[GAME EVENT] Day 2: Let's Get This Party Started
(OOC Note: I borrowed a few characters for this, threw in a couple of things that seemed to fit.)
Golden sand, swaying palms, calm turquoise waters. A warm balmy breeze gently blowing while the sun warmed the sand beneath the feet. A stretch of golden sand perfect for sunbathing stretching in two directions - if Daniel squinted hard enough and pretended not to notice the fuselage husk, the dead bodies, or the plane debris he might have been able to convince himself for five minutes that he was on a tropical vacation or had just set foot on a beautiful paradise world.
Unfortunately, ignoring wasn't in the cards.
There had been much questioning and discussion last night regarding the "Jungle Monster." No one mentioned the footprint, but there was mention of scales and the size and speed of the thing. Everyone seemed to have a theory - at least those who gathered around the signal fire or watching the tree line did. A good number of the survivors simply decided to put it out of their minds and tried to go back to sleep. But the buzzing conversation and speculation continued until he fell asleep. If any of the grogginess seen around the camp this morning was any indication, it continued long after as well.
This morning's task was to hold a "town meeting," for lack of a better description. It was important that everyone got the same information and that all questions could be asked and possibly answered at the same time. As the nagging voice in the back of Daniel's head kept reminding him, even given a search radius, the Pacific Ocean was impossibly large and rescue would probably be more than a day or two in coming.
(If they can find us at all.) He was willing to take Jon's assertion that the stars were right, that they had to be on earth somewhere in the southern hemisphere, but beyond that Daniel wasn't sure about. Was it their earth? If it was, how did his wormhole go off track and land him on the same beach with Jon right before the plane crash? If it wasn't, then how in the hell had the plane gotten to wherever they were? And what were the odds that Jack O'Neill's clone and Rodney McKay would both be on the same flight from Sydney to Los Angeles?
Coincidence was one thing. The number of coincidences here were a bit unsettling.
Daniel slipped his glasses on and looked out at the assembled survivors. He knew most of them, and could put a name to the face, even those he hadn't actually met, a fact that he was proud of. If people were going to work together, and they would have to work together if they planned on lasting until the search crews - or the SGC whichever came first - found them, they would have to learn to trust one another. Even if it was only for a few days.
With a sigh, Daniel straightened up and began to talk. He didn't scream, he just spoke, knowing that the buzzing conversation would die down. "All right, I know everyone is probably wondering why I had Hurley and Jon and Ash get us all together. Basically, it's because there are things that need to be said, plans that need to be made, and rather than anyone getting any information second hand, this is the perfect forum to make sure that we're all on the same page."
"What's the point? The rescue planes or boats or whatever will be here soon."
Daniel nodded, "Yes, you're right, Shannon." He watched the surprise ripple across her face, (did she think I didn't know her name?) "But I think we all need to start out being completely honest about when that's going to happen. The plane was en route over the Pacific Ocean. From what I remember of geography, that's a huge body of water. It's not like they can just walk out to the local lake and find us. It could take more than a day or two."
"More than a day or two? There's just, just no way, Jackson. There's not enough food, not enough water -"
"McKay." Daniel clipped the man's name in warning, but it was too late. A concerned murmuring was rising up from the crowd and Daniel had to raise his voice a little to be heard over it. "This is a living jungle, everyone. There will be fruit and roots that can be harvested and eaten. Not exactly a five star dining experience, but there are plenty of cultures and tribes alive today in less developed countries that have managed to live for plenty of years by learning how to harvest the land.
"Some of us here have survival training," Daniel was careful to not look at Jon, but he did include Blaise, John, Ash and Ripley in his gaze, "So we will not starve."
"Yeah, well, what about water, Dr. Danny?"
Daniel resisted the very childish urge to give Sawyer a rude a hand gesture. (He is going to be trouble in a big way.)
"It's an island with mountains, there's gotta be run-off somewhere. A stream or something leadin' back to the beach." That was Clarice Starling. "We just have to find it."
"And I suppose you're gonna go lookin' for it girlie?"
"Ah just might."
"But before it comes to that, we need to take care of a few more immediate issues," Daniel interrupted before Sawyer could provoke an argument. The man seemed to live for drama, or maybe he was just a professional asshole. "And this is the less fun part. Something is going to have to be done with those who didn't make it. It's going to get hot, and it's going to get bad. And I'm not going to hold back anyone who volunteers to help."
"Dude, if that's the less fun part, which part of this was more fun?" Hurley asked, earning some laughter from the crowd and a smile from Daniel as well.
"Where are we going to bury them?" Daniel couldn't place the voice and didn't see who spoke.
"I got a better question, how are you gonna bury them? 'Cause personally, I just got my nails done and I ain't about to ruin a good manicure," Sawyer quipped.
"We're not."
Daniel waited while the implications of his words sunk into the survivors. He caught the chattering of Korean off to the side and looked to see Ami Jackson - and yes, he did note the coincidence of the shared last name - talking and translating for the Kwons. (So, she's the one who speaks Korean.)
A female Aussie accent broke through the murmurings. "Then we should do something for them. A memorial service."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Hey man, if you don't have anything constructive to say, please just take it somewhere else," Michael snapped at Sawyer. "Some of us would like to actually be alive when the rescue gets here."
"Claire, most of us don't even know who these people are." Charlie Pace, either suffering from adult ADD or a serious addiction. Daniel sincerely hoped it was the former. "I'm not saying it's a bad idea, but what would we say?"
"I could do it, Daniel," Claire continued as if neither Sawyer nor Charlie had interrupted her. "I'll just get all of the wallets and passports and read their names. They deserve some sort of decent memorial."
Daniel admired her sincerity. "You're right, they do. They were people, not animals and there's no reason that we can't have a memorial service." He gave Claire an encouraging smile before continuing, "And last, but not least, we need to find the nose of the plane. The black box is there, and quite possibly a working radio." He caught Jon's eye and noticed the approving nod. "Of course, finding the nose of the plane means going into the jungle."
"With the T-Rex? No way," Hurley said immediately. "I prefer body duty."
A chorus of assents rose to Hurley's commentary.
A chorus of interested parties also chimed up, just as Daniel had known they would. As those interested in going hunting for the cockpit gathered around and made plans, the rest of the survivors drifted away to do whatever else was necessary to survive another day.
[tagging everyone - what are you going to do today? You can post what you did before the little pow-wow as well]
Golden sand, swaying palms, calm turquoise waters. A warm balmy breeze gently blowing while the sun warmed the sand beneath the feet. A stretch of golden sand perfect for sunbathing stretching in two directions - if Daniel squinted hard enough and pretended not to notice the fuselage husk, the dead bodies, or the plane debris he might have been able to convince himself for five minutes that he was on a tropical vacation or had just set foot on a beautiful paradise world.
Unfortunately, ignoring wasn't in the cards.
There had been much questioning and discussion last night regarding the "Jungle Monster." No one mentioned the footprint, but there was mention of scales and the size and speed of the thing. Everyone seemed to have a theory - at least those who gathered around the signal fire or watching the tree line did. A good number of the survivors simply decided to put it out of their minds and tried to go back to sleep. But the buzzing conversation and speculation continued until he fell asleep. If any of the grogginess seen around the camp this morning was any indication, it continued long after as well.
This morning's task was to hold a "town meeting," for lack of a better description. It was important that everyone got the same information and that all questions could be asked and possibly answered at the same time. As the nagging voice in the back of Daniel's head kept reminding him, even given a search radius, the Pacific Ocean was impossibly large and rescue would probably be more than a day or two in coming.
(If they can find us at all.) He was willing to take Jon's assertion that the stars were right, that they had to be on earth somewhere in the southern hemisphere, but beyond that Daniel wasn't sure about. Was it their earth? If it was, how did his wormhole go off track and land him on the same beach with Jon right before the plane crash? If it wasn't, then how in the hell had the plane gotten to wherever they were? And what were the odds that Jack O'Neill's clone and Rodney McKay would both be on the same flight from Sydney to Los Angeles?
Coincidence was one thing. The number of coincidences here were a bit unsettling.
Daniel slipped his glasses on and looked out at the assembled survivors. He knew most of them, and could put a name to the face, even those he hadn't actually met, a fact that he was proud of. If people were going to work together, and they would have to work together if they planned on lasting until the search crews - or the SGC whichever came first - found them, they would have to learn to trust one another. Even if it was only for a few days.
With a sigh, Daniel straightened up and began to talk. He didn't scream, he just spoke, knowing that the buzzing conversation would die down. "All right, I know everyone is probably wondering why I had Hurley and Jon and Ash get us all together. Basically, it's because there are things that need to be said, plans that need to be made, and rather than anyone getting any information second hand, this is the perfect forum to make sure that we're all on the same page."
"What's the point? The rescue planes or boats or whatever will be here soon."
Daniel nodded, "Yes, you're right, Shannon." He watched the surprise ripple across her face, (did she think I didn't know her name?) "But I think we all need to start out being completely honest about when that's going to happen. The plane was en route over the Pacific Ocean. From what I remember of geography, that's a huge body of water. It's not like they can just walk out to the local lake and find us. It could take more than a day or two."
"More than a day or two? There's just, just no way, Jackson. There's not enough food, not enough water -"
"McKay." Daniel clipped the man's name in warning, but it was too late. A concerned murmuring was rising up from the crowd and Daniel had to raise his voice a little to be heard over it. "This is a living jungle, everyone. There will be fruit and roots that can be harvested and eaten. Not exactly a five star dining experience, but there are plenty of cultures and tribes alive today in less developed countries that have managed to live for plenty of years by learning how to harvest the land.
"Some of us here have survival training," Daniel was careful to not look at Jon, but he did include Blaise, John, Ash and Ripley in his gaze, "So we will not starve."
"Yeah, well, what about water, Dr. Danny?"
Daniel resisted the very childish urge to give Sawyer a rude a hand gesture. (He is going to be trouble in a big way.)
"It's an island with mountains, there's gotta be run-off somewhere. A stream or something leadin' back to the beach." That was Clarice Starling. "We just have to find it."
"And I suppose you're gonna go lookin' for it girlie?"
"Ah just might."
"But before it comes to that, we need to take care of a few more immediate issues," Daniel interrupted before Sawyer could provoke an argument. The man seemed to live for drama, or maybe he was just a professional asshole. "And this is the less fun part. Something is going to have to be done with those who didn't make it. It's going to get hot, and it's going to get bad. And I'm not going to hold back anyone who volunteers to help."
"Dude, if that's the less fun part, which part of this was more fun?" Hurley asked, earning some laughter from the crowd and a smile from Daniel as well.
"Where are we going to bury them?" Daniel couldn't place the voice and didn't see who spoke.
"I got a better question, how are you gonna bury them? 'Cause personally, I just got my nails done and I ain't about to ruin a good manicure," Sawyer quipped.
"We're not."
Daniel waited while the implications of his words sunk into the survivors. He caught the chattering of Korean off to the side and looked to see Ami Jackson - and yes, he did note the coincidence of the shared last name - talking and translating for the Kwons. (So, she's the one who speaks Korean.)
A female Aussie accent broke through the murmurings. "Then we should do something for them. A memorial service."
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Hey man, if you don't have anything constructive to say, please just take it somewhere else," Michael snapped at Sawyer. "Some of us would like to actually be alive when the rescue gets here."
"Claire, most of us don't even know who these people are." Charlie Pace, either suffering from adult ADD or a serious addiction. Daniel sincerely hoped it was the former. "I'm not saying it's a bad idea, but what would we say?"
"I could do it, Daniel," Claire continued as if neither Sawyer nor Charlie had interrupted her. "I'll just get all of the wallets and passports and read their names. They deserve some sort of decent memorial."
Daniel admired her sincerity. "You're right, they do. They were people, not animals and there's no reason that we can't have a memorial service." He gave Claire an encouraging smile before continuing, "And last, but not least, we need to find the nose of the plane. The black box is there, and quite possibly a working radio." He caught Jon's eye and noticed the approving nod. "Of course, finding the nose of the plane means going into the jungle."
"With the T-Rex? No way," Hurley said immediately. "I prefer body duty."
A chorus of assents rose to Hurley's commentary.
A chorus of interested parties also chimed up, just as Daniel had known they would. As those interested in going hunting for the cockpit gathered around and made plans, the rest of the survivors drifted away to do whatever else was necessary to survive another day.
[tagging everyone - what are you going to do today? You can post what you did before the little pow-wow as well]