at her to see her gesturing towards the aisle. Oh, dinner. He quickly told his order and then dug in. He and Emily got into another conversation, now more about Mav's life. He told her about his time learning parkour and free running, though he never got far because he had to maintain his grades and he also got an injury. When they finished their dinner, Emily had settled in and began to drift to sleep. Mav found it difficult to do so, having just slept minutes before, so he settled for reading a magazine. He had to open the light and, thankfully, Emily didn't mind. He wore his glasses and then began to read about random stuff he found on the magazine. He even took a look at the airplane emergency guide.

He wasn't sure when it happened or how it happened, it just did. He first saw the flight attendants frantically talking to each other and then the plane lurched forward. Mav saw the wing was being engulfed in flames. And in an instant, everyone was awake and screaming. Mav felt his heart constricting in panic, the feeling of wanting to run away but knowing that there wasn't anywhere to run to was a horrible feeling indeed. Oxygen masks dropped down. He made sure he was buckled up and then put the mask to his face. He looked over to Emily to see that the old woman was now lying limp beside him. Another wave of panic ran over him and he frantically began shaking her. "Fuck." He muttered under his breath as he checked her pulse.... there was none. He tried to call someone over, alerting an attendant that the old woman had perished from a heart attack but the attendant told him that there was nothing they could do.

It was only a moment after when everything became silent. The world had become black. He had lost consciousness.
 
The first thing that Ava felt when she slowly grew conscious was the sharp pain in her chest and shoulders. It felt as though a huge pressure laid on her lungs and she gasped for air as her eyes shot open, only to find darkness. The air was thick and reeked of the smell of smoke and burnt metal, making her cough and she winced as the pain shot through her body. Where...? She tried to turn to see if she could see anything besides darkness, but found herself stuck. Wriggling in an attempt to break free she quickly realized that she was stuck under something. Something heavy. With a sigh she stopped moving and just breathed trying to collect her thoughts.

She remembered the screams and the panic of people around her. The oxygen masks that dropped, but that she couldn't get herself to reach for. How the plane had tilted and rocked in the air as they quickly descended upon the ground and how to pilots had fought to try and keep them up, but to no avail.

Ava laid still with her eyes open in the dark, feeling the prickling of tears at the corner of her eyes. We crashed. How did I survive? Swallowing back the tears she pushed those thoughts to the side. There was no time to think about that now. She just knew she had to get out of there. The chance that the plane could blow up was still a risk and she was guessing that she wasn't far from it, if not inside it.

With a huff she once again tried to wiggle free, trying to feel how her body was positioned under whatever it was that held her down. She had no feeling in her legs and the fear that they might have been cut of came as quickly as it went in her mind. I wouldn't be alive if me legs were cut of and spurting blood everywhere, she reasoned and kept trying to push her way out. A small ray of light shone down from somewhere above her and Ava turned her head towards it. There was a little hole in the rood of her confinement that let in soft rays of sunlight. From what she could tell the sky above her was still dark though. Early morning? She turned back to her conundrum, thankful that she now could see (at least a little bit). Her left arm was twisted in a weird way in front of her, stuck between what she guessed was two airplane seats. The rest of her was stuck under them. Great. Biting her lip in anticipation of the pain she carefully tried to unstuck the arm. She hissed and shook her head as the arm moved just a few millimeters. She contemplated her situation for a second before she made a decision. This will have to be quick-

With a violent tug the arm came free and Ava barely stifled a scream and swore under her breath.
"Ow ow ow ow ow" she chanted quietly, waiting for the pain to subside. Throwing an eye down at the rest of her situation she let out a dejected sigh.
"This is gonna SUCK"
 
Chojin woke up "what the hey who turn of the light" he thought to himself before he pulled out his pocket flashlight. "Oh no" Chojin said as he realize that he was stuck in the restroom in the window was Jamed "oh calm down this could be a dream" he told himslef before he shine flashlight at the mirror. To Chojin horror the mirror was broken in the glass was stuck in his arms and legs "CRAP" he yelled out in pain while pulling the glass out of his body.
 
When Faraji started to regain conciousnes as the first thing that occurred to her was that by some miracle she was alive. The second think that she noticed was that her body was sore and she was still inside of the plane. Her seatbelt was now a hindrance since it was only keeping her from getting out. "I need to find a way out of here..." Faraji managed to unbuckle the seatbelt after a moment. She looked for any source of light that signified an exit. She found one relatively easy, one of the door of the planes leading to the outside world. It was a tight fit but with enough wiggling she would be able to get through. So the young woman crawled towards the door and after wiggling she made it through. When she finally made it outside she just laid their for a moment and began to cry. The young woman composed herself after a while and shakily stood up. Her clothes were ripped and damaged while her body was cut up in some places and their were bruises in others. Faraji thought that she heard someone talking so she looked around. "H-Hello?" Her accented voice was loud in case the person was far.
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Isaiah woke up with a killer headache. He groaned and held his head, only to feel a cut on his temple. "Damnit!" He cursed in his head. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. His gaze trailed along the damaged plane and equally damaged people inside. Isaiah closed his eyes again. He needed to get out of here fast. He unbuckled his seatbelt and started to crawl,looking for an exit. He found one near the front of the plane. A huge opening that he could easily fit through. With his adrenaline pumping in his veins Isaiah started to crawl to the exit quickly. He avoided sharp things and bodies as much as he could. When he made it out the young man only got onto his knees. He tore a piece of his shirt off and applied pressure to his wound. He wondered if anyone else made it out.
 
Chojin grab his flashlight and started to hit the window for a while till a few the window broke causing more glass to fall on him "dang it" he whisper. Chojin slowly grab the window with his left hand but a sharp pain struck his hand "crap crap crap crap" he muttered to himself and pulled himself though the window.
 
While Ava was in the middle of getting her other arm loose from under the seats she heard a the faint sound of someone calling out "H-hello?". She stopped dead in her tracks and just listened intently for a couple of seconds. When she heard nothing else she quickly yelled back.
"Hello! Is someone there? Help me, please..!" Her voice echoed in the small space and she just hoped that the person could hear her.
"Hello!" she called again before going back to trying to get her right arm out. She still couldn't bare to move her left arm because of the pain and the feeling of helplessness started to fill her with nausea. The smoke only made it worse and she coughed repeatedly and whined as er lungs met the resistance of the weight upon them.
 
So she hadn't been imaging if after all. There was someone else who had managed to survive the crash. She saw someone else kneeling on the ground. From where she stood the person looking male. He didn't seem to hurt so she turned her attention back to the person who had been crying for help. Faraji looked the sound of the person's voice. The sound was coming from inside of the plane. "Hold on I'm coming!" She looked for an opening and once she found one Faraji climbed back inside. "I'm inside, where are you?" She looked around with her eyes squinted.
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Isaiah could hear voices but now he was focused on his head. He stood up slowly and looked around he crash site. To think that they were just up in the air, as carefree as could be. He sighed and wiped a stray tear away. He was happy that he was able to make it out alive.
 
When Ava heard the voice coming closer she visibly relaxed, but not entirely. Her position didn't really allow it and she didn't feel at ease in the situation anyway. She kept still and could swear that she heard light footsteps coming closer. Lifting her head of the floor she tried to squint into the darkness.
"I'm inside, where are you?" she heard someone saying, this time very close.
"I'm over here!" she called, attempting to wave her free arm to be seen, but only managed a small flail before she had to clench her teeth to not cry out from the strain in her shoulder. She let her head fall down against the floor again and huffed, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. I really hope the plane is stable. Please don't blow up, she thought as the shut her eyes for a moment, waiting for her savior.
 
Faraji looked around until she spotted some movement. Quickly she made her way over. "I'm here." When she saw the person's position she frowned. "Your arm...maybe I can push the seats apart far enough and you'll be able to wiggle free." She suggested. Faraji moved over to the seat and and started to push. She hoped that her actions would help the other person and not hurt them. Faraji tried pulling the seat back in attempt to free the other person's arm. "Any luck?" She asked hopefully. If this didn't work maybe she could find something to lift the bottom of the seat up. She prayed that the plane was stable and not about to blow up. She didn't want her attempt to be in vain.
 
As the other person came into view Ava couldn't help but smile slightly in relief.
"Thanks for coming over" she joked slightly before focusing on their task. She nodded in agreement that the persons plan and made herself ready to break free. When the seats separated Ava felt the pressure on her arm easing off and she started to slowly wiggle it free.
"Any luck?" the person asked and Ava just nodded, in full concentration mode.
"Yes!" she cheered as her arm came out with a slight pop. This one seemed less damaged than the first one luckily and she turned it slightly in front of her just to make sure it was okay.

"Okay now it's just...uh, the rest of me" Ava mumbled gesturing at the seats laying on top of her, slowly crushing her. It was a miracle that she hadn't already been mushed into a paste in the crash, she thought. Licking her dry lips she thought about how to go about getting her out of there. It seemed like the quickest and easiest solution was for them both to just push upwards so that she hopefully could slip out unharmed.
"So, I think we probably have to push it up together on the count of three, yeah?" she said, making sure that the other person was with her on the plan. She made herself ready by placing her healthy arm in a position to lift the two seats up and away from herself.
"Ready?"
 
The plane lay on its side, mangled and twisted on the rocky lip of the mountainside where it had come to rest. The gaping hole that had been the right side of the cabin now opened toward the sky, allowing the early afternoon sun to beat down upon the exposed interior.

Perched as it was, the wreckage gave the appearance of a sacrificial offering, held out from the arms of the mountain. It was quiet now. The creaking and groaning of the framework had settled, replaced by the eerie stillness of tension, as if the plane, aware of its position, was somehow holding its breath.

Inside the cabin, Maz groaned, awareness returning to her in bits and pieces, like a nightmare recalled from the safety of dawn. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times to focus her vision on the confusing jumble of images that swam before her at eye level. Her carry-on bag, part of a seat cushion, broken glass, pieces of metal--

She twisted frantically, ignoring the pain that shot through her with every movement, desperate to find some order amid the chaos in her mind. She forced herself to breathe deeply, trying to calm the paralyzing fear that was hovering.

Panic was not an option; hysteria, while tempting, was energy wasted. Mentally, she went through her "repertoire" as she called it, the standard physician's checklist: no broken bones, no paralysis, no significant loss of feeling although there was some definite numbness in her left leg, several scrapes and scratches, endless bruises, probably a concussion. Not too bad for a plane crash survivor, she concluded. She was alive. It was enough.

She looked around, assessing the situation, and realized that she was lying face down upon the emergency exit door. Rather, what used to be the door. In the tilted cabin, it now appeared to serve as the floor, and Maz was wedged against it, held nearly immobile by the loose debris that surrounded her. Her seat had broken free upon impact, its warped frame now clinging to her body with the desperation of a small child.

Lucidity continued to return slowly as she maneuvered herself carefully around the jagged pieces of structuralized metal, inching her way closer to freedom. It was a tedious process, but she didn't have the luxury of waiting for rescue--she was quickly becoming dehydrated.

She succeeded finally in liberating her left arm and used it to unlock the seat belt that had kept her prisoner. She sat up gingerly, rubbing stiff muscles and joints, getting her first unobstructed view of the remains of the aircraft. She was definitely not alone, she could hear voices and movement but her head was too murky to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. She leaned heavily on her seat as she stood up, concentrating on her surroundings.
 
Faraji looked at the rest of the person's body. She couldn't help but chuckle. How could she have missed all of that? Her expression turned serious and she nodded in agreement. "Ready." She positioned herself. "One...two...three!" Faraji started to push the seat upward with all of her strength. She was determined to get this person unstuck. "Any luck?" She asked them hopefully.
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Isaiah was starting to feel slightly better, but only slightly. From what he could tell his wound didn't need stitches. The only reason why it had bleed much was because where it was located. He took a breath and stood up, still holding the towel to his wound. Isaiah looked around the crash sight. He could have sworn that he heard voices. Maybe he was started to lose his mind.

He wondered if the crash was already being televised. He would sure that it was. If family were probably worried to death about him. His mother had always been an emotional woman, no doubt that she was crying. He wished that help would come soon. He wanted to go home, to assure his mother that he was alive and not so well.
 
Chojin slowly move around till he saw some people close by "hey over there" he called over but then fell over when he started to walk over to them "crap not again" he said in a tiny voice while he fell unconscious again on the ground
 
Maverick's eyes shot open and he took a sharp inhale, regretting it almost immediately as the smell of burnt metal and blood invaded his sense of smell. He looked around, the plane was an absolute wreck. He looked to the side to see that the old woman was still limp. Definitely dead. He shook his head to make his refocus on saving his ass first. He fumbled to unbuckled the seat and then he stood up, using the seat in front of him as some form of balance.

If there were any survivors, he certainly couldn't see them now. He took a step forward and he could already feel the pain of the crash. He felt sore and definitely pained, but alive. At least he was alive right? He stopped to look under his seat. Damn it, his bag seemed to have flown away. That wasn't good. He continued to move forward, hoping to find an exit. Thankfully, he found one. He squeezed through the door and collapsed on the ground. Okay, he was out of the plane. He looked around.

Oh in the name of all things that are good and holy, where was he? Panic had set in once more. He let out a sigh and readjusted his cap. "Well shit."
 
Chojin open his eyes to see a small bird next to him "who are you" he ask while the bird began to peck at him "hey stop that ok" he said before he got up. "Where are you going" a voice called out him "what the....who said that" he ask before turning his head to bird who slowly flew on top of his head "ok little buddy lets find who made that voice" he said
 
Maz turned her head toward the front of the cabin, where she could finally see to whom the voices belonged to. A tall, dark-skinned woman was helping an Asian person out of a crevice, and she could see a young man exit the plane. Two other male figures registered in her view. Her right arm grasped the armrest to steady herself when the sudden movement made her dizzy.

Summoning courage and breath in the same instant, she began to make her way toward the front of the plane. It was awkward with it lying sideways. She crawled and stepped as carefully as she could over broken seats, strips of jagged metal, and shattered windows, pulling herself forward with agonizing deliberation.

She tentatively called out to them; trying to meet the tall woman's eyes, shattering the utter stillness of the air with a voice that was too fragile, to tentative and childlike to sound anything like her own. "Hello? I can help... I'm--I'm a medical technician."

Though she certainly didn't feel like one, she didn't endure a year of grueling medical and communications training for nothing. She finally made it to the other woman's side, though wisely staying out of the way as she worked to release the smaller person from their predicament. Upon further inspection, she was exquisite, with white hair that perfectly suited her. Maz desperately wished she had a steel-cutter to assist them with, but she hung back uselessly, a sense of shame almost tangibly sticking to her skin. She trembled slightly, though her rational mind chalked it up to shock. She reasoned that she could help whoever needed immediate medical attention, though a full-staffed ambulance would do them a lot more good than just one veteran EMT.
 
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