EPISODE ONE

[teenbab]

[ The flight itself wasn't supposed to be too long - only six hours or so. And up until it all went sideways, it'd been fine; some of the kids had paired off, making small talk with those sat closest to them. Others kept to themselves, tuning out with headphones in or with books. A couple of boys a couple of seats from the front had fallen asleep on each other. Some faces were plastered to the windows, as if there was much else to see other than the vast expanse of ocean.

One minute it'd been smooth sailing, the next there'd been turbulence. And then that's worsened considerably, and it'd rapidly become transparently clear that they were taking a one-way, nose-first detour into the Pacific. Though perhaps by divine intervention or sheer, what're-the-odds chance, the plane had gone down a couple of miles from an island's shoreline.

Some woke up practically washed ashore, others weren't so lucky, left to flounder for any floating debris large enough to hold their weight. Regardless of where or how they woke up, one thing was abundantly clear. They were all equally, undeniably fucked. ]

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[troublegirl]

"Oi, fuckface."

Let it be known that she was relieved to see someone up and moving around and alive, but she'd never been the 'hugging and crying' type. Stranded on 'Lord of the Fucking Flies' Island wasn't gonna change that, no way.

With her jacket tied half-assedly around her waist, blood stained shirt and face, and her hair reacting somewhat biblically to the combination of salt water and humidity, she did not look her best.

But, fuck it, who did right now? Certainly not him either - the kid looked like he was about to puke. Or pass out, or maybe both. Though to be fair, from what she knew about him, that wasn't too out of the ordinary anyway.

Hurrying to catch up to Llewellyn, Magda gestured at him, before her hands went to her hair to try and get it under some vague semblance of control.

"You good?"

[gadaboutdetective]

Llewellyn had been looking for more survivors, vaguely wishing sand was less like sand at the moment. He didn’t dislike beaches exactly; it was just being exhausted, and trying to walk on sand was not exactly fun for someone who had trouble walking on flat ground on a good day.

He was tired; he was hungry, ironically he was also pretty close to puking up whatever was left in his stomach, and he was pretty sure the whole adrenaline high was finally wearing down. So that was fun. When he heard a rather colourful nickname being thrown his way, he turned on his heel a little too fast and nearly toppled. Arms thrown out to regain balance with a wobble as he looked at the teen addressing him.

Oh, he remembered seeing her on the plane... Right, relief... Happy to see another living person. That was the proper reaction, maybe don’t freak out like had with Cassian.

“Uh— hey!” He was about to reply that he was ‘good’ for someone who’d been in a plane crash, when he noted the blood on her shirt and his eyes widened comically. “Are you bleeding??”

Eloquent.

[troublegirl]

Glancing down at herself, she scowled a little, but didn't seem particularly bothered by the fact.

"Oh- yeah, got cut up a bit, nothin' life endin'." Once her hands were free, she looked behind him, and then out at the debris-littered ocean. Fucks sake, she had some shit in her bag that'd be real handy right about now.

"You seen anyone else? There's a girl back that way chilin' under a tree, but you're the first one I've found upright."

And, after a beat, before she forgot; "Wait- woss'your name again?"

[gadaboutdetective]

“Okay uh— good. If you’re sure, that is. Not that we have an actual first aid kit.” He mumbled back, still a bit fixed on the blood with an agitated sort of concern. It’s not that he’s squeamish, Llewellyn wasn’t usually the squeamish sort (aside from like... brains in those overly gore focused horror films). It was more that he was used to watching out for injuries that needed patching up, especially when they weren’t his own.

Shaking his head a moment later, he then nodded when he realized he was supposed to be answering a question. “Yep, I met another survivor down the beach...” He paused before gesturing the way he’d come from, almost as though he’d forgotten which way he’d walked. “That way. We agreed to split up and see if we could find more people?”

And look at that, Magda counted as people. That was one more person for the list of ‘people who didn’t wind up dead in the ocean.’

The question on his name gets a small start, right... Right. Not a hard one, kid. “Oh, I’m Llewellyn? Llewellyn Watts.” He rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly, before adding, “What’s your name?”

[troublegirl]

"Yep, so no point in lookin' at me like I've got a pole impaled through me. I won't keel over on you, so take a breath and try not to do the same to me yeah?"

Was she in pain? Yes, a bit. But generally speaking she wasn't half bad at pushing that aside where practicalities were concerned. She could be a baby about it and waste time, or she could get her shit together. No doubt the freaking out would happen eventually, but right then and there she was more concerned about your usual emergency bits and pieces; water, for one. Food, shelter, how many people they'd need to keep alive.

Speaking of, there were more people alive; that was good. Hopefully they weren't utterly screwed in the injury region either.

"Come on, we've still got searching to do." As he asked her name, Magda went to carry on walking, gesturing for him to follow her, answering him as she went. "Name's Magdalena, I go by Magda. If you call me anythin' other than that where I can hear you I'll deck ya so hard y'ears'll ring for a month."

And then, as if the mild threat of violence was merely a pleasantry; "Did you have anything to eat in your case? Like snacks or water or anythin'? I'm not the best swimmer but we'll be totally ass-fucked if we don't get somethin' to drink soon."

[gadaboutdetective]

Hm... Breathing normally was probably a good, sensible idea. Unlike the vigorous nod and a moment of holding said breath simply because today was just a lot and sometimes you forgot to do normal things like that. It’s only for a moment, before she was talking to him again and... suggesting that they continue searching. 

Again, a sensible idea. 

And given the rather quick threat of decking him, he wasn’t about to point out that splitting up to cover more ground and meet up again on a certain part of the beach later was the original plan. He does, however, start walking after her clumsily... just beyond arm’s reach.

What? Llewellyn knew that sometimes he said things and it pissed people off. For all he knew, he could accidentally say Magdalena now that it was in his head and that would be it. Even responding came out overly thoughtful and slow, like he was making the attempt to make sure he called her Magda. “Uh— Magda, then. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I don’t think anything about our situation could be called nice, right?”

The teen glanced at the ocean a moment later, his bag. Definitely something he’d been hoping to find washed up on shore. “Yeah, I had a lot of snacks? You know, just in case—” Just in case what? Their plane crashed into the ocean and they suddenly needed food on a deserted island? “In case I got hungry.” He finished lamely, though not untruthfully. He got hungry a lot, and it was something of a problem.

[troublegirl]

"I dunno, it could be worse," she said with a shrug, "could've crashed into a frozen tundra, or directly into an active volcano. Sure, we could still dehydrate in the heat or go nuts and eat each other and then dehydrate, but at least the scenery's pretty."

Because hey, she always wanted to live next to the ocean. The universe generally went out of it's way to make her life difficult, but fuck it. She'd take what she could here.

When Llewellyn confirmed that he had had food in his case - a lot of it, specifically - she looked at him; first to look for a lie, and then to shoot him a grin, before she closed the gap between them long enough to give him a playful push - not rough or hard enough to hurt, for once!

"Yes! Okay, what'd it look like? Please say it was bright screamin' orange or some shit like that, at least then it'll be easy to see."

[gadaboutdetective]

The expression that crossed his face as she ticked off the list of things that could have been worse, equated to: ‘Wow, thanks. I hate it.’ She wasn’t wrong, sure, but putting the mental image of them starving to the point of cannibalism, then dying anyway? Not. Helpful. Magda.

He was anxious on a good day, and this… Was not helping that. Llewellyn liked to be prepared for things, upsets in his planned day were not something he liked and this was all one very large upset in the grand plan. He had people who needed him, after all.

Llewellyn doesn’t really voice all this, he doesn’t have a chance. The playful push (blessedly not hard considering the rest of the day), actually managed to almost send him sprawling. The kid was not stable on his feet, and the sand didn’t help, so Magda was treated to a repeat of earlier as he tried to keep his balance. At some point, the teen was very sure he would fail to do so and he would face plant in the sand.

It was just a matter of time.

But hey, she was excited about food and if she could help him find the bag, then they could both get a snack with plenty left to share with the other survivors for the day at least. “Uh.... Well, it wasn’t orange, no. It was green plaid?” So... kind of loud, in its own way.

[troublegirl]

She caught that look - really, how could she not? - but hey, she was hardly expecting a good reaction. At this point any reaction was good enough for her. Even if the kid was a bit weird, a bit weedy, she was sure as shit that she'd rather have him as company than be stuck here alone. Fuck that noise. So they had different senses of humour; whatever, she could deal.

When it seems that even her attempt to be gentle almost went horribly awry, Magda rolled her eyes, but still looped her arm around his, casual as anything as they walked. Because hey, at least then he wouldn't actually face-plant into the sand. About to comment on his tango with gravity, Llewellyn beat her to the punch when he corrected her assumption.

"Green plaid." She repeated, as if mulling the mental image over - as if any opinion she had on his choice of suitcase would mean literally anything at all, "Eh, better than polka dots. Fuck polka dots. And at least it'll be easier to see, in theory anyway."

[gadaboutdetective]

Was Magda slightly intimidating? Yes, kind of. But a lot of people were, and not in the way he was used to. So aside from being a bit surprised when she took his arm, who was he to complain if she kept him a little more stable? Her unvoiced description of him was really quite accurate, he was usually losing the battle with gravity.

... And you know what? A plane crash was the ultimate ‘defeat against gravity,’ he was kind of done with those for the day.

The repeat of his description gets a small tilt of his head, “Yup, green plaid.” Llewellyn responded to confirm, wondering if there was something wrong with green plaid. He liked green, and he really liked plaid pattern! It had been a birthday present from the twins after his old bag had gotten torn, so he might have been a little more attached to it than one generally got over a bag. He couldn’t help but wonder what was up with polka dots though, her language on the subject was pretty strong!

No, it wasn’t, Llewellyn needed to learn to swear or something. Maybe it was because he was always minding what he said around his younger brothers, or maybe he just found it more fun to say the most random combinations of words. It was probably both.

Glancing at the water, almost as if hoping for a stroke of luck and it just... be there on the beachside, he finally responded. “If it’s washed up, it should be? I... don’t know if it’ll be easier to see if it’s still in the water.”