[M]Verbena [IC]

[L]

http://i869.photobucket.com/albums/ab254/BrettJHowell/planet.jpg

Verbena,
Alpha Centauri B
June 22, 2202


Apollo Alpha, Apollo Corp's primary faster-than-light spacecraft, appeared just outside Verbena's gravitational pull in the blink of an eye. The jump from Earth to Alpha Centauri's second star was uneventful to the experienced members of the crew and a few of the passengers. Having endured the nausea and stomach aches of hyperspace jump multiple times, they were immune to jump sickness now.

For those – not so experienced – the jump was comparable to being ripped apart cell by cell, then instantaneously reassembled at a point light years away.

It was comparable to that because that's exactly what hyper-space jumps did.

Apollo Corp was well aware of VJS (Virgin Jumper Syndrome), and each passenger compartment was equipped with a jump-seat and close by sink – for those unwise enough to eat meals before a jump. As an extra precaution, all Medical Bays for 2 hours before a jump also offered anti-nausea tablets, at no charge, for any passenger that desired them.

The jump itself, though, took mere seconds from one star system to the other.

-

An hour after Apollo Alpha arrived in the Alpha Centauri B system, Shuttle 932 detached itself from its parent spacecraft under the capable hands of Pilot Flynn Johannson. With a smooth spin towards its destination 932 started its slow burn towards the planet Verbena.

The shuttle trip was considered short amongst Apollo crew members, at only 10 hours from Jumpship to Planet-side, as it barely allowed enough time for a nap, meal, and maybe a movie if you were lucky.

As the shuttle moved slowly towards Verbena it allowed the passengers, at different times, to see the lush, beautiful planet of Verbena – with its super-sized oceans and forests – much like Earth itself – and Verbena itself – covering an area almost the size of Australia. At other times the passengers could see the bright red of Alpha Centauri B itself.

For the passengers on board that chose to use the In-Flight Headset, there were many choices - from the data-archives of Verbena, and Earth, to vid-shows or current information regarding flights, weather and tourist information.

On the main screen at the front of the shutter, movies played through-out the flight. This flight, passengers were treated movies from the early 2000's – the dark, cultish, Cloverfield, The House Bunny and Batman: The Dark Knight. Also playing – as on every Apollo flight – was the highest grossing film of all time, Shrek 229: Shrek saves Princess Fiona... for the 220th time.

At times throughout the journey, for those that listened closely, music could be heard coming from the shuttle cockpit. One song – turned up fairly loud – could be made out as:

dhJhyZ7lZyg

-

The trip was largely uneventful as the shuttle descended through the planet's atmosphere - a little bit of turbulence shook the shuttle and the lights flickered a few times, but nothing major - and sped across the forest tops, giving the passengers of 932 a perfect view of the landscape.


http://cn.dk.com/static/cs/cn/11/nf/features/rainforest/images/L-18n-022-RD094.jpg

As the city of Verbena came in to view – it's massive skyscrapers that towered past Earth's due to the planet's lower gravity - alerts sounded on each seat's ACD (Apollo Communication Device), signaling messages starting to be received.

-



-

Shuttle Seating Layout -


Cockpit
-
Screen

1 2
- -

3 4
- -

5 6
- -

7 8
- -

9 10
- -

| Exit

| Hostess seat

Kitchen
________

Seating:

Cockpit: Pilot Flynn Johansson
Seat 1: Madison Redford
Seat 2: Roan MacArthur
Seat 3: Blaine Parker
Seat 4: Lee Kindler
Seat 5: Radosava Vojska
Seat 6: Jayn Tucker
Seat 7: Lilibeth Abney
Seat 8: Fisher Dupont
Seat 9: Eli Anders
Seat 10: Ariel

[TheDashingRogue]

The cockpit was a crowded and untidy place filled with the smoke of incense, the rattling of various charms and bead decorations and the solitary dream catcher in front of the centre screen swayed slightly as the shuttle banked smoothly left, bringing the craft low over a meandering river surrounded by lush green forests.

The long haired pilot clenched his hands on the dual steering leavers, glancing down at the space below his seat. What did it mean by "...anyone"? he wondered. He wiped the sweat from his brow as the message vanished and, coughing slightly, flicked the intercom on. A smooth and Liberal voice, not unlike the revellers at the Galactic Woodstock Concert, spread throughout the various speakers and headsets of the shuttle cabin, as well as the music it was enjoying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is El Capitano speaking. Our asses will shortly be sipping margeritas and soaking up the Verbenan rays, the temperature is hot and the women are smoking. We are soaring at a height of 100 metres above the forest canopy, I'm a little higher myself..." the transmission paused for a second, the sound of exhaling breath creating a quiet fuzzing noise "...aaaand over to our right you can see the Jehnn-Varnun waterfall. Watch how the water flows over the rocks and down into the pool, I'm telling you man, that stuff is seriously wet, you know what I'm saying? Anyway, if you have a question or need some food then just holler. That little orange button above you brings your voice directly to yours truly. That little minx at the back in the red uniform is Juanita, she'll give you almost everything you want, just run it by me first ok?" he stifled a childish laugh "so do whatever man, kick back, relax and mellow. Adios amigos!"

Flynn flicked the transmission off and coughed, slightly unnerved by the message. "Autopilot, maintain course and speed", "Affirmative" came the digitized response. Brushing his hair back flynn knelt down and felt under the seat. The message was right, it was there, but he didn't believe he was going to actually need to use it. He drew out a handkerchief from his chest pocket and grabbed the end, pulling it down he heard the tape used to attach it stripping from the seat. Flynn drew the device back out, lowering his shaded aviators before peering at it closely. Its image weighing on his mind.

"Heavy man, too heavy.."

Depositing it into his sling bag wrapped in the handkerchief, the pilot returned to his seat. He brushed some of his hair back behind his ears and grabbed the sticks once again.

"Autopilot disengaged"

[ConfirmDeletion]

Leaving had been such a simple task. The maid had packed seven suitcases; the credit cards were hotlined to a loaded account just for this trip; the limo took her away; the driver took care of her baggage; the flight attendants gave her everything she would need. No hitch in the plans, no problem with the VJS, no real goodbye from her parents. Her Mother had simply wished her well and kissed her cheek at the door of their château and her Father was no where to be seen.

Jayn Ani Tucker sat in her high-class seat with its personal sink, space, information screen and more. Yet she stare down at her palm where a variety of candy colored pills rolled about, each going to prevent something or another. The real pair under suspect of her eyes was the largest, teasing aqua caplets. They were sleeping pills, heavy enough to last half the trip and her physician swore they would prevent VJS entirely. Gripping her fist closed Jayn dropped the lot down her throat with a splash of sparkling water. She would stay awake just long enough to experience the take off.

Not that she would remember it.

Arousing back to the world of reality the auburn haired girl’s brilliant silver eyes flickered open. A crash of blurred color and noise attacked her, disorientation punching her so hard in the gut if Jayn hadn’t been sitting she would have toppled instantly. Doubling over she clutched at her head, trying to block out the invading world around her. Seconds past, then minutes and soon nearly half an hour was polished off huddling against herself but it paid off for things had begun to straighten themselves out. By the time a voice cracked over the speakers above Jayn managed to sit up, feeling dreadful but nearly whole again.

The man speaking to the shuttle was the pilot…and Jayn was listening but her eyes were wandering, falling to the information screen in her seat. Words were scrawled there and she blinked to focus, a message form the Apollo Corp welcoming her to Verbena was what the digital words came out to be. Strangely though the screen gave a flash and a warning appeared. Jayn leaned closer to inspect the message that told her to be careful and trust no one but just as she did confirmed it’s own deletion and vanished as if it had never been.

Puzzled Jayn stared at the screen until a rough cough beside her snapped her attention upward. In the seat next to her own was an old man of about forty, whose fingers looked well-worn. The hair’s on her neck prickled and Jayn threw her gaze in another direction as the pilot gave a hearty “Adios amigos!” Scanning the shuttle’s passenger cabin Jayn found a variety of people, she being the youngest. Her silver irises glanced behind her row, instantly scratching her last assumption to bits. Jayn was one of the youngest.

In the seat directly behind her’s was a little boy with a million-and-one freckles, hair a similar shade and nature as her own, and puppy-dog brown eyes. Shying off she looked away, out the windows as the shuttle shook against turbulence. Yet the flickering lights and rattling immediately lost all affect as Jayn’s eyes took Verbena into view. Forests a thousand years long and old stretched out in every direction, their green more vibrant than anything Jayn had seen before. Life crawled in that place far below, it lived in the trees and scatted over the long snakes of mirrored rivers that cut through the terrain like it was snow in the summer. This place was unlike Earth, this was a new page for Jayn on her own to write. Her fingers pressed up against the window, eyes mesmerized by the wilderness. Then great spires that speared into the sky finally pulled her gaze away for the lush foliage, the human made city glaring out in stark beauty over the native land. Jayn had not seen it before but it was obvious it had been in view for some time, yet this thought didn’t matter. All disappointment, sickness, wariness, shyness and entrancement was forgotten as the young woman looked out at the place where she would finally be able to breath easy and enjoy her life.

[Maple]

Even the most indolent children suddenly become very energetic when called upon to sit still. That wisdom holds true in the case of Fisher Dupont, the youngest passenger on this routine journey between solar systems. The restless 11-year-old staved off boredom by kicking the seat in front of him, running back and forth down the aisle, and jumping out from behind his seat to startle his fellow passengers and attendants. When the time came to prepare for the hyperjump, an attendant named Tiffany dragged him back to his seat.

"Did you take those little pills like I told you to?" asked Tiffany. Fisher shook his head vigorously and she sighed. "Of course not. Well, sit still and hold tight, can you do that for me?" Fisher nodded reluctantly. "That's a good boy. If you need to be sick, use this, OK sweetheart?" She placed a foil-lined bag in his lap and patted it once for emphasis. "Alright honey, I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you."

Fisher made a face as the attendant turned and walked away, then slumped back in his seat and took to examining the bag. Glancing around cautiously, he opened it up and pulled it over his head. Sure enough, when he tore a couple of eye holes, it made the perfect makeshift mask.

Admiring his reflection in the window, Fisher noticed the stars outside change suddenly. Before he realized what was happening he felt the nauseating sensation of his body being torn up and sewn back together. Overcome by a sense of urgency, he jumped from his seat and ran down the aisle, only to crash on his knees and vomit in the middle of the floor. He stood there sobbing until Tiffany appeared, already armed with cleaning supplies. She cursed and pulled the soiled bag from his head, handing him a whole stack of fresh ones.

Upon returning to his seat, Fisher fell mercifully silent, aside from the occasional pathetic sniffle. Soon after an attendant arrived to herd him to the shuttle, and he trailed behind her with a slow and stumbling gait, still feeling dizzy and clutching his stack of bags. When he settled into his seat on the shuttle his face was pale and sickly. He peered intensely at the young lady seated next to him, his giant brown doe-eyes magnified by the lenses of his goggles.

There came no greeting or introduction; he simply said, "I might throw up on you."

Then he got to work making himself another mask.

[Gunnison]

The journey from Earth to Verbena had by no means been a short one. It took hours to get through departures, security and then boarding. More time still was taken in simply leaving Earth's atmosphere to dock with the Hyperspace ship that would be carrying them to Alpha Centauri. The Hyperspace travel was by far, on reflection, the most enjoyable part of the journey for Radosava Vojska. Having undertaken many before, he was use to the effects of Hyperspace travel and suffered very little compared to the first timers on board the shuttle.

On arrival at Alpha Centauri, they were informed that the journey to the surface would take up to 10 hours from orbit. A long time by any means, longer than he could care to stay awake for. Laying his sleep mask over his eyes and donning his ear plugs, Rado shut his eyes and tried to get some rest. He always found the gentle jostling of travelling to be soothing and it helped him to get to sleep, whether it was a car, a train or a shuttle. Sure enough, it took just minutes for him to drift off to sleep. As the red sun’s light washed over the shuttle interior, it made its way steadily to the surface of Verbena.

Rado awoke 4 hours later to the sound of good music and a peculiar voice, their sounds just getting through the ear plugs. Waking slowly, he removed the plugs just in time to catch “Relax and mellow. Adios amigos!” An odd pilot for sure, but judging by how well he had slept on the decent, a good one. Judging by the music he was playing and the decoration of the shuttle interior, the pilot was certainly a unique individual, one he had hoped he could get to know although he expected he would see very little of the passengers and indeed the pilot once they landed as they took their seperate ways. Taking off his sleep mask, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright ambient light of Verbena. He let off a sharp cough as he sat himself up in the chair, stretching his legs in the process. With his eyesight returning, Rado glanced around at the other passengers. To his right was a young girl, probably not even in her twenties, who, whilst undoubtedly pretty, was visibly ill from the effects of hyperspace travel. Taking his eyes away from the troubled young lady, he looked around at the other passengers and could see he was clearly of a very different generation to them. With his short hair, plain olive t-shirt and khaki cargo trousers Rado painted a very plain picture when compared to the other passengers who were wearing what he could only assume was fashionable for young people back on Earth. The youngest, sitting one row behind him, was wearing a large black overcoat and a pair of green goggles. He shrugged it off as what would probably be explained as “modern fashion” and hoped for the young boy’s sake it was just a phase that he would grow out of.

The other passengers were mostly hidden from view by the large flight chairs, so instead he turned his attention to the screen in front of him. Flickering and alerting him of a new message, he lightly tapped the “open” option. It was a welcome message from Apollo corp, informing them of the ETA and instructions on what to do upon arrival. Memorising the instructions, Rado was about to switch off the screen when another message appeared in his inbox. He opened the message to find no details of the sender, only a puzzling message addressed to himself. Taking a mental note of the contents, Rado thought for a second on what the message had said and went to take another look but the message had deleted itself from his inbox, leaving just the one message from Apollo corp. Obviously this was some sort of spam message or someone having a joke at the colony but he made a note of the message nonetheless. Shutting the screen down, he settled himself back into his seat, going over in his mind what the message could possibly have meant.

[L]

Blaine

Blaine Parker was always confident. Even in the face of daunting peril... which Parker had never actually been in... the Irishman could remain perfectly calm and wear a smile that would convince the devil to hand over hell itself.

That's why, when one of Alpha Apollo's attendants... a cute little thing with a cute little name. Tiffany? He couldn't remember now... when Tiffany offered him tablets to combat the nausea, Blaine had waved them away, winked at her and went to his compartment to prepare for the jump.

Of course it had been a mistake not taking the tablets. No sooner had they jumped in to Alpha Centauri B, than Blaine had reached over and retched in to the sink.

Luckily no-one had seen.

Now, hours later, he looked out the shuttle window and soaked in the beauty of Verbena's forests, the waterfalls. Truly a second Eden.

If only my job was going to be as serene... he thought.

He looked down as the ACD beeped, ran his eyes over the Welcoming Message and a private message then leaned back in his seat, letting out a happy sigh. He rolled his head to the side to look over the person sitting next to him. Not shaven, scraggly looking short blonde hair and untidy, though formal and glasses. Blaine guessed traveling salesman or some such. Definitely no executive businessman. He recalled the name from the in flight information system – Lee Kindler.

Leaning over his seat he stretched out his left hand to the man and spoke in his thick Irish dialect, 'Good flight we're having here – my name's Blaine, Blaine Parker. How are you finding the ride Mr. Kindler?'

[V]

It was one of those days, the ones where the numbness crept in and diverted any emotion for hours at a time. One where Lee could only stare into his hands and wait. He supposed he should feel excited at visited Verbena but Lee couldn't be bothered with it. Not at the moment flying over the planet itself.

The voice of the captain came over speakers, Lee only half listened. “Our asses will shortly be sipping margaritas-” at least that sounded appealing. He stared downward taking in few of the other words, something about a waterfall to the right brought him back. Lee thought to look but abandoned that idea as quickly as it came to him – he'd see it later probably. Maybe.

An alert from his window side armrest took all his thoughts away. Lee peered at the screen reading the message to pass a little time. He wasn't surprised with the basic welcoming message. Lee quickly glanced over a private message, he rubbed his eyes before resetting his glasses.

Afterward he returned to staring into his hands, unwilling to look out the window still. “Good flight we're having here – my name's Blaine, Blaine Parker. How are you finding the ride Mr. Kindler?” An Irish voice broke the silence from his left. Lee turned his head looking upon the man, his first glance at the other travelers since being seated on the shuttle. Blaine Parker was a dressed more nicely than Lee himself, something he was quick to note shaking the offered hand with his own.

“Fine,” he replied, voice quiet and withdrawn.

Lee's response was bland, he knew.

He looked down once again before replying politely, “and yourself?”

[roan]

It was three hours till her flight was to depart and Madison Redford was a nervous wreck already. The only pack of cigarettes she’d planned on brining with her this month long trip burned a hole in her pocket well before she left her apartment. The phone call Madison had recently ended left her pacing and sipping ice and vodka. ‘Not too much,’ the strawberry blonde young woman thought to herself as she packed a large suitcase with one quaking hand.

Never had Adi flow before and she had heard from friends that after the first jump would be a terrible sickness to follow after entering Alpha Centuari. Just the thought of dealing with the dreaded JVS had the editor beside herself with worry. Maybe I shouldn’t go? I can always cancel my flight, that’s no problem! I need to finish with Minny Prust’s ‘ Life Without The Toaster’, anyway; she’s been calling. Pinching the bridge of her slender nose Madison slumped on her plush bed and sighed, ice balls clanking against the glass of her drink.


Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the nicotine buzz, but surprisingly Adi did rather well with the jump. When their shuttle detached from the parent ship gave her a bit of a start but that was all. For the majority of the ride Madison found herself reading, and trying to block out most of the noise coming from the larger center screen in the cab. The funky vintage interior made her relaxed, dozing from time to time.

Awaking from a small nap the pilot’s voice could be heard from the speakers above and through the door frame in front of her. Never had she imagined that the first seat would be hers. I’m number one! Rang through her head, a smile curling pink lips. After the pilots funny and almost raunchy speech the young editor brought her long pale arms high above her head in a needed stretch. Right as her eyes spotted a greeting message on the smaller personal screen did the book she was reading fall from her hands above her head.. “Ooops!.”

“I’m so sor-“ Madison began to say to whomever sat behind her as she twisted her figure around quickly, gray-green eyes widening a little at the extremely handsome face that looked back at her. “-ry. Heh.” Glancing at the man with glasses sitting next to him Madison smiled politely, a peach blush coloring her cheeks, feeling silly for dropping her book. “’Scuse me gentlemen, but might I have that back? “ When the book would grace her hands again the young woman introduced herself, “My name’s Madison Redford or jus’ call me Adi. Again, sorry if I disturbed you two.”

[Sigma]

In the spilt seconds the ship jumped from Sol to Alpha Centari B, Eli felt constantly nervous from the beginning, it was his first flight after all, and the anti-nausea tablets helped slightly. At least he didn't vomit, that he was thankful for, especially since he was next to a very attractive black-haired woman. his attention was then focused on the ACD when a new message came flashing. after reading what was in it, he was confused to it's meaning. "Probably nothing serious...I hope at least..." he thought to himself and shook the thought out of his mind and decided to familiarize with the woman next to him.

He turned with a smile and greeted her. "Hello miss." he said. "So what brings someone like yourself all the way out here? the name's Eli by the way."

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth



Lilibeth was all set for the ten hour descent to Verbena. She was pretty much always ready to kill some time, with a collection of portable gadgets constantly about her person, the odd exception here being that she was killing a specific amount of time for a specific reason. She made her way onto the shuttle, checking her wrist apparatus to confirm which seat she was to take; number seven, close to the back. This sat just fine with her, mostly because she liked to people watch. Even though people watching would mostly be limited to the back of heads, she still liked to know where people were. Old habits died hard.

When Lilibeth got to her spot, the seat next to hers was still empty. She hoped the seat wouldn’t stay empty, because she loved meeting new people. It would help to ease the lengthy flight, and maybe give her an interesting connection while she made her stay on the much talked about planet. Before putting on a sunny disposition, however, Lilibeth wanted to first set up her station. She tucked her carry-on side bag between her knees, pulling out a handheld that she’d been favouring lately and sticking it in her sweater pocket, as well as a small case that was zipped into its own compartment.

From this case she retrieved a small set of lenses, much like the clip-on sunglasses that had been all the rage a couple of centuries back, that she had personally modified. These clipped onto her own vintage frames in a much less noticeable fashion and connected to the miniature computer at her wrist by way of a conspicuous red wire. The accessory was part for show, and part for use as a display screen for her electronics. She didn’t use it for much, because it wasn’t too clear, and it was useless for complicated tasks. It was handmade; what more could she expect?

There was also the manner of the books that she kept with her at all times. They weren’t seen around quite so often anymore, what with the convenience of electronic reading material and compact reading devices. But Lilibeth enjoyed the feeling of a book in her hands, and the experience of turning a physical page. When all was stowed away, made convenient, and generally where it should be, Lilibeth sat back. One thing she liked about travelling was the amount of time that she got to simply sit and go somewhere without effort. While she wasn’t intentionally going anywhere, it couldn’t be argued that she wasn’t ‘moving foreward’ in life.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of travel. In fact, she’d purposely gotten the hang of most all motion and travel sickness, to the point that she could read one of her precious books while the change occurred, though she’d often find that she’d skipped a phrase. ‘Jumped ahead’, if you will. As it was, she set about peering through the closest window, closely watching the shift in the stars as the shuttle completely changed places. That slight rock to her frame was almost pleasing at this point, having made many minor jumps in the past on trips with her mother.

Lilibeth sat about idly poking at her wrist apparatus. When the message from the Apollo Corp took over the screen ahead of her, she wasn’t surprised. Pushing aside the in-flight headphones, she skimmed it, a standard welcome and thank you for using their services. Lilibeth was, however, surprised by the ping signaling the arrival of a personal message, alerting her by way of a flashing envelope icon in the bottom-left corner of her extra lenses. The message, she supposed, was simple enough:

“Be Careful. City isn't safe. Don't trust the others – will be in touch.”

Huh. There was no address. What she had time to access, which she supposed to be sender information, was encrypted, by the look of it. If this message was sent in all seriousness, and no one was to be trusted, how, exactly, did this sender expect her to trust them? Could they not be the initiator of this alleged danger? Lilibeth pondered this for a split second when, with a quite ping, the message was completely removed from her hardware. That quickly the message was gone, and her eye-screen was clear again, alerting her to the fact that a flight attendant had just deposited a young boy into the seat next to her. Great. As much as Lilibeth loved kids, and however much they apparently loved her, she’d never been forced to sit by one for hours on end, and she could hardly be expected to have an innovative conversation with someone so young. Perhaps someone in the surrounding seating arrangement would strike up a conversation with her. If not, she’d just have to make this work.

When Lilibeth looked over him, she was met by an unexpectedly intense stare, made even more so by the slight magnifying properties of his goggles. She had to stifle a smile and a laugh, meeting his expression in all seriousness. He was thankfully immune to her child-like charm at the moment, smelling of bile and sniffing dramatically.

"I might throw up on you,” he kindly informed her, and a small snort escaped Lilibeth’s control. He set about cutting holes into one of his bags, meant for exactly this situation, and Lilibeth went to make a comment on this when the ACD came to life, Captain Johannson greeting the passengers. The captain concluded his speech with a friendly goodbye, and Lilibeth felt her mouth twisting down in confusion.

“Sounds like a nice guy. Very reassuring.” Lilibeth commented sarcastically to no one in particular. She cast a sideways glance at the boy in the neighbouring seat, who was eyeing his newly-fashioned bag in a way that made it clear that it was meant to be a mask. “You know,” she told him casually, “That won’t exactly help you much when the time comes to use it.”

[Maple]

“That won’t exactly help you much when the time comes to use it.”

Fisher ignored the neighborly advice of his seatmate and pulled the new mask over his head, twisting it around to position the eye holes just right. He then sunk down in his seat, placed his hands on his groaning stomach, and silently drifted off to sleep.

The boy neither stirred nor snored, nestled deep in a peaceful slumber. The stewardess smiled with utmost relief when she stopped by to check on him. She winked at Lilibeth and moved on without a word.

Two hours later, Fisher awoke startled and ripped the bag from his head. The healthy glow had returned to his cheeks, flushed red like a warning signal. He peered around the cabin suspiciously, then slid the mask back on, like a turtle retreating into its shell. Beside him the girl was reading an old-fashioned book, and he stared at her for a minute before asking in a muffled voice, "What is that?"

[Familiar]

Never before in his life had Roan been quite so happy to have Gavin as a manager. Sure, the man was insane, there was very little doubt left in Roan's mind about that particular fact, but there were instances where Gavin's particular brand of insanity turned out to be quite useful. As it turned out the 'special jump training' was one of those instances. The reasoning behind it was simple enough; a celebrity can't afford to be seen getting sick by the public as it lowers their image in the eyes of their fans. There were two solutions to this problem, one could either travel in private, as the rest of the cast were doing, or one could learn to overcome the sickness. Realizing this fact, Gavin had suggested renting out a jump capable ship for a day and simply beating Roan's atoms into a state of submission.

Sure, it had been a bad day; it had been a really, really bad day, but that day was over now. Today's jump went just about as smooth as it was possible to go, Roan barely flinching as the ship travelled, so it was fairly apparent that the training had paid off. As they slowed and started their long descent into orbit Roan allowed himself a small smile as listened to the, relative, silence of the shuttle. One thing that he had noticed about actors over the course of his career, they all loved to be the centre of attention which was fairly obvious, it was why they got into the business after all. That said however, it didn't make being stuck in a room with the preening lot of them any less aggravating.

No, Roan much preferred to travel with ordinary people. Sure, they could have their flaws, but at the very least their flaws varied somewhat. Take for instance the young boy, vomiting in the aisle, or the young woman next to him dropping her book on top of some poor passenger's head. Nobody was perfect, but it was the flaws that made them interesting. He noticed his phone buzz, cutting off his train of thought. The first message was fairly normal, if boring. The second was more sinister in nature. For a second he was worried before he hit upon the thought it might be something set up by Gavin, a bit of character acting being forced upon him. Sure, it seemed like a rather odd message to send for a drama, but whatever. Roan put the message out of his mind for now, he had more pressing concerns. 'Might as well meet some new people...'

Roan turned to the book dropping woman next to him, was it rude to cut in? Nah. Besides, he was bored.... "Good book I take it, Ms. Redford?" Roan said with a wide grin. "Name's Roan, Roan MacArthur. Nice to meet ya."

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth





The boy settled down to sleep next to her, without any visible acknowledgment of what she'd said. Lilibeth shrugged it off, as he'd clearly been sick already, and he probably just needed to rejuvenate. She eased back into her seat, straightening her dark skirt over her dull-green tights, and pulled her hand-held from her pocket. She started it up, but by the time she got to the title screen she found that she really had no desire to play at all.

Sighing, she slid the device back into her pocket. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the window, an endless view of lush, beautiful terrain, a glimpse of a powerful looking waterfall, a thriving, living environment. These things she saw in glimpses when her side was in a favourable position, and she stared idly for a while. The thickly populated, permanently settled cities that she hailed from could in no way measure up. She'd seen things in traveling, of course, and anyone had access to information on any exotic thing that took their fancy. But actually traveling to somewhere so unknown and seeing it yourself was something that she felt privileged to be able to do.

If Palindrome took her on, then her imagination would have to be honed. She needed new sights for her mind to grow on, and no amount of experience in this field would make up for actually being there and seeing it. Whatever it happened to be.

Having taken in the view, Lilibeth returned her attention to the inside of the shuttle. She wasn't yet relaxed enough to sleep, and so she reached down into her carry-on, hand falling on her latest book. The boy next to her let out a quiet snore, shifting minutely in his seat. She smiled slightly, shaking her head, wondering if he could properly breath with that bag over his face, and pulled the book into her lap, leaning back again.

When her neighbour suddenly jumped awake, pulling the bag from his head, Lilibeth startled violently. She held the book more firmly, head directed to the pages, while eying the boy next to her. He looked much better than he had before, looking suspiciously around at everyone in the cabin and sliding the bag back onto his head. Lilibeth shook her head incredulously, and when he turned back to her she quickly returned her attention to the words in the book.

She worried her lower lip with her teeth, feeling his eyes on her. After a moment, he spoke, slightly muffled by the bag still over his face, "What's that?"

Lilibeth turned to him with a confused smile, brows furrowed, and closed her book, holding it up.

"This?" He continued to stare, so she supposed that was indeed what he'd meant, "It's just a traditional book."

[Maple]

"It's just a traditional book."

Fisher rolled his eyes. The rest of his face was hidden, but it was clear just from his tone of voice that he was scowling.

"Of course I know THAT. I've seen LOTS of books. I've been to the old library in Toronto, and they have this one book that's like two hundred years old and they keep it in a glass case so you can't even check it out or read it. It's stupid if you ask me. Which book is that?"

He angled his head to get a better look at it, but the bag shifted to block his vision and he had to straighten it again. Still he couldn't see the title, as the front cover was turned away from him.

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth





"Oh," Lilibeth sighed, greatly relieved. She hadn't yet met a kid who didn't know what a book was, and she never hoped to. Some who'd never seen a real one, sure, but electronic reading material couldn't be that prominent. "This is a pretty old story. It's a reprint, of course, but it's called Jane Eyre." She turned the book so that he could see the front cover. "I have a couple of other books, too. Don't know how interested you'd be."

Lilibeth nudged unthinkingly at the bag at her feet. Plenty of kids liked being talked to seriously, and she was pretty sure that this kid wanted to be taken seriously, too. She knew that, at the very least, she wouldn't want anyone cooing at her all of the time.

[Maple]

Fisher examined the book's cover closely as it came into view, but quickly lost all interest.

"I have a couple of other books, too," said the young woman. "Don't know how interested you'd be."

"No thank you. I don't like girl books," Fisher replied. He paused to think for a moment, then continued, "Actually I don't like books at all unless they have a lot of fighting, or explosions, stuff like that. My dad is a soldier for the Apollo Corp, you know. He's a Commander. He's probably killed a lot of people." He spoke nonchalantly, like someone reading a grocery list. "I haven't killed anyone... yet."

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth




Shrugging one shoulder, Lilibeth set the book down onto her lap. She also had Hitchhiker's Guide and Peter Pan, but there was no need to trail those out. Head tilted to the side, she smiled at the boy. 'I haven't killed anyone... yet.' She wondered what he meant to do with himself later in life.

"A Commander, eh? That's cool." She pulled her handheld out of her pocket for a second time, offering it to him, "This game has plenty of fighting and explosions, if you're interested."

She figured that if she could keep the kid occupied, nothing too troublesome would arise. He had an overtly energetic look about him, and she didn't know if he would cause any issues for the remaining hours of the flight.

[Maple]

"A Commander, eh? That's cool."

Fisher shrugged, displaying neither pride nor shame. He examined the proffered device and shook his head. "Nah, mine's better." He bent over to unzip the red backpack which the attendant had stowed beneath his seat. Rooting around for a moment, he produced his own handheld and settled back down. "I'm almost to level 78 in Wizard Wars. You don't even get any decent spells until level 80. It's like some kinda scam to make you keep playing it."

Apparently the scam worked, because Fisher spent most of the remainder of the trip with his eyes glued to the small screen of his handheld. He took one bathroom break, seizing the opportunity to interrogate the stewardess about the various snack options before returning to his seat hefting three candy bars and a can of soda, which he skillfully consumed while playing Wizard Wars one-handed. His appetite had recovered nicely from the bout of illness, it seemed.

He finally emerged from his trance when the captain's voice came over the intercom to inform the passengers they were nearing their destination. Ignoring the glib announcement, Fisher leaned forward to stare out the window, lifting his mask to better glimpse the scenery. "It looks just like the world map from Final Fantasy XCVIII!" he observed.

Fueled by youthful energy, excitement, and an unhealthy amount of sugar, the boy began swinging his skinny legs back and forth, incidentally kicking the seat in front of him.

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth




"If you say so," Lilibeth brought her handheld back to herself. She doubted that his portable was better, since being up-to-date in all that was gaming was basically her life. But she didn't know about Wizard Wars; reviews aside, she'd never played it. In any case, he was preoccupied. With no other parental figure around, Lilibeth felt as though she should keep an eye on him, just while they were on the shuttle. Not that she was taking some sort of responsibility for the kid. Hopefully she'd have her own things to do once they'd landed, but while he was seated next to her she didn't want him bringing in any trouble.

Lilibeth cast around for another possible conversation, but she never knew how to cut into one. Directly in front of her was a tough looking man and a young woman just waking up from a drug-induced sleep, and behind her were a slightly nervous man and his quiet neighbour. Biting on her lip, Lilibeth instead decided to fiddle with her wrist apparatus, hardly noticing when the young boy next to her took his bathroom break, or the snacks he'd brought back with him. He seemed fine, and luckily Lilibeth herself didn't generally need food or restroom breaks whilst traveling.

"It looks just like the world map from Final Fantasy XCVII!" Her neighbour exclaimed, making her jump for a second time. She glanced out of her own window, seeing something of the ninety eighth Square Enix title in the landscape, now that he'd said it. Well, this sort of research was partially why she was here.

Twisting the chord connecting her glasses to her minicomputer, she gazed numbly at the miniature screen. Maybe she'd read something more modern... Idly scrolling through her electronic catalog, Lilibeth tried to tune out the sound of the kid's feet against the chair in front of him.

[L]

“Fine,” he replied, voice quiet and withdrawn. He looked down once again before replying politely, “and yourself?”

"Oh, excellent of course Mr Kindler. Life couldn't be better,' Blaine maintained his picture perfect smile, no fault at all, 'the jump was a little rough. I have to say it's exactly like they describe it. But I don't see myself doing that too often. Taking over a job on Verbena, hopefully permanently. If you ever get a chance, stop by our offices'

Blaine pulled out a clear card, the word Xenitec scribbled on it. On the back, a little map that moved as the card moved, showed where the offices for Xenitec were on Verbena.

Blaine was about to continue as a book landed directly in his lap. He jumped slightly – no one expects a book to fall out of thin air -

“I’m so sor-“ the voice came, before he even saw the face. The girl – an attractive red head poked her head over the seat. “-ry. Heh.

She paused, then spoke again '’Scuse me gentlemen, but might I have that back?'

Blaine smiled, retrieved the book and handed it to her.

“My name’s Madison Redford or jus’ call me Adi. Again, sorry if I disturbed you two.”

Blaine shook his head. 'Don't concern yourself Ms Madison. Mr Kindler and I were just introducing ourselves. Tell me,' he looked at Lee, then Madison, 'how did you both find the trip? Is this your first time as well?'

[roan]

Mr. Tall and Dark introduced the quiet man seated next to him as a Mr. Kindle, the name for some reason ringing a bell. It wouldn’t come to her at the moment so she let the notion go from her mind as the man possessing a thick Irish accent went on.

“Tell me, how do you find the trip? Is this your first trip as well.”

When Kindler did not immediately chime in Adi answered, almost saying ‘aye’ to the man before catching herself mentally. That would have been embarrassing.

“The trip so far has been great. And for me I’ve never traveled out-“

Before Madison could finish her sentence the young man sitting next to her the entire trip spoke, “Good book I must take it, Ms. Redford. My Names Roan, Roan MacAuthor.”

Turning her green-gray orbs upon the brown-haired man she frowned slight in thought before a large smile brightened her features. “Wait, you’re that actor! I’ve read about you in BrightStars magazine.”

Turning attention to Mr. Steamy and the quiet almost serious looking Mr. Kindler she pronounced, “Looks like we have a celebrity on board.” With a gesture of her hand Madison look to younger man, “Roan, this is Mr. Kindler. And this is… well I never did catch your name, sir,” She spoke to the irish man.

[V]

“The jump was a little rough. I have to say it's exactly like they describe it.” Lee nodded having thought the same thing earlier, sometimes such things helped Lee remember he was alive. “But I don't see myself doing that too often. Taking over a job on Verbena, hopefully permanently. If you ever get a chance, stop by our offices.” Blaine handed him a card, the word Xenitec flashing before his eyes. Lee was unfamiliar with the company but placed the card into his pocket after a quick glance to the map. Something to think about later.

Lee looked up to see a book fall into Blaine's lap, he gave a faint smile to the man. An attract- a woman with red hair peered over the seat in front of Blaine, “'Scuse me gentlemen, but might I have that back?” She quickly apologized and introduced herself as Madison Redford, or Adi, Lee nodded his head in welcome.

*Blaine introduced Lee and steered the conversation asking, “how did you both find the trip? Is this your first time as well?” Lee was thankful that Madison replied before him, his reply dead in his mouth but just as well – it would have been as informative as his earlier reply. The man, 'Roan MacAuthor,' in front of Lee interrupted Madison before she could finish.

“Wait, you're that actor!”

Lee hadn't heard of him, did he ever? He looked downward to his shabby clothing, more self aware of his appearance then with Blaine and Madison. She introduced the actor to Lee before faltering, “And this is… well I never did catch your name, sir.”

“Blaine Parker,” Lee answered for him, surprising himself, “it's nice to meet you all. But I think I'm going to take a look out the window while I can.” He excused himself and peered out the window to the right taking in the landscapes of Verbena for the first time.

[Kris]

Ariel wished the ride could be more pleasant but it wasn't. Everything that could go wrong did. She woke up late, missed the drive and had to bother a friend to drive her since she knew she can't keep her mother's car near the port, because she would be absent for a long while. On the way there she remembered that she forgot one bag at home and since she didn't want to drive all the way back she thought her father will take care of things when she got there.

Of course that will mean she will have to ask money from him. She promised herself she wouldn't take another coin from him, but now the task seemed pretty hard since all of her cloths were in that forgotten bag.

She finally found herself before the shuttle, thanking the lord above, if he was indeed there (The scientists were still not able to dismiss its existence) for getting her on time before the depart (then again her friend did drive fast....).

Just aboard, when she was called to buckle herself up did she recall that she was pretty afraid of this jumping travel deal. She survived it in one piece the other two times she went to visit her father, but who knows?

Something can still go wrong, no? What if her hand, for example, will end up on another place in the universe, or worst, what if she, as in whole, arrive at some deep space with no air?!

She gasped and took breath as she forgot that her thoughts were still far from reality. She was so busy with going over and over on evil scenarios that she hadn't notice the red light that burst of her ethereal projected I-Pod PC (V. 545 mind you), that wished to note her of some notification.

She reached her hands for the sleeping pills. She hated to use drugs of any-kind, thinking the body will be strong enough on it's own, but like the last time, the fears were about to kill her. Sleep seems better then death.

***

Time passed and Ariel awoke. By the jumping and changes of surroundings within her glass windows she knew she was about to reach her destination. The pilot began to talk but she was busy checking her body, making sure each piece was in place.

"Well, that wasn't so bad”, Ariel told herself, “It didn't go wrong after all”

Ariel then noticed the red light. She moved her fingers and clicked on the air, each move allowing her to get into different window upon the projected screen. There was a message there for her.

Reading it carefully she felt the cold sweat getting behind her nape.

"….I might have spoken too soon...”.

[L]

The trip towards Verbena City was largely uneventful. The passengers went about their small talk – some sitting silently in thought, others mingled – ignoring their parents never-ending advise about stranger danger - and the 20 or so minutes over the lush landscape towards the city passed quickly.

Then, slowly, the massive skyscrapers that marked their final approach to the planet's main city started to rise out of the midst of unending forest like metal guardians.

The shuttle made it's way towards the outskirts of the city, skimming in low across the forests now, but as yet – mere minutes out – there had been no contact from Verbena Space Port in regards to landing clearance.

In fact, there had been no contact from Verbena City in the entire flight en route.

Just as the shuttle began to pass over the outskirts of the city, the shuttles systems started to malfunction. At first it was just lights flickering. The front screen showed strange images briefly, then went blank. Then the engine sputtered. Stopped completely for a few tense seconds before restarting.

As suddenly as it had started, the malfunctions ceased and the shuttle continued towards the city like nothing had happened.

The peace lasted only a few brief minutes.

Without warning the craft rocked hard, jolting everyone in their seats. Inside the shuttle and out, blue electrical sparks lit up the craft like a Christmas tree. In the shuttle's cockpit electrical sparks danced in and out of the craft's systems, causing some to fry, others to die – a small screen in the back of the compartment blew from the overload of power.

Then the inside of the shuttle went dead and went in to free fall, nosediving towards the now rapidly approaching Space Port and the passengers, personal luggage and other loose ends were tossed about the compartment.

The stewardess, at the back of the craft near her jump seat, had no chance of getting to her seat, and as it started to nose dive, was flung down the isle, screaming as she tried to clutch on to something – anything – to stop her fall.

Unfortunately her attempts failed, and as she hit the front of the compartment, her screams suddenly ceased. She lay motionless against the ruined screen, her head bent at an awkward angle that no-one could survive.

And the shuttle continued to plummet towards the rough, unyielding, Space Port tarmac.

[TheDashingRogue]

The shuttle cockpit was a mess. The only way the scene could possibly be more chaotic was if the emergency sirens had been playing, but they'd fried after a 2 second transmission. The baleful red glow of the emergency lighting pitched the cockpit into a hellish scene, sparks from the display systems and overhead switches danced over the control panel and shattered glass from surged holographic screens lay scattered around the floor.

"Verbena Tower this is Apollo Shuttle 932, do you read? Over."

The long haired pilot fought with the dual-control joysticks as the craft juddered, its trajectory reaching an alarmingly steep descent.

"Verbena Tower we have lost all automatics and the electrics are fried. The receiver might be fried so I can't read you; the ship's experienced some kind of major malfunction. If you can read me then prep an emergency landing team, we're coming in hot and steep! Expect critical condition casualties, over."

The clear screen at the head of the craft was a blur of various structures and trees as the shuttle neared its final destination, the grey expanse of the space port runway neared with each second.

Come on, you son of a bitch, daddy's treated you well all these years, it's time to repay the favour...

The entire craft was juddering, the inertial stabilisers having been blown in the malfunction. Auto-correction from the onboard computer was also out; the landing was now a matter of kinetic energy versus the opposing force of the ground. Flynn wrestled the craft into a straight-ish line overlooking the tarmac, his face contorted through the strain. He slammed his fist down on the emergency procedure switch, a purely manual system separate from the ship that best ensured the survival of the crew in a situation such as this. A simple radio intercom between the two compartments opened as the red glow of the emergency lighting kicked in, hissing with low static. The pilot spoke with a mix of anticipation and solemn, matter-of-fact plainness.

"Right, listen up ladies and gents. I know it sucks and all, but the shit's hit the fan and we're going down hard. You should feel your buckles tightening and the head supports constricting your movement, this is so you don't snap like a twig on impact" The straps tightened with a zipping sound, bringing the already panicked passengers tightly against their seats as two padded supports tightened around the sides of their heads. An empty harness tightened around a vacant seat at the back of the craft, its occupant inhumanly twisted towards the side of the craft. "Now the windows are gonna close up so you don't get a chunk of glass in the eye or a load of plasma backwash from the engines. Just try to relax." Metal shutters snapped down over the oval windows, clanging loudly with each shutter's decent. "We'll be touching down in just a moment, so brace yourself and don't even think of throwing up inside my ship!" shouted Flynn, strain bearing heavily on his voice "I'll see you on the other side amigos!"

An explosion in the upper part of the cockpit blinded the pilot for a moment as he recoiled, shielding his eyes from the sparks. The previously acceptable flight path was long gone, the short moment of absence from the controls having caused a major diversion. The craft was now veering towards the side of the space port, amongst several plastic freight containers and light aircraft. As the craft bore down towards the collection of derelict containers and aircraft the pilot shut his eyes as he killed what little engines were still working and the bottom of the shuttle began to tear against the tarmac floor.

As the nose hit the floor it crumpled, emitting a deafening groan throughout the ship, then lifted again as the belly slapped against the rough floor. A cacophony of scraping and banging noises rolled throughout the cabin as it barrelled through container after container, craft after craft. From the outside, the battered ship had lost many of its aerodynamic qualities, stability fins having been sheared off by the many obstacles in its path, and a multitude of glowing scrapes and scars where metal had struck metal. On the inside, the passengers were thrown about their harnesses, luggage spilling and flying about the cabin and the many decorations in the cockpit shattering and snapping from their fixings, wooden beads buzzing about like flies. For what seemed like an eternity to those inside, the craft was propelled through obstacle after obstacle, the impacts reducing the outer shell to nothing more than scrap, the inner housing had started to be struck and the terrifying squealing and scraping had gotten louder. The underside of the craft burst into flames as it eventually slowed, the pitted trench of its trajectory evidence of the horrific crash, as too were the many wrecks of smaller aircraft and freight containers.

Fast, almost too fast, the shuttle impacted into the side of one of the spaceport's main terminals, the hardened cockpit punching a hole through the wall. The force of the impact bringing the craft to an almost immediate halt, with only the back third of the craft remaining outside of the terminal. The hole had been plugged by the back end of the burning wreckage, light fixtures and power cable sparked from the structural damage. The wall creaking under strain. Several luggage bags had been crushed under the shuttles, their contents strewn about the shattered marble floor or floating gently down through the ember filled air. Localised fires had sprung up due to plasma wash from the engines and several waiting seats and ornamental plants were ablaze.

Flynn opened his eyes hazily, small amounts of smoke clouding his vision. He haphazardly reached for his re-breather and fitted the elastic straps around his head, leaning back as he breathed the filtered air. He looked down to his right and pulled on a red leaver surrounded by black and yellow hazard signs. The shuttle hissed and bucked as a single door on the left shot away from the craft, flying a short distance before crashing against the hard floor. A pathetic inflatable evacuation slide extended from the doorway before bursting from the glowing heat of the underbelly, it lay shrivelled across the wreckage below. The harnesses of the passengers disengaged, clicking softly as the buckles fell to their sides. Flynn slumped forwards momentarily before leaning backwards again; he glanced out of the shattered screen before him with blurred vision. As the image before him came into focus he chuckled softly. There, only a metre or so away, were the smiling faces of a picturesque family on vacation above a flowery message.

Welcome to Verbena

Still smiling, the dishevelled pilot stood slowly, using his seat to steady himself as he turned to face the cockpit doorway. He pulled the manual operating handle and threw his weight against the door with his shoulder. It ground slowly open towards the cabin. Flynn stumbled through the exterior doorway, falling down the small height between the deck and the floor. He landed roughly on his hands and knees and crumpled into a heap, rolling away from the searing heat of the underbelly over the shrivelled plastic of the evacuation slide he came to an exhausted stop.

The pilot's head lolled to the side, inspecting the heavily damaged, yet not totally destroyed craft and hoped his efforts had not been in vain.

With a final sigh and a slowed blink, the pilot collapsed.

[Familiar]

"...n't you die now!" Roan snapped out of his reverie mid-sentence, dragging the comatose body of the pilot across the room, away from the still smoking shuttle-craft. "You got us out of there alive, and believe me when I say that I am not the type of man to owe people favours. You die on me and I swear to God I'll kill you myself just for leaving me in debt. Just stay alive." His mouth continued to move, as did his legs, largely on their own. Roan's true mind was still processing what had just finished happening moments ago, far away from the panicked crowds of the terminal or the man in his arms.

The initial stages of the crash were chaos, sheer chaos. Sparks flying, terminals exploding. The waitress fell past him and landed there at what should have been at the front of the cabin, dead, just a few feet in front of his face. From this distance every single splinter of bone in her neck was visible, every twisted joint on her body stood out in stark relief; her eyes were quite unlike anything Roan had ever seen before. They were truly dead, cold, clouded. The woman that had served them just a few minutes before was now nothing more than a hunk of meat.

Some part of his mind had picked up on what the pilot was saying, but for the most part it was lost in the noise and the chaos of the cabin. Despite the chaos though, there really wasn't much to do. His life was well and truly out of his hands, it lay in the fickle hands of luck and in the skill of his pilot. "... you on the other side amigos!" "Well, it's nice to know you can still keep a sense of humour about this. I really don't know whether to be heartened by that or disturbed."

While objectively Roan knew that the fall could not have taken long, it seemed like an eternity. Flickering lights, loud noises and no way to gauge time resulted in a psychological void. With the windows closed and the view-screens destroyed he had no idea how far they were from the ground, or how fast they were falling. It came as a surprise to him then when they hit the ground. Hard.

Even without sight Roan could feel the impacts as the craft smashed its way though the airport, could hear the screeching as the bottom of the ship dragged its way across the tarmac. When the the door was ripped off by the shuttle's final stop Roan was already on his feet. This shuttle was a bomb, just waiting to go off. First things first, the pilot was out cold, get him out of here. Grabbing pilot by the scruffs of his shirt Roan stuck the man's head between his forearms Roan began to pull the comatose man out of the wreck.

It wasn't log after that however that he was back into the shuttle again. People were still coming out, and Roan would be damned if he didn't try to do something to help. "Yell if you need help. I'll get you out of here." He would do whatever he could, he wasn't going to let anyone else die here if he could help it. Playing the big damned hero was much less glamorous in real life than it was on the silver screen, but it was so much more rewarding.

[Flex]

For some reason, for which no rational explanations existed, Vicky seemed to have a talent for attracting absolute morons; take all the unprofessional partners she had landed herself during her short stint in the police force--they had all been despicable, and her last had been no exception. Xavier Handler--her take on his faux-modern and laughable name was irrelevant--had done nothing but lounge around with a stupid grin on his face and acknowledge the fact that he was a lazy bastard with some sort of moronic pride. How he even kept a job was a mystery, though Vicky had her suspicions; bribery, he had been bribing someone. Either that, or sexual favours.

“I can’t come close to even explaining just how close I am to… just marching back to his apartment and… oh, I don’t know, castrating him, I guess,” Vicky had told a friend, prior to her flight, simpering into a communications device dangling from her ear. “I mean…” she had paused for a second, glancing at the early morning skyline--it was as if the entire horizon had been quenched of colour; grey, bleak and undeniably dead--“I would be doing this entire planet a favour.” And with a roll of her eyes, she had pulled out the communications device, abruptly ending the conversation.

Now, as she reclined in the swanky Apollo Alpha, Vicky couldn’t help but smirk--the bastard was entirely deserving of such a fate, and the only thing that had really ever stopped her from entering the kid’s apartment and going all rabid on him had been the constant nagging suspicion that he was screwing the brains out of some shameless prostitute and catching him in the nude was the last thing she needed; losing her job sounded so much better than spending a lifetime in the trauma ward of some rundown hospital. So, no castration. Wasn’t castration equivalent to seeing him naked, anyway? Definitely no castration.

‘BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.’

Vicky shot a glare at her communications device as it gave off a series of beeps; ‘MUM’ flashing across its screen. She rolled her eyes, no surprise there, either; her mother had made a habit out of sending her a volley of incoherent voice messages each day and in turn, Vicky had made a habit out of deleting them completely unread. They all consisted of the same generic message anyway; ‘Vicky Christina, you have ruined your life; you are a failure; get your act together, etc.’, and to an extent, that was true--she had run off with a first-class-loser, back when she was too young to realise that the object of her love was a complete douche, and then--tah-dah!--she had ruined her life, settling for a crappy job and working alongside Xavier Handler, only to lose her license and settle for an even crappier job.

In a way, she considered this change of location as a new page in her rather unfortunate life; a way to start afresh. No bad choices, no bad influences, no unhealthy workplace environments and definitely no Xavier Handler.

“Ladies, this is El Capitano speaking,” said the pilot over intercom. He then proceeded with a hackneyed, pretentiously easygoing commentary that was abundant in cliches and moments of complete stupidity (i.e. describing a waterfall as ‘seriously wet’). Vicky’s attention wavered as she searched for information worth pocketing before tuning out completely. Her attention was taken up by more serious matters, anyway, like the demand for police officers in Verbena--though she had heard the occupation was in high demand, she would only really know until she got there, especially with her meager qualifications and lack of a license.

The infamous jump--which she had heard made giving birth feel like getting a massage--was something she never hoped to experience again; a once-in-a-lifetime extravaganza with extra emphasis on ‘ONCE’. The ordeal left her shivering and disoriented, though she was glad that she hadn’t scrambled to the floor vomiting, like the youngster had.

But all-in-all, the trip was fairly uneventful; she watched a screening of The House Bunny starring Academy Award-winner Anna Faris; she glanced around the shuttle of the Apollo Alpha and noted her traveling companions--a beautiful but stressed woman, the bratty kid from before, the bookish lady next to him, a kid who looked fresh out of high school, a few very sophisticated-looking men and women and an actor whose name she couldn’t quite recall--one of those trendy males with squeaky clean good-looks.

She watched snippets of Cloverfield and listened in on several of the conversations around her, catching various phrases: “Good book I take it, Miss Reford?”, “I haven’t killed anyone… yet”, “…the jump was a little rough…”

She then dozed off and woke up to an alarm bell in the form of a crashing plane.

[roan]

The realization that something was terrible wrong on hit when the stewardess came flying down the center aisle to slam into the front of the cabin. Madison could only scream in her horror, never before seeing such a gruesome thing. The only dead person she’d seen in her life was her adopted mother in her casket; even then she was made up and dressed. Blood flew, bones audibly cracked and splintered. It was terrible.

Bile rose to Madison’s pale throat and burned pert nose, trying to keep the crackers and cheese she’d nibbled on before the flight down. The pilot was speaking to the passengers but panic created a ringing in the red-haired editor’s ears. All she understood from what he spoke was that the plane was crashing.
“I’m going to die, I’m going to die.” With her palms the young woman covered her face, closing those grey-green eyes tight. Adi didn’t want to see death staring her in the face. A lion sure, a great brown grizzly bear; no problem. But imminent death, she’d pass.

The noise was so loud! Everything in the cab was starting to fall and strike the passengers, a pair of wooden beads slinging across her bare legs, smartly leaving red little dots in their wake.

When the plane crashed down, the belly of the plane screaming as it slid across the asphalt, her feet becoming terribly hot with the searing heat did the young woman open her eyes. Everything was in shambles Madison scared to look back at the other passengers, not wishing to see more dead. It was “that actor” Roan that caught her attention as he gallantly pulled the captain out of the air ship.

“Wait,” the grey-green eyes woman croaked her throat dry and rough from the smoke seeming to come from everywhere. “I’ll help,” And she did, pushing with all her might to get the captain who had saved every one lives out of the wreckage. When Roan returned so did she, not wanting to hear from anyone, “Get out,” Adi would be damned if one person did not get out before the ship was engulfed in flames because she could not help.

An angel in a tulip yellow sun dress, stained with the stewardesses blood, stood in the center aisle, checking for unconscious or seriously injured.

[V]

Lee experienced the sights of Verbena from his window, ignoring the conversations around him. For a few minutes he found something within himself staring out into the foreign land, a sense of peace washing away numbness rooted deep within his mind. Rocking in his place, Lee jolted back to awareness of the shuttle as the craft began to nosedive.

The scream came and stuck with the man for an age, until it's sudden cease. He glanced to the front of the compartment and shuddered taking his eyes from display, but the woman's body stuck with him. Another message came from the pilot, his voice easing the distressed Lee. Clamped into his seat all Lee could do was grip his armrests until his knuckles turned white, and close his eyes fiercely. Anxious to land, or crash, his mind flashed images of carnage and wrecks, the body of the stewardess, of destruction. Sweating Lee weathered the bumps and jostles of the shuttle but the terrifying images made the man wish he was elsewhere.

It was over, the shuttle was stopped.

Lee ran one hand through his hair, his arm unstable - shaking uncontrollably. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to looking into the aisle. He nodded to Madison as she moved between passengers. Jittering, Lee stood and staggered his way to the front of the shuttle. One his way out Lee glanced over his shoulder to the craft. Only seeing another similar craft destroyed, smoke in the wind, fires engulfing it's insides and screams.

Bile rose in his mouth, Lee Kindler scrambled away making it only a few steps before falling to his knees and vomiting. Afterward he stood apart from the vessel unable to return and help or even look back.

[Gunnison]

Rado

Rado, after reading the message, had decided to get some last minute rest before touching down on Verbena. Placing his ear plugs in his ears and a sleeping mask on his forehead, he repositioned himself to a more comfortable position. Taking a thick pillow from the overhead storage unit, he held it in front of himself, puffing the pillow as best he could to make it more comfortable to lay his head on. With the pillow puffed and his seat reclined, Rado lay his head back and shut his eyes, going over what had been a relatively uneventful journey.

Rado was just beginning to drift off when he was jostled slightly in the cabin. Turbulence he imagined. Nothing to worry about. At the exact moment the thought ran through Rado's mind, ther was an even more violent jolt inside the cabin, a jolt that was clearly not turbulence. A split second later, a large object struck Rado over the side of a head, causing him momentary disorientation. He reached up to take off his sleeping mask and pulled it up onto his forehead. In his lap lay a rather large and heavy rectangular object. A vintage hardback of the famous novel "Jane Eyre" lay in his lap, the corner covered in blood. If only it was a paper edition. As he looked back up from the book, he could hear the muffled sounds of shouting, drowned out by his ear plugs. There were sparks flying from the cabin walls and signs of something going very badly wrong with the craft. His harness tightened sharply, securing him in place. Unfortunately, the kindly stewardess who had been so polite earlier in the flight hadn't this luxury at the time the craft took a nose dive. She flew down the isle in a violently fast manner, meeting head on with the front of the compartment.

Rado looked about the chaos that had enguled the cabin. Luggage was flying around the passenger area, screens flickered and died and the passengers were being jostled violently in their seats. Rado reached to his forehead with one hand and pulled the mask back over his eyes. Whatever was happening in the cabin was beyond his control. He could do nothing to help. Strapped into his seat with no way of freeing himself and with gravity making up it's own mind as to how it would play with things in the cabin, to sit as still as possible was the safest option. The sleeping mask would offer his eyes some protection, if not from the flying debris, from the scenes of horror playing out around him. After what seemed like a lifetime of falling, the shuttle hit the floor with almighty force, the deafening sound of a hull scraping on asphalt breaching his ear defenders as though they were not even there. The scraping was brought to an abrupt end as the shuttle collided with something much larger and tougher, stopping it dead in its tracks. The harnesses that were pinning him down did their job and he remained in his seat.

There was a brief moment of peace as there was no movement, no screaming and no real activity within the cabin. He sat there suspended for a moment by his harness, supported by it's tightness. The harness then unbuckled, releasing him as he slumped, as if shocked by his own weight. Rado pulled out his ear plugs and pulled his mask down from his face around his neck. He sat for a while, collecting his thoughts whilst surveying the sight of the cabin. It was a wreck. Personal belongings were flung all around, the cabin furnishings were all torn to hell and the sight of a dead body slumped at the front of the ship brought back painful memories that Rado had hoped to escape on Verbena. He moved his hand to the side of his head, the area that he had been attacked by the copy of "Jane Eyre" just moments ago. His hair felt matted and warm, not a good sign. Bringing his hand back into view he could see he was indeed bleeding from the wound left by the book. His mother had always told him that books would do him the world of good, apparently not in this case. Grabbing hold of the seat in front of him, he hoisted himself up, moving out into the isle. Making his way down the isle, using the seats for support, Rado walked past a pretty young red haired girl, bloodstained and checking for any injured. She said something to him and he responded with a mumbled Russian phrase that not even he understood. At the end of the isle he reached the cabin door, now open, and a soft breeze was blowing through the gap. Looking down Rado could see the bloodied body of a young stewardess, positioned in an awkward fashion. He knelt down and checked to see for any signs of life, hoping there would be. Not surprisingly there was none, a sad thing to see in someone so young who just moments ago was full of life. He reached down, scooping her lifeless body up. Turning to the door, Rado made his way out of the door, stepping down onto the now deflated emergency slide. He saw the pilot, layed out on the floor, a handsome young man crouched over him checking his wounds. Rado layed the stewardess onto the ground gently, crossing her arms over her chest as he did. He took the sleeping mask from around his neck and placed it over Juanita's eyes. Kneeling down beside her, he whispered a small prayer in Russian under his breath for her respectfully. Rado gathered his thoughts and made a cross over his chest before standing himself up. A combination of his age, the trauma of the situation and the literary wound on the side of his head meant the movement was all too much and Rado promptly fell unconscious, his heavy frame colliding painfully with the asphalt.

[L]

Blaine:

Blaine was enjoying himself during the conversations with the other passengers and was about to introduce himself to the man at the front that he recognized – though Blaine wasn't one big for movies, he still knew a celebrity when he saw one – when the power flickered and he heard the engine sputter.

He knew that was a bad sign, and without further word sunk back in to his seat and buckled his harness. The air was charged with tension. He knew the other passengers could feel the problems too.

Even as he buckled himself in, Blaine wasn't prepared when hell reigned.

The first shock of the craft slammed his head against the side of the window and he felt warmth spread over the side of his head. He would have thought, and been right, that he had a large cut on the side of his head that was bleeding. However, before he even had time to register the wound, the craft went black and started to nose dive.

He vaguely heard a scream and something fly past him in the aisle – then more screams – as the buckle of his seat, not placed in correctly, snapped loose.

Blaine flew forward, slamming the bridge of his nose against the cushioned seat in front of him and everything went black.

-

When he opened his eyes, he first saw a woman shaking him... it took him a moment to register the face. Madison.

That was it – Madison.

He shook off her help and tried to stand from his crumbled place on the ground, though pain shot through his chest and he struggled to take a breath in.

Cracked rib, he thought, this better be worth it.

He shook off Madison's hand again – softly. 'Thank you,' he said, though through clenched teeth, 'I'll be fine... look after the others' As much as he wanted to help, he knew he couldn't – he could barely breath in the cabin with the cracked rib and smoke filling it up, so me made his way to the slowly – leaving the actor and woman to help the rest out of the shuttle.

When he got to fresh air he took in a deep breath, even though the pain was intense, it still felt good to get the air in his lungs. Something nagged at the back of his mind though... through the grogginess he couldn't think straight though and dismissed whatever it was.

He looked around, noticing the other survivors around him – the pilot was a safe distance away from the craft now. The stewardess, obviously dead, and another man unconscious near her. Lee stood away from the shuttle, looking away from it, obviously in shock.

He blinked away the water that was welling in his eyes... not tears though, just the effects of the smoke and his struggling to breath.

He was about to turn around and head back in to shuttle when his mind finally clicked to the nagging sensation.

There were no sirens. As he looked around and took in the view of the airport, there was nothing. No gaping spectators, no workers, no emergency crews rushing to the scene to assist. There was no-one.

Nothing at all.

He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and thinking it was just his imagination as he headed back in to the cabin to assist with the few remaining people inside – hoping there were no more among the deceased.

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth




For the next couple of minutes, Lilibeth made it her sole purpose to tune out her immediate surroundings for the remainder of the trip. But this job was becoming increasingly impossible as the sound of her neighbour kicking the chair in front of them beat against her effort, letting in the awkward conversation between strangers and the snoring of those less inclined to traveling. Regularly Lilibeth was the last one to tune others out, but as they neared their destination, she was becoming increasingly anxious. She'd never really had much of a plan for what she'd do once she actually got there. Not much of one, anyway.

Nervously lacing her legs in and out of the armstrap of her bag and chewing her lip, Lilibeth began a new game on her handheld and thoughtlessly pushed away at the buttons. It had a calming effect for a while, the edges of the bright city catching the corners of her vision through her window, when the lights in the cabin flickered. Her heart skipped a beat, and she sat bolt upright, frozen. She never remembered that happening before. When the engine spluttered out, that missed heartbeat caught up with her, kicking her pulse into overdrive.

The lights returned and the flight restabalized, but Lilibeth was left frozen, clutching her handheld, suddenly wrought with paranoia. Things were still, and just as she began to let out the breath she'd been holding, the shuttle rocked again, tilting abruptly into a dive. The safety restraints kicked into gear just in time, crushing her to her seat, and what would have been a sigh now became a short, strangled yelp. Her glasses nearly flew away from her face, and she desperately clutched the frames to her when the blurs began around the edges of her vision, needing to see every detail and not exactly sure of why. Her breathing now quickened with her heart rate, not made any easier by the tightened belts and head supports. All around her windows snapped closed, accented by blue sparks from the failing craft, and a scream cut through the air causing Lilibeth no end of pain.

The tolerant, helpful, quiet flight attendant came flying past, no longer any of these things, and Lilibeth reached out automatically to her sounds of pure terror and panic, obviously unable to catch the rapidly descending woman. Just as the woman's screams cut off sharply in a way that Lilibeth didn't care to think about, a sharp pain shot up her leg. Choking back a frustrated scream of her own, Lilibeth grabbed her knee, seeing that the handle on her shoulder bag had snaked its way firmly around her right ankle, pulling her painfully down with it's weight. The flap fell open, and somewhere in her mind she cursed herself for not zipping it back up earlier as some of her favourite things fell through the darkened shuttle. In that short moment after the attendant had fallen, there had been a stunned silence, but now the passengers ignited in a genuine and full blown panic.

The shuttle wrenched into a straighter trajectory, and as everything was brought back to a familiar angle, the pilot's unexpectedly even voice cut through the chaos of the craft. Just for a precious moment, while her blood rushed to accommodate this shift in position, everything slowed to an impossible stop. Her bag had crashed back against her, only a few things remaining, the topmost object being her copy of the collective, novelized form of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. In that small, inexplicable and tiny moment, while her heart still pulsed erratically and her breathing remained uneven, she found herself focusing on the large, friendly words on the front of her special edition, old fashioned book:

Don't Panic.

All of the air forced itself out of her lungs, the letters burning themselves into her brain, irrelevant but a result of the adrenaline speeding through her system, repeating over and over in her mind as the shuttle collided violently with the planet's surface. The metal, the sparks, the screams, the girl all sped along the ground and through assorted obstacles, the resulting sounds reaching a deafening peak right before there was a sudden grinding and painful stop. Lilibeth was thrown against her restraints, spittle so very attractively escaping her mouth, glasses finally falling free, though still anchored to her wrist by the red wire. Unthinkingly, she put them on, noting the hairline fractures running through her left lens without much interest, never wanting to see again but unable to quell the urge. Her harness came loose and she slumped down, pushing the glasses harshly back up again as they slid forward, one of the legs clearly loose, the cuts from clutching them to her face stinging her now that the original danger had passed.

She tried to stand up, but her legs were left unstable from the surge of adrenaline seeping from her body, from being thrown around and from her center of gravity being thrown off. Her cracked handheld lay abandoned and probably useless in her seat, but she grabbed it anyway, numbly slipping it into the sidebag that she now wore. She knew she had to get out, but she suddenly couldn't think of which way out was. Something in her mind continued to repeat to her:

Don't Panic.

She held it off the best that she could, obeying this unheard command, looking at her immediate surroundings, now much different and more important than they had been short minutes before. On the seat in front of her she saw one of her other books, the corner bloodied but the book still recognizable. Her Jane Eyre. She snatched up the familiar hardback, clutching it to her chest, her cut hands adding to the already-present blood stains, her mind an endless loop of that friendly and reassuring message.

Lilibeth slid desperately to the floor, now more unsure than ever of what it was that she should be doing, staring around wide-eyed and in need of help. Help always comes in these situations, she told herself.

Don't panic.

[Maple]

The initial malfunctions almost went unnoticed by the boy with his eyes stuck on the scenery. He only looked up when a confused murmur passed through the cabin. He caught a glimpse of the flashing screen and remarked "Whoa, weeeeird."

When things returned to normal he resumed sightseeing as though nothing had happened. But minutes later a sudden jolt brought him to attention, and he watched blue sparks dance around him. Silent with astonishment, he instinctively seized the armrests of his seat in a white-knuckled grip as the craft began to plummet. It gave him the fluttery feeling of a good rollercoaster, but with a harsh aftertaste of nausea and panic.

He didn't witness the demise of Juanita - his eyes were screwed shut. He cried out only when an errant briefcase bonked him in the face, for which the foil bag provided insufficient armor. But that cry escalated into a shrill scream that Fisher managed to sustain for the remainder of the vessel's untimely descent.

When they came to a stop, there was a quiet moment where only the gasps and groans of the survivors could be heard. During that moment, Fisher leaned over the armrest, lifted the bag partway and wretched up three half-digested candy bars. Feeling refreshed, he lowered the mask, gazed out over the wreckage and announced in a half-whisper, "That was AWESOME."

The boy then tore off the belts strapping him down and stood in the aisle, surprised to find his muscles sore from bracing himself so hard during the crash. But worse yet was the pain in his head, radiating out from a goose egg forming over his left eyebrow. Surveying the cabin, he spotted the fallen stewardess and stared silently. His vision was blurred but he could still make out the the twisted neck, the vacant eyes. His own expression was unseen, but there was nothing to see - it was equally blank.

The gravity of the situation had hit him hard: the crash wasn't a fun reward for enduring hours of boredom, like the lollipop at the end of a doctor's visit. It was an accident. A terrible accident.

While the other passengers were getting up and milling around the cabin, Fisher kept on staring at Juanita, leaning against an armrest, so small and still he almost blended in with the scenery. The world around him was anything but still - it seemed to spin faster and faster as the pain in his head grew and grew.

When he finally found his bearings, Fisher grabbed his backpack and took off sprinting, pushing past several startled passengers as he made for the exit. Emerging from the wreckage, he lost momentum and began stumbling around, rubbing his eyes.

"Daaaaad?" he called, his feeble cry echoing pointlessly in the empty terminal.

[ConfirmDeletion]

Watching this magnificent new world flow beyond the space craft’s window was mesmerizing. Jayn could not take her eyes away. Yet her ears still heard the idle chatter slowly growing around her. The voices of men and women alike discussed a variety things, they revealed names and jobs; even striking personality traits. None of it really aroused the brunette’s attention like her vacation spot below them all, not even the kicking of her seat by the little boy behind her bothered her all that much.

Though no matter how engrossed one can be in a certain thing, something like the entire space around you rattling in a vicious way is impossible to go unnoticed. The first shock wave that rocked the craft froze Jayn in her seat, her fingers clamping down white to the armrests of her seat. Yet as quickly as the turbulence had come it had vanished, the teenager girl sank back into her seat with a sigh and forced her hands to relax. It was too bad for Jayn and everyone on the plane when the short return of normalcy was shattered.

Chaos erupted in the form of electricity and gravity. As the world outside the window twisted and blue light flared everywhere Jayn screamed, how couldn’t she? They were crashing, crashing! Terror was the only the girl could manage before a body rushed past her vision, smashing into the screen at the front of the cabin with her head twisted at a horrifying angle. After that sight burned into her mind the world went black and Jayn’s voice fell silent as the whole craft plummeted to its impending collision with the space port.
.
When Jayn came to she was on the floor and a warm sensation was spilling from a burning line on her temple. Slowly, ever so slowly, she sat up and touched her temple only to find her fingers bright red upon pulling them away. Blood, she was bleeding! Instantly panicked tears welled up in her eyes and her breath hitched. How had she started bleeding? Why…was the plan not moving? Why…was it…Jayn’s eyes widened as she pulled herself to her feet; the plane was no longer the plane. Wreckage was all that was left of the clean, modern design. It seemed a miracle that the cabin was mostly still set in a whole, only a few screaming gaps and electrical fires. The hysterics didn’t come though, only shock settled in as she slowly froze into staring.

Stumbling out into the isle Jayn clung to the furniture, a thump behind her turning her head. There, in a very similar position Jayn had been in a few moments ago, was an older woman with glasses and dark hair. She seemed to be having a hard time breathing or perhaps just a hard time maintaining an existence at all. The brunette made her way over to the other person, floundering from her very shaky steps. Just as she reached the woman’s seat her knees gave out and she dropped beside the lady. “Ar-are you al-all-ri-right-t?” Jayn stuttered, hands clinging blindly to the woman’s arm.

[Flex]

Just as Vicky seemed to be getting her life back together, some incompetent moron--this time in the form of a happy-go-lucky pilot--turned up and sent her back to square one.

She was the cop here, the ‘enforcer of the law’, the… ‘keep-everyone-safe person’, but since everyone else, from the movie star to the redheaded businesswoman, had decided to play the roles of good Samaritans and were tiptoeing amongst the wreckage of the plain, extending helpful hands to anyone in need of support, it was up to her to be the smart one and look out for herself.

The crash had happened in slow motion--or so it seemed to Vicky, anyway. In reality, she had woken up during the last five seconds of it, and each second, so heavy in terror and the grim reality of death, seemed to stretch for an eternity. She glanced around the shuttle--the swarming passengers; the luggage strewn across the floor; the immensity of the chaos, before slowly stepping out of her seat.

A brief inspection of her showed that the crash hadn’t impacted her physically, save a long gash running down her left arm. She pressed her fingers against it and winced; it stung, but it wasn’t anything that a strong bandage and a few dabs of vinegar wouldn’t fix. She groped around in the semi-darkness--the crash had ruptured the light system of the shuttle--and spied the beautiful woman sitting behind her through a tangle of overhanging luggage. “Looks like this one needs help,” she called out to the movie star, before making for the exit.

It was funny how mindsets could change. When Vicky had first set foot inside the Alpha Apollo, she had thought of the plane as a glamorous luxury--her ticket to a brighter future, but now it just seemed to be a vehicle created out of materials that were light for flight. And therefore, easily damaged. Vicky considered searching for a bottle of vinegar in the kitchen, but decided against it--there was plenty of time, and chances were somebody else would come across something of medicinal merit while playing hero. Besides, all she was interested in at the moment was fresh air.

So, as she stepped through the ruined threshold of the Apollo Alpha’s exit, she couldn’t help but smile as she was immersed in a faint, perhaps fading, sunlight--however, the moment didn’t last for long. “Daaaaad?” cried the brat from before, his voice resounding through the empty terminal. Vicky scowled and cocked her head to a side as she analysed the youngster. Was it just her, or were the male population constantly getting in her way; her ex-husband, Xavier, the pilot and now this little boy, who without a doubt would grow up to be a spoiled, womanising brat? Vicky could see it already.

“Your dad’s not here,” she said as she strode down the steps that led from the exit, reaching level ground and walking up to him, “and chances are, honey, you’re not going to be seeing him anytime soon.” She showered him with a false smile that never quite reached her eyes, and grabbed his shoulders, wheeling him around so that they were both facing the ruined plane.

“See that?” she asked the boy, softly. “Think of the hundreds of--actually, no, thousands of--people that were involved in its production process; the designers, the architects, the scientists, the… the artists, the people who overlooked its designs and the government officials who authorised its construction.”

She slid down to her knees so that she was speaking directly into his ear, “and now think of where those people might be--attending some cocktail party or…” she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, “...playing a game of chess or… perhaps even having dinner with that dear father of yours.” She glanced at the boy and her blue eyes that were brimming with a false sincerity, met with his. “So, you see,” she said brightly as she got up, “the moral of my little story--if there was even one in the first place,” and at that, she laughed, “is that there will always be someone fucking up things for you, and”--she paused dramatically--“there’s always someone to blame. If I were you, I’d blame dad. I mean, after all, all of this”--she gestured around the terminal and at the smoldering plane--“would never have happened to you if he’d been more parental.”

And with that, she parted from the boy with a brief wave, striding further into the seemingly endless terminal. She hoped that one of the frantic heroes would grow a bit of common sense and fetch a bottle of aspirin; the crash had been rather stressful and she could already feel the beginnings of a major migraine.

[roan]

Madison had tried to help Blaine, at first taking his clenched teeth speech as anger but soon realized he was injured. ‘Best leave him be,’ she thought as she nodded her head to him before he exited the ship. Turning her attention down the aisle a tall man with striking gray eyes(Rado) said something to her in a language she couldn’t figure. German, maybe?

‘He’s walking at least that’s a good sign.’

As the man passed by her the editor noticed two brunettes sitting farther back down the aisle, speaking to one another. Making her way towards them she said, “Are you two okay?” By the look of them they were as shaken as she felt herself. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Kicking debris and all the hanging trinkets that had fallen from the crash landing out of their walking path Adi aided the two younger women out of the plane almost knocking into the Irish man along the way out “There’s no one else inside.” The redhead said breathlessly.

Fatigue and stress was finally catching up to the woman in the tulip dress, having wished to help everyone that she didn’t think to evaluate her own self being. Long pale legs quaked under her yellow dress that whipped around her knees which were soiled from the stewardess’s blood having pooled near her seat before.


Having moved a good distance from the wreckage Madison turned to look back one last time, sending a silent prayer to the good Lord before noticing something very disturbing. Where was help? Where were the sirens, the flashing blue and red lights? “Why isn’t there anyone here?” Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence, her breathing beginning to quicken in panic. “Where’s the fire trucks, the ambulance? This is crazy!”

So much for a warm welcome to Verbena.

[Kris]

Ariel never liked roller coasters. Something about spinning around and then being shoving down never seemed right to her. Every cyber amusement park preserves some kind of an old machine like that, but you'd have to go to the illegal ones to get a ride. She remembered that when she was a teen a friend took her to a place such as this. The train was in bad shape and the iron was rusted but that never stopped the kids from going on it, at high price of course since the police should have never be informed of the activity. They needed to sign up a paper saying that every damage taken is at their own risk and they will be clear of charge.

Being the reasonable person she was Ariel decided it was best to stay off, although, deep inside she thought to herself that it did seem kind of fun.

BACK THEN, that is, WHEN SHE WAS OUT OF DANGER.

It happened so fast. She was held tight within her sit but she could feel her body moving from inside. She wanted to throw up, but the speed and the intensity prevent her from any reaction.

Ariel didn't scream. She heard noises around her, but her eyes were tightly closed along with her mouth. She hoped this “ride” will be over soon and felt her heart beat ever so loud as if her heart was connected to an amplifier and was played within her mind in loops.

Worst Music ever....

She hoped she wouldn't die... There were so many things she wanted to do...

There were voices everywhere, screaming, calling for help, and then there was a great void of silence. She passed out, so it seems, because when she was back to it, there was nothing but darkness and damage.

She slowly removed herself from her sit, feeling great pain and noticed that her right arm was bleeding from a big cut, she bit her lips as she watched the wound and attached her long shirt's sleeve to it in order to stop the blood. Aside from a bit of headache and some dizziness she felt while she tried to get up, she was fine.

She could have barely see around her but thought it wouldn't be wise to call for help now. Reaching for her small device she had, where the message of warning was still stored, she tucked the small machine into her pants' pocket and decided to look around for any surviving.

[Maple]

As Fisher stood wavering on the outskirts of the crash site, he was startled when a woman grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him around. He staggered backward as she knelt beside him, then listened in stunned silence as she spoke. But it wasn't clear at first that he actually heard a thing; there was no visible reaction.

That is, until the woman turned to leave. That's when Fisher bent over, picked up the nearest throwable object - a fist-sized hunk of debris - and hurled it in her direction. There came no explanation for this violent act, not even a cry of anger. He simply took off running... only to trip over a much larger hunk of debris and fall flat on his face.

Lying there on the dusty floor, Fisher turned his head to the side. But he otherwise remained in the very position in which he landed - legs splayed, one arm folded under him, the other outstretched. His mask had ripped open, exposing the white face marred by the grass-green bruise on his forehead. Closing his eyes, the boy began to think this might be a very good time and place to fall asleep.

[L]

The crash of the shuttle had rocked the Verbena Space Terminal with massive explosions and the scene around the crash site now looked like a war zone. Small spot fires, loose electrical wires sparking.

The shuttle would never fly again – obvious by the mangled mess that was the shuttle cockpit and parts of the shuttle's sides shorn clean of metal.

The fact the shuttle had made such a landing and kept anyone alive was a miracle and testament to the pilot's skill.

Now, survivors milled around the wreckage – a few laying unconscious on the floor, others just milling around aimlessly. A small child deciding to sleep splayed out on dirty floor next to a hunk of the shuttle that had torn off.

The strange part, though, was the lack of anyone else in the Terminal itself.

Everything was in its rightful place – except the shuttle of course. Seats away from the wreckage looked in place – check-in points all where they should be. In fact the whole Terminal looked spotless.


http://photoblog.twincityphotos.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/cinciairport2.jpg

Just... deserted.

Not a single person could be seen anywhere.

From deeper with-in the Terminal a small buzzing sound could be made out. Soft at first, but growing increasingly loud. Something approaching rapidly.

The source was soon discovered as a small metallic cube with a blue eye shot around the corner, hurtling towards Madison at break neck speed before coming to a sudden halt inches away from her.

'Hi/Hello/Greetings. Welcome to Verbena Space Terminal tourists/visitors/workers! I hope you enjoyed your flight. My name is Norman, but you can call me Norm. I'm your official greeter/guide/welcomer.' Its voice didn't resemble a machine, but a deep male voice that almost resembled the voice of a man that use do voice-overs for 21st century movie ads.

Norman buzzed around the wreckage, looking at everyone that had debarked the shuttle so far, then stopped over the unconscious body of Flynn.

'Pilot Johanasson. The Pilot's lounge is opened for you until your return trip to Apollo Alpha. Your efforts in delivering our passengers in normal Apollo Corp safety is much appreciated'

Without waiting he buzzed away from the group and wreckage and his voice suddenly seemed to boom out.

'Passengers. Those still remaining on the shuttle, if you'll please depart/leave/exit the craft and make your way to collect your belongings and I will escort you to your destinations here on lovely Verbena'

At that, Norman merely hovered in the air, watching the group.

[V]

Nothing stirred in the deserted terminal except the crashed shuttle behind Lee, the passengers escaping from the wreck. It took several moments before he could focus on anything but standing, even then Lee let the sound of his racing heartbeat control his mind. "Daaaaad?" Echoed a voice around as another passenger stumbled out. It shook Lee back awake. Blinking he tried to make out the boy before remembering his own glasses. They hung from his neck still, amazingly not thrown with the crash.

About to approach the younger traveller Lee stopped himself short as a woman approached. He turned away to investigate any damage to himself. A brief look here and there later, left the man unsurprised despite probably being bruised in many odd locations Lee was uninjured. Lee looked about and heard fragments of what the lady was saying, "is that there will always be someone fucking up things for you, and-" wait what was she saying?"there’s always someone to blame. If I were you, I’d blame dad." Lee was stuck, wanting the interrupt but unable to. "I mean, after all, all of this would never have happened to you if he’d been more parental."

Don't approach her, don't approach her. He commanded himself eyes closed, stay in the shadows. His lips mumbled the words alongside his mind. The boy was braver than he.

Hearing a buzzing noise, Lee stumbled across the rubble to help. He bent down to make sure the boy was alright, other than a great bruise on his face nothing seemed out of the ordinary - just unconscious. The blued eyed cube - named Norman - whipped around his ear looking at him and his patient. It boomed for the remaining passengers to disembark; Lee caught the haunting sight of the vessel but turned away quickly.

Something began to irritate Lee as he helped the unconscious to a more comfortable position. He removed the mask so he could get a better look at the bruise. It was stupid but despite only the crash victims around - it felt like some one (or something?) was watching him.

[Familiar]

The inside of the crashed shuttle was eerily quiet; the peace a stark and disturbing contrast with both the chaos that had occurred there only moments ago, and with the visual jumble of sharp angles and jabbed edges that composed the wreck. Certainly, it was a disturbing place to be, but Roan had promised himself that he would check to see if there were any survivors left in the crash.

There was.

A lone man sat near the back of the shuttle, nearly buried under metal debris. What he was once wearing, how he had once looked, these were all things that were nearly impossible to determine. He had been very nearly crushed completely, only his head and shoulders emerging from the rubble. Blood ran quickly and freely from somewhere underneath his matted hair, streaking down his face.

The worst thing was that, despite all reason, the man was still alive.

He was groggy, moaning, unable to string as much as two words together. Even to Roan's untrained eyes it was clear that he wasn't going to make it without some immediate medical help. Given the curious lack of sirens, it was also clear that that much needed help was not going to be arriving in time. There really wasn't any question of what to do in Roan's mind.

Grabbing a piece of the metal that pinned the man to his seat, Roan pulled as hard as he could. Sure, the man had no chance of survival, but hell stranger things had happened. If he died, he died; no harm done, but Roan would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to get the man out of there.

It took ten minutes, he didn't make it. Roan wound up carrying the corpse out of the shuttle, laying the man down on the far side of the wrecked shuttle without a word. Nobody needed to see that.

Moving over to the rest of the group of survivors, Roan stood in silence for a moment, before saying simply "What the hell is going on here?"

[roan]

Madison:

Not until a moment ago had the red-head took the chance to look at the true beauty of the terminal. The golden lights, the glossy floors that looked recently waxed. Look as far as her eyes could strain it seemed the terminal never ended.

A sudden buzzing noise had the young editor looking every which way. Right before dismissing the sound as an air vent or some other reasonable cause a ball like device nearly collided with her face before stopping near the tip of her nose.

“Whoa!” Madison cried, immediately moving back and taking a fighting stance placing her right leg stretched behind her while her left, bent at the knee, was forward. Her left hand instinctively went to her hip, fingers thinking it would grab hold of a hilt.

The reaction immediately felt foolish as the ball with its single bright blue eye began to speak. Its voice seemed to come from everywhere, as if connected to the terminal. The floating metal eye introduced himself as Norman and revealed that it was the groups guide.

As Norman moved about the wreckage scanning the damage Madison never let her eyes off of it sphere shape. The initial greeting wasn’t the most pleasant; she never cared too much for the more recent technologies.

After addressing their hero of a pilot it spoke to the group telling everyone the go gather their belongings and follow him. This made Madison scoff. She had absolutly no wish to go with the talking metal orb. Turning around the face the group her slender arms raised, bringing her hands up in a confused gesture. ”What do we do?” She asked out loud to anyone that would answer. “No one is here.”

Suddenly a tingling sensation shot up her spine to then fan across the entirety of her back. The last time Adi had felt something similar to this was two years ago in India.

Right before a tiger lunged at her. No one seemed to be within the terminal other than the shaken survivors but Madison was sure that someone or something was watching them.

“I’m not sure about everyone else but I’ve a very strange feeling about this place.”

[L]

Blaine moved aside for Roan as he passed by the shuttle entrance, carrying the dead man in his hands. Blaine offered a silent prayer for the dead man then followed Roan out of the shuttle.

He saw the strange orb, calling himself Norman, fly up and start talking as though there was nothing a miss in the Terminal.

What the fuck?, Blaine thought to himself, Defective AI's.

He took a moment to take the scene in and noticed everyone seemed to be aimlessly wandering about. With the Terminal being strangely empty, he didn't think that would be the best thing. Who was to say it was completely empty either? Something was seriously wrong and it'd be best to get out as quickly as possible.

Blaine made his way over to the unconscious shuttle pilot, knelt and checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive, then rose and spoke out in his thick irish accent.

'Ladies and Gentlemen! Please, I'd like to speak to everyone!'

He waited patiently for everyone to come closer before he began to speak.

'Ladies and Gentlemen. I understand that this is a terrible event and we're all in shock and pain. But I think staying here is a very bad idea. I do nae know if following that... thing...,' he motioned his hands toward the floating Norman, currently just floating passively, watching the group, 'is the best thing to do. It's obviously malfunctioning. But we all need medical help – the Captain here the most'

Blaine paused for a moment, to catch his breath. His ribs were still on fire but he forced himself through it.

'Now I do nae wanna dictate to everyone what we should be doing. So maybe we should take a vote on what to do – I suggest we stick together as a group and find a medical room, then a hospital. Or should we follow tha'... thing?'

[JiveRobyn]

Lilibeth




The next thing that Lilibeth was aware of were hands clinging painfully to her arms. She looked up to the bloody face of a young woman that had apparently stumbled back to check on her. Touched, Lilibeth put her hands over the girl's, nodding at her stuttered inquiry. She was in an odd place, resolved not to panic but unsure of what to do otherwise. Not all there, she tried to reassure the girl, pushing up her glasses again and accidentally smudging blood on the lens.

"Are you two okay?"

A tired looking woman made an appearance just in front of them, and in her fragile mental state Lilibeth was at a loss as to how to talk to two people at once. Shaken, she just nodded, and took the woman's offer of assistance, the younger girl still clinging to her bruised arm. Unsteadily putting a couple more fallen things into her bag and attempting to stand upright, her breath quickened again. A sharp pain shot up her right leg, and Lilibeth now remembered her fallen bag pulling her leg in the wrong direction. Stifling a whimper, she limped out of the useless shuttle with the other two women, now beginning to wonder herself about the state of the other passengers.

She realized that they'd actually crashed inside of the terminal. It had clearly been designed for aesthetics, a sprawling space that was still somewhat in order despite the intrusion of this disaster. It looked like it could hold up to even the highest levels of traffic, a place that would have been full of tourists, if the beauty of the planet was any implication. The only thing missing, actually, were the visitors, the staff, all of the other people. A giddy laugh slipped from her, and then she cleared her throat. She knew that she would be entirely useless if she slipped away again, and she didn't want to be sunk on the floor when the tension broke.

There were too many things going on, people milling about without aim. Lilibeth herself was not willing to leave the seeming safety of the terminal, which, even in its oddity, was something like familiar. For all that was missing here, Lilibeth didn't want to know what was missing, or worse, what was actually there, in the rest of the city. She just needed a moment to think, and then she may be able to form an opinion. It was hard to think, though, with this buzzing. Lilibeth was starting to get irritated, the sound getting louder, when a small robot whizzed into view, introducing itself as Norman. She blinked, immediately interested. She'd never seen a model like that before, and wanted to know more... Still, though, she was hesitant to follow this unknown entity anywhere.

Just then, an Irish gentleman addressed the group. Lilibeth was greatly relieved. With the pilot out cold and several other passengers following suit, and with everyone confused with the general state of things descending into madness, they were definitely lacking for leading figures. Greatly relieved that the scattered passengers were now forming a tighter group, Lilibeth was entirely willing to listen. Somewhere in the back of her head, she regretted not getting to know some of the others a bit better while they were still in relative safety on the shuttle before the crash. She didn't know who's opinion to trust.

The man seemed to be favouring one of his sides, and paused to take a breath. A spike of worry invaded Lilibeth's thoughts, but first things first, they needed a plan. He was right; they needed to find a medical room. For his side, for Lilibeth's leg, for the pilot and the girl's head and the countless other injuries that the other survivors had no doubt sustained during the crash. But this Norman seemed to be all that was left of, well, whatever had happened here.

"I think," Lilibeth started, voice pitched too high. She cleared her throat, and started again, her voice scratchy from the smoke in the crash, "I think that's a good idea. I vote on finding medical aid." Lilibeth wiped some blood from her face. "But I also think that we should take that robot."

[V]

He was distracted trying to find the source of the... of whatever he was feeling. The sense wouldn't dissipate, wouldn't leave him. Lee didn't like it; he didn't want attention. Bending down to the rubble once more Lee pretended to be looking over the unconscious person again, trying to hide himself. It didn't help. Emptiness from the space terminal did nothing to ease him, the large space free of anyone but the crash survivors. They ... he wanted to find a more secluded area.

Someone was addressing the other people from the craft. They had gathered around already. Lee stumbled away from the small rubble and joined them. Everyone else seemed to be more injured than he, with cuts and scrapes and whatever else had been inflicted during the mad trip to the ground. The pilot was still lying where he'd been since Lee had left the shuttle.

Blaine, the man Lee had talked to on the journey to the planet, had called them together asking for a vote. Anywhere away from the Space Terminal was fine for Lee. Someone said they should find medical support, and added they should bring the floating Norman with them. Lee took a second look at the cube, he'd forgotten about it - but he didn't think it was working to well.

"I think we should try and find a medical room," Lee said hesitant.

"Some of us less injured could search the terminal quickly to try and find the best way to go," he suggested. But didn't like the idea of wandering around when there was something about.

[Familiar]

"Fair enough."

They were Roan's first words in a while; the actor had become unusually quiet since disposing of the body of the security guard.

"The pilot saved our lives, seems only right that we at least see if we can't get him to a doctor. Plus, no-one else looks overly banged up, but stopping bleeding is generally a good thing, right? Now, if my math's right that means that four out of the eight of us that are still living, conscious, and past puberty have voted to get some meds. That's enough of a majority for me."

Still though, while searching was all well and good, there might be an easier way to find a medical station. If the robot was going to insist on acting like everything was normal, then maybe, just maybe, if he played into that delusion he would be able to get something useful out of it.

"Excuse me, but I'll be taking some of this." Roan said absentmindedly as he ran his hand along one of the many open wounds surrounding him. He then proceeded to rub the blood over on corner of his forehead. It wasn't an overly convincing job, but it might do the trick. The only question was should he play this polite or hostile?

A moment later, he had decided. "Oi, scrap metal!" Roan called up at Norman. "You have a customer complaint down here you fucking piece of junk! One of your asshole stewardesses dropped a fucking bag on my head. Look at this! It's fucking bleeding! You have any idea who I am? You have any idea how much I'm worth? Get me to a fucking doctor or I swear to god I'm going to have this entire fucking spaceport brought down and I mean NOW tin man!"

Eh, perhaps a touch over-dramatic... Angry characters were not Roan's forte.

[roan]

In the books curiosity killed the cat. For Madison’s sake and everyone else’s the editor in a sunflower yellow dress and once-white sandals that wrapped her ankles moved like the fictional cat around the back of the clerical desks. Opening cabinet doors and sliding panels pale hands moved swiftly, searching for anything that might help. Only papers, pens, envelopes, blank tickets and other things that could be found in any average office. There were a few sitting phones but each receiver was brought to her ear with a resounding silence that only infuriated the manic editor more.

Forcing her blue eyes closed Madison calmed herself by imagining a cold glass of some mixed drink she couldn’t name, fashioned with a cute umbrella and loaded with ice. And a beach, oh how she planned on swimming! There was the thought of attempting a tan but… sunblock would have never been far given her fair skin.

‘Oh, but noooo! That wouldn’t happen now’, Madison thought as she moved out behind one of the desk, kicking a rolling chair out of her way in frustration. Had this been some bad dream Madison imagined blue sparks emitting from her eyes, she was so upset.

A break in mental anguish was given when that familiar voice rang out loud and strong through the terminal. Standing at a small distance from the gathering group Madison took advantage of the space and let a whimsical smile cross over her face.

Never in all her years, having seen and meet many people, had she ever felt so immediately drawn to this delicious man. The way he took control of the situation like it was his very own shuttle had Madison’s ankles feeling weak.

‘Oh my gosh.’ ‘Adi thought, wanting to laugh at reaction to the Irish man, ‘I think I’m swooning.’

After a sobering rub at her face to try and focus on the more important things, like say getting the hell out of here.

A few voiced their opinions, the actor put on a fabulous injured display of another character to the eerie one-eyed robot, and Lee, a man she greeted earlier spoke of medical help.

“I don’t think we’ll find any medical help here. The janitorial door is locked, and the phones aren’t working. Finding a way out of here is a good idea to me.”

Madison spoke as she walked backwards, her unsteady nerves keeping her jittery and restless, hoping her backwards advance would getting everything else moving along too.

[L]

The floating orb spun towards Roan as he started shouting. Norman flew down towards the actor and hovered for a moment. The whirring of its processors could be heard.

'Of course Mr MacArthur. I apologize for our staff member's inability/inadequacy/mistake and hope we can handle this in a reasonable manner. If you would follow me I shall show you where the Medical Room is and then we can depart with the other passengers/travelers/tourists for your destinations.

Norman spun and started to fly off deeper in to the terminal.

A moment later, Blaine came up behind Roan, grabbing his shoulder as he passed to follow the metal orb.

'Good work me man, ye have just solved our problems I think'

Blaine turned back towards the rest of the group.

'We should probably hurry before we loose Mr Norman. If someone would like to carry the child and I'll also need someone ta help me carry our pilot?

[Shifty]

Adrian let out another sigh of disappointment at seeing another cabinet empty. He looked around him. He was at the terminal medical clinic, looking for medecine in case he or his mother got sick, as he had none at the moment. He had also gone out to get food, books, anything they might need or could help them from dying of boredom. He tried to open the clinic storeroom door, but found it looked, he looked around for something to use, but found nothing that would be sturdy enough. Sighing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a .32 calibre 5 shot pocket revolver. His father had kept it in case someone tried to break in to their house. Adrian had brought it with him for protection. He loaded only one chamber, cocked it, and held it in front of him, pointing it directly at lock. His hands shook as he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. click. he let out a breath and checked the gun. He swore silently as he noticed he had loaded the wrong chamber. He corrected it, held it out, took another deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

The resulting kick and boom was more than what Adrian had expected, and he dropped the gun as he put his hands in his ears, both of them rigning from the sound. He sat down and closed his eyes for a moment, regainign his composure. After a few seconds, he stood up and looked at the door. iIt wasn't open, but a swift kick broke the lock. As the door swing lazily open, Adrian had to hold in a gasp. The whole storeroom was stocked, with more medecine than he could carry.

He set down the backpack he had been carrying and began to load medicine, bandages, emergency surgical equipmetn, anything he needed, he took, and then some. When he was done, the storerrom was still abour three quarters full, and Adrian's backpack was almost bulging. He closed the door, doing his best to hide the fact that it had been broken into. he failed and, with a grunt of resignation, left. He put the .32 back in his coat pocket and exited the clinic.

[V]

Lee felt responsible for the boy near the rubble now. "I'll carry him," he replied to Blaine but spoke the words to the Terminal's polished flooring. Gesturing to the boy as he did so. Before he could be stopped Lee stepped away from other survivors and knelt in the rubble beside Fisher. With one arm underneath the boy's legs and the other supporting, Lee rose back to his feet slip. He staggered a step before regaining control and standing upright.

With the youngest member of their small group in his arms, Lee though grimly on how thin he felt and how weak. Lee frown, "ready here." The feeling of unease and sense of being watched still remained. And Lee wished to be out of the open.

[roan]

Teal colored eyes rimmed in a thin layer of khol liner narrowed at the hovering robot as it spoke its voice and tone aggravating her senses. It didn’t help the feeling that more eyes than she could count were burning a hole into her back. Whatever Madison did she couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling.

Upon the sound of Blaine’s voice the editor began to move towards him as he struggled with the pilots weight.

“I’ll help you,” She spoke softly, grabbing the unconscious pilots opposite arm and placing it over her shoulders as she wrapped her arm around his waist. It was obviously after a minute of walking that the Irish man himself was injured somewhere. ‘Adi could tell this by the weight she was supporting, weight that a man Blaine’s size could of carried alone. Everyone was going to the medical area, room, section… whatever it was that was here in the ‘port. Upon arrival Madison planned to see to it herself that he was checked over the best she could with her own medical knowledge.