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Deserted Island

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Sigr

Magenta Goon
Joined
Dec 9, 2016
Location
Spain
Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.

Alejandro had taken a plane to travel far away, broaden his horizons, the first step of many to come for his cooking to improve, but he was scared. Lets face it, you can be some of a renowned chef in that little safe circle that you built for yourself, but you have to take risks if you want to move beyond that. So without knowing shit about the English language maybe it was just a stupid idea to jump into a plane to the other corner of the world, but it was the kind of bold and sudden decision that you could commit to in a moment of courage, knowing that backing off after having the tickets would be harder. Of course, Alejandro had ended up heavily doped up during most of the plane trip, fighting fear to changes and the boredom of a long trip with prescription narcotics, but his cozy trip into unconsciousness was abruptly broken with the accident.

Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.

He didn't know what happened, but he was no longer on a plane. No more reheated food or tired looking stewardesses, people snoring next to him or bad movies on the screen. Alejandro was laying on his back on the beach sand, his clothes already dry by the scolding sun, white marks of sea salt on his comfy and utterly bland beige pants, a disheveled white shirt missing a couple buttons covering his not exactly chubby but a bit soft torso. A few suitcases seemed to have suffered his same destiny, ending on that God forsaken place, while the tore up remains of the tail of a plane where stuck on the rocks half a mile along the beach. His eyes were still closed, the blinding light making it unappealing to open them, his body sore sending small needles of pain to his brain.

Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.

Alejandro's shook brain finally realized that he had been on a plane, and that it had gone down. Where was he? Was he dead? A female voice that came from next to him and yet sounded far could be the one of an angel, and yet, when she started to shake him into consciousness he knew he had survived the accident. "Para, para, estoy bien, que cojones..." he mumbled, opening his eyes, the one that awoke him just a blurry silhouette against the sun.




Character Profiles: https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83110
OOC: https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83109
 
Giulia sat on the comfortable seats of the aircraft and immediately looked outside the window with the eyes of those that says goodbye to their land before a long adventure. She was on her own for this once-in-a-lifetime travel to Japan, where the Visual and Media Arts Expo was about to begin and excitement for this almost sudden decision, the thrill of being so far away in a country so different from her northern-italian flatland sprinkled by tiny cities and its rather slow pacing trough time... she almost daydreamt about the legendary japanese night-districts filled by lights, the bullet trains, the perfectly timed transportations... Giulia sighed and fully leaned against the seat as the hostess smiled at her and made her buckle the belt, <<Ci siamo...>> whispered the girl with a smile, as the aircraft's engines started to push the vehicle over the rolling lane and soon took off.

Hours passed and ran one after the other, with her Mp3 in her ears and her "Guide for Gaijin" in order to be at least not rude in that land made of honor and good manners. But in front of her eyes, the girl saw the hostess run and say something to the passengers; casually removing her earphones, Giulia heard the nervous woman ordering << cinture! CINTURE!>> the emotions in her voice was clear and immediately she went for her seatbelt and with a click, she looked outside but nothing seemed out of place.

Then... it happened

Giulia opened her eyes with a gasp, "...un incubo... un dannato incubo" but the thought of having suffered a bad dream while on her trip soon vanished into thin air, as muscle pains and bruises started to pulse on her skin, warning her of her conditions. Immediately, her heartbeat ran and thumped in her ears as her rounded, brown eyes burned for the saltwater and the incredible warmth of the sun spreading trough the black hoodie she wore, making the italian girl feel like in an oven. Panic immediately took over as her eyes, unable to focus and still foggy, searched around for signs of what actually happened... other passengers... someone...

Rising to her feets with a pained groan, Giulia noticed that her left shoe was missing but there were no other signs of wounds or breaks; just another thing was missing: her glasses. Like a mole, blinded by the saltwater and the scorching sun, she tried to spot the thick black frame in the white sand around her and, luckily, they lied at her feets, probably falling from her tiny nose before she woke.

Putting the thick glasses in place, her eyes started to understand the location: the white sand glared under the sun like a mirror, and the interiors of the beach seemed a forest of palms... not a sound but the sound of the sea.

<<...e...hei>> screamed her as soon as she saw someone over the sand less than a hundred meters away from her. She ran toward the figure, hoping not to see a crab exiting from its mouth like the clichè in every single island-crash movie since the '70s. Ignoring the pain coming from her every muscle in her legs and arms, she approached the figure that seemed breathing <<HEI! Cosa....cosa è successo!? ...stai bene?>> she was almost touching a shoulder to see if she was imagining his breathing when the passenger moved his head and... said something...
 
Silvery pale hair whipped around her face, kept flowing by the offshore wind that came in through the front where the rest of the plane used to be and then funneled out through numerous small holes in the walls of the plane around her. Clean and pure with the rich salt and iodine smell of the open ocean, the wind carried none of the stink of aviation fuel or fire or ozone from electrical shorts that had filled her nose with their fumes and brought clenching terror to Asta's soul when the accident happened. Even now she could hear the screams of the other passengers, the terrible this way and that tumbling and screeching of tearing metal and breaking plastics as the plane just came apart on the surface of the ocean. That had been almost comforting though in comparison to the falling through the sky feeling and the initial brutal roaring winds that had swept through the plane right after...Well, she didn't know what. Only that the enormous plane had suffered some failure and they'd dropped out of the sky.

Asta had been sitting alone in the very back seats of the plane. It wasn't her first time flying, that had been earlier in the week when she took a ride in a very small aircraft with skis on the bottom that took her far away from the siida and into Jokkmokk. Normally she and her family would have traveled there on their own as they did every year for the festival, simply crossing the countryside with a small herd for carrying things and convenient fresh meat along the way. Her siida were more, well if not traditional then less embracing of technology than others. They did have a few ATVs but largely preferred the reindeer and sled. Ingrid had told Asta of a group of people in the American world called the Amish who were kind of the same way, but they chose not to use technology because of their Christianity, not because it was just sometimes better and more reliable and easier to use what Asta's people had always done. Mechanical things and electrical ones were expensive and did not much tolerate the extreme cold or rough living as well as her people and their reindeer. Tradition and necessity made a great combination.

So while not her first plane trip, it was only her second and she'd been utterly confused by and in wonder of the enormous tube stuffed with chairs and people and electrical lights and even cool blowing air. The ladies who took care of the people riding the plane had made complimentary noises about Asta's bright blue and red and yellow clothing and touched it often, which made her feel a little bad she couldn't talk to them but happy smiles all around and from her eased any awkwardness. They'd sensed the other passengers might bother Asta, and knew it was probably more people than the Sami girl saw all year except at the Jokkmokk festival, so they put her in the empty back of the plane. And they'd given her a Coke which was something she had drunk only a few times before and it was just wonderful.

They'd also put Asta's seat belt on, low and firm across her hips, and insisted she leave it on with gestures. Gestures that, with the seatbelt, surely saved her life. She'd seen, worse heard, people being sucked out of the falling plane during the crash and when they'd hit and tumbled, her seatbelt kept Asta safely in the back of the plane. Water had sprayed in and she remembered that before the tail really spun across the top of the waves before passing out. Now the water was just in front of her where she sat still strapped in, leaning forward in the heavily canted seat. It ebbed and flowed with the waves that swayed the tail slightly on its rocky cradle, but the water wasn't coming in to flood it, just licked around the bottom of her feet.

For several minutes she'd been conscious, head hurting and body sore from the crash, but seemingly okay and alive. There was no one else in the tail section, unless the smear of blood across the rent in the side where someone had been pulled out and left part of themselves on the plane counted. That might have been her, if not for the seatbelt, and Asta was reluctant to take it off, as if it was a charm that protected her. Eventually she would have to, she knew, and would have to leave the wreckage but not yet.

She wished Ingrid was here. They'd talked about her coming to meet Asta in Jokkmokk and traveling with her, but something had come up and Ingrid wasn't able to make it work out so Asta was on her own. That wasn't worrying, she often roamed out by herself as part of her normal life, but Ingrid would have known what had happened and what to do better than Asta did so she stayed in the plane until the heat drove her out.

The shallow water didn't come over the top of her boots so her feet stayed dry as Asta carefully made her way outside and onto the rocks. Glare from the sun reflecting off the water, off the sand made her squint and shade her eyes with her left hand, the right steadying her as she climbed across the rocks and onto the beach itself. It was impossibly hot, like being in a sauna inside a sauna, and her heavy clothing was making it worse. Panting from it and from the anxiety of where she was drove Asta towards the shade of a nearby tree, trunk curved like a sled's runner and with strange, fuzzy looking rings around it every quarter meter or so and a spiky broad leaved green canopy that looked comical. Under the palm, though Asta didn't know the name of it, the shade made things a little cooler but still unbearable. Feeling relief come in waves as she pulled off first her reindeer boots and leggings, then her heavy tunic like dress and fringed shawl, Asta divested herself of more and more clothing until she was all but nude having only her lightest long-sleeved shirt on. The hem of it fell to the top of her thighs and just covered her bottom but it was blessedly cool and she could feel the breeze drying the sweat from it and her body, bringing instant relief. Asta used the escape of needing to do something to avoid thinking about what happened to shake the sand off her other clothing and drape it on the curved trunk of the tree to let it dry, keeping only her leather pouch and the heavy woven belt it hung from that she wrapped around her waist. She also kept her boots on, the sand was terribly hot and it just felt so disturbingly wrong between her toes and across her instep.

It was so hot! And she was thirsty! Though her people didn't much get by the ocean she knew the inviting looking water, and so much of it like the endless tundra itself, she knew the water wasn't drinkable. Was there water, or even Cokes, still on the plane? The lavatory had been right behind her seat, noisy and with strange swirling blue water in a metal bowl, but there had been a sink with clean water to wash your hands. Maybe it still worked? Or maybe -

Maybe there was something in some of the luggages that might still be in the bins that had been above her head. It wasn't her stuff, and she would never steal, but there might be something useful in it, or a bottle of water or something.

The coconuts near her feet, fallen from the tree overhead, didn't even register as anything but odd hairy, husky rocks.

Asta reluctantly left the shade of the palm, hand still over her eyes as shade, and the hammering sun was like a physical thing on her pale skin. After clambering up on the rocks and getting near the tail again, Asta paused to turn in a slow circle, squinting to see the land around her.

It was impossibly green and lush. Trees and plants grew down near to the beach and there were just so many of them! It was beautiful and a sense of wonder filled her for seeing it so that Asta initially didn't notice the couple on the sandy beach, tiny tiny figures almost a kilometer away but noticeable because of their shape and the fact that at least one of them moved.
 
Kim-Ly was super excited, she finally got to fly across the ocean and study at an American College. She was going to be a marine biologist and get a job with a science group that would pay enough for her to move away from her home country. She had grown tired of the various tasks she was required to undertake in the thick vegetation of Vietnam, as well as the confucian practices that allowed men to treat women as their objects. The truth of it is, if she hadn't left the country to go and study some guy would have tried to marry her and make her bear his offspring. She couldn't be more than happy to bored the plane. Soon she would be on the west coast studying various specspecimens of sea life.


Being from a rural family she hadn't expected for the inside of the plane to be so cool. Use to the temperature and humidity in Vietnam, Kim-Ly had worn a pair of tan cargo shorts that extended about a third of the way down her thigh, as well as a purple tank top and a pair of tan work boots where you could see her white socks sticking out of the top by about an inch because they had been pushed down to the top of the boots. Outside in the humid city the outfit made Kim-Ly feel great, but once she bored the plane it changed almost immediately. Slightly annoyed, she decided to sleep for most of the flight. Closing her eyes Kim-Ly fell asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately it wasn't long before she was woken up by the sounds of screams and metal bending and tearing. This couldn't be! She was finally getting to leave and now the plane was crashing?!


Kim-Ly held onto her seat as hard as she could and squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could. Judging by the amount of rocking her seat was doing she could see that it was going to be one of the seat that got ripped out of the metal box. Before long her suspicion had been confirmed as she felt the seat stop rocking and a force pulling on her seat. Moments later she was dragged out of the plane and was tumbling through the air for about three seconds before the back of her seat slammed into the water. With a quick gesture, Kim-Ly pulled a cord on the bottom of the chair that caused small floatation devices to inflate on the bottom of the chair. After her seat should that it was going to float, she pulled her legs out of the water and wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. Moments later she passed out.


Kim-Ly had no idea how long she had been floating but her seat had been washed a shore and got wedged between some rocks. The splash of water on her face awoke her. With a little bit of hesitation she wiped her face and unbuckled her belt before climbing up onto the surface of the rock. She could see the tail end of the plane as well as a young girl who seemed to be taken back by the scene. Unfortunately Kim-Ly couldn't see the other two in the distance. With a quick movement she tied her long black hair up into a bun. She found a peice of clothing floating in the water and picked it up ripping a strand off to use as a hair tie. She let out a small sigh before moving closer to the palm trees. She picked up twith of the freshest looking coconuts she could find on the ground and bit down into the shell. Once she had a good hold she began peeling away the green fibrous she'll with in the matter of minutes she had both of the coconuts husker down showing a white shell. Contrary to popular belief coconuts don't come out brown and fuzzy but rather start off green and white. She looked around for a medium sized rock and with a few strong taps she busted open the tops of the coconuts. She picked up the shells and walked over to the young girl. " nước dừa? " she asked and held out one of the coconuts. " Bạn có thể cần nó để giữ hydrated " She added to the statement still holding the coconut out with a gentle smile.
 
Masked by the waves on the rocks and the rushing wind past her ears, Asta didn't hear the woman approach and when her voice called out something it was a shock. Asta let out a surprised sound, not quite a gasp, and turned quickly to look at who was speaking, crouching just slightly in instinct. For a few seconds nothing about it made sense. The woman was incredibly tall, like some of the Swedes and Norwegians who came to festival to see and trade with her people, but so slender compared to them. And her hair, it was the black of polished reindeer hoof, and almost as shiny. Her skin was fair like Asta's, though not quite the same shade, and the only thing that didn't surprise her was the turned up look of her eyes. That was common enough in her part of the world that it was just normal, if still slightly unusual to see in combination with everything else.

She had to be from the plane as well, Asta knew, otherwise how else could she be there? Unless, unless maybe she lived nearby and happened to see the wreck and had come to help? Where was her family though, her brothers and sisters and father and uncles and aunts and everyone else? Then Asta noticed the disheveled state of her clothing and the ragged bit of fabric that held her silky black hair out of her face. That was a good idea, and the way her own fluttered across her vision made her want to do the same, or at least plait it into a braid and take care of it that way.

The woman, not a girl Asta decided, kept looking at her with a smile as her hands offered the two halves of the coconut. They looked a bit like a kuksa that had lost its handle and the resemblance to the traditional wooden cup made Asta realize that there was something wet and off white inside, a liquid of some sort. Thirst made caution vanish and she scurried the last few meters to the woman and grabbed one of the coconut halves out of her hand. It felt rough and fibrous but the interior was a pretty white and smelled delicious even though she didn't know what it was. Asta looked uncertainly at the woman, who was still smiling, then tentatively lifted the coconut half to her lips and sipped.

It was warmer than blood and had a flavor that was slightly sweet but it was the wetness of it, the promise of taking the edge off her thirst that made Asta gulp it down and all too soon the half was empty. Wiping her finger around the inside to get the last of it, Asta found that part of the fruit, or meat of the coconut, flaked off and she brought it to her mouth after a look at the woman to make sure it was okay to eat. The flesh was flaky and crunchy and flooded her mouth with more moisture and Asta chewed it fully, feeling flaky bits of it crunch and shred between her teeth, before squeezing it between them and her lips to force all the moisture out of them. She squatted in the shade the woman's tall body cast.

"Giitu. Giitu," she repeated and held up the coconut half as her head bobbed and she smiled, happy for the moment and for the promise of life that the coconut put back in her body. And very, very happy to know she wasn't alone. "Mu namme lea Asta. Asta," she said and touched her chest. "Asta."
 
Giulia heard the guy muttering something between a coff and spit sand; the girl sighed in relief at the thought that he was alive and seemingly unhurted, not that internal damages would be noticeable, but aside from minor bruises and scratches, the man seemed fine. Still, the thought of that brief relief, inadvertently relaxed the girl that now realized how warm the scorching sun was: all of her clothes, drenched in saltwater and sand, started to feel skintight and burning with salt; the sun's heat radiates trough the imbibed clothes acting like a cuirass made of hot seawater and heavy fabrics. Giulia gasped, feelings of nausea and overheating rushed trough her body, feeling an uncomfortable, scary suffucating feeling at her throat... << ...caldo... troppo... caldo...>> panted her groaning at her aching limbs while fevirishly going to remove her black hoodie. As soon as the black fabric was removed and she remained with her blue tank-top, she felt the gentle breeze of the sea lowering her temperature, drying and rinsing her drenched clothes, emitting a satisfied sigh. Still, it soon turned to be the same unbearable dry hotness... with a gasp, she jumped-sat on the sand and removed her shoe and white socks, leaving her pants rolled up to the knees.

Standing up, she looked around; the sun burning on her pale skin and the salty tank top, now rinsed, stood tightly clinged to her plump, large bosom, making her feel tight in the chest. She looked around for a longer time << palme, palme, palme, sabbia, mare>> she described what she saw as to give herself the certainess of what her eyes saw, sadly, not another survivor... nor a corpse... nor a bag... nothing was there. still, not too far away, the white mass of the shoreline broke into a dark cluster with a whiteish triangle on the right side. Squinting her eyes and fixing the glasses with an hand and covering it from the sun with the other, she recognized the whiteish triangle for what was the tail-fin of an aircraft, still, she didn't recognized the emblems on it... maybe she've forgotten the line she flew with...

<<...aspetta un momento...>> her drying eyes spotted something else near the green wall of the forest... two... figures... moving... <<...g... gente! >> exclaimed her waving her hands at those figures, hoping to be seen. She jooged for the few meters that separated her from the unknown man, she squatted nearby and pointed at the direction of the figures << Altri! >>
 
Alejandro was starting to be able to clearly see, as he was able to notice that the one shaking him into awareness was a bespectacled curvy woman, speaking nonsense and visibly agitated. "Estoy bien, no pasa nada" he groaned, sitting up on the sand, even if things had gone violently south he was thankful of not having any noticeable injuries. The woman seemed to have it worse, wrestling part of her clothes out of her, the scalding sun making a number on her. Alejandro wanted to help, but he was feeling sore and just trying to get up seemed an heroic task. Luckily his clothes were quite light, so he wasn't feeling the need to remove anything, as it wouldn't be of much help.

The woman was muttering things for herself, and the scattered words that he heard made no sense for him. For a moment the stupid idea that she was talking about broth confused the hell out of him, until his shocked mind managed to catch up and notice that she was talking Italian. That was a bummer, as the only parts of that language he knew were food related, about dishes and such, so understanding her would be a pain. Their languages weren't so different though, so maybe he could make himself understand, specially since the girl seemed smarter than him, or so he thought. Rolling to a side, Alejandro managed to get in all fours, then knelt in his laborious road to verticality. He checked once again for injuries, but he didn't seem to have any, so it was just a matter of getting the ball rolling, starting to get moving so he could shake that numbness out of him.

"¿Gente?" he asked, catching a known word on the woman's screams. "¿Dónde hay más gente?" he asked, looking around, seeing the woman wave and then come back to him. She crouched and pointed, so Alejandro could finally see something far away, something that moved, seemingly the woman was right, there were more survivors around. Survivors. Just the thought of it made him glad he was one of them, but at the same time unnerved him. "Espera un segundo, ayúdame un momento..." Alejandro tried to lean on the woman, laboriously managing to get up. "Ay joder, en menuda mierda nos hemos metido..." he groaned, looking at his surroundings now that he was standing off. "¿Vamos o esperamos?" he asked, unsure if she could understand him.
 
<<... p...pasanada?...>> repeated Giulia while looking him with a puzzled expression as the man said again something uninteligible that, if ever, reminded her of a breaded and fried dish, yet she hinted that he was spanish ; But for what she knew, people said that spanish and italian were similar, but to her, it was just a nonsense jibberish said by people that already knew both languages. She sighed, "almeno è vivo..." thought her, thinking that at least he's alive...

<<Si, Gente! La in fondo>> said her again, pointing at the tail-fin of the aircraft, she saw the man to groan and mutter something again, he slowly knelt and went on all fours. The girl looked at him, not knowing what he was doing, then... <<...oh... 'spetta 'ne...>> she moved closer and moved to his side, placing an arm under his armpit and lifted him up, pushing against the soft, thin, white sand <<oplà...>> sighed her once he was on his feet. Still... whatever he said, was unknown and she just looked at him trough her salt-stained glasses. She looked around, seeing that there was nothing around them and her lips moved as to say something, but she didn't know what to say <<...uh....>> she limited to mimic a walk with her fingers << uh... andiamo?>>
 
Kim-Ly smiled as the girl took the coconut and began drinking the liquid from inside the white shell. As the young lady drank she began to drink out of her coconut. She gulped down the sweet liquid, approximately eight ounces, and looked around to spot anything that might be useful to their survival. Kim-Ly knew that they would need another source of water as too much coconut water would create a laxative effect and cause diarrhea, which was not could for staying hydrated. After the teen had finished drinking, Kim-Ly noticed she was pointing to her self and saying a few words that were unknown to kim. But as she repeated the word Asta, Kim-Ly figured that was her name. "Bạn là Asta? Tôi là Kim-Ly." She said pointing to the pale woman in front of her for the first part before copying Asta and placing her hand on her chest for the second half. " Kim-Ly " She repeated tapping on her chest gently.


As she attempted to introduce her self to the female of unknown origin, Kim-Ly noticed a figure waving in the background. " Nhìn! những người! Chúng ta không cô đơn! Có những người sống sót khác! " The young Vietnamese woman exclaimed, her voice showing signs of excitement and joy. Kim knew it would be easier to survive if there were others because they could work together to gather the resources that they need as well as conserve some energy by not having to do everything by themselves. She pointed to the figures of in the distance. " Nào! Cho phép họ lấy nước dừa! " Kim-Ly exclaimed grabbing two more fresh coconuts and began walking towards the other survivors. She made a waving signal to Asta in hopes she would stick with her. Kim-Ly felt bad for the young girl because she knew how hard it can be to live in a tropical place and judging by the girls clothing that hung from the palm tree the girl wasn't from a tropical place so it would be a bit more difficult for the young teen.

Kim-Ly continued to walk over to the two figures in the distance. She placed one coconut under her arm and held it in place between her elbow and her rib cage. She took the other coconut and began husking it the same way she did with the previous two, by bitting down into the shell and getting a good grip before pulling away ripping of large strips of the fibrous cover. She repeated the process until it was just the white shell underneath that remained before switching it out with the other one and repeating the process. She looked over her shoulder occasionally to check up on the young girl she had just met to make sure she was still okay. " Do you want some coconut water? Its sweet and will help if you are thirsty. " Kim-Ly said as she approached the other couple holding out the two coconuts for them. Of course they still needed to be broken open to reach the sweet nectar inside. She had a gentle smile on her face as she waited for a response from the two.
 
Giulia walked toward the moving figures in the distance, feeling the scorching sun over her pale skin and the white sand, so soft and hot under her feets at each quick step. For a brief moment, her brown eyes looked at her left, seeing the lush forest, coconuts palms and tropical trees. On her right, the sea. Or was it the ocean? Starting from the slightest of turquoises of hues near the shore, to the deepest blue at the horizon. Squinting her eyes at the horizon, she spotted, from wave to wave, flashes of bright coloured pieces, certainly broken plates of the aircraft and its content.

As to shake the cursed thought of the plane crash from her mind, the curvy girl kept her eyes in front of her until, step by step, she started to notice the first features of the walking being, walking with open-wide arms, as if carrying something underneath them. In the final steps, Giulia ran toward the figure until she saw the lines of an asian woman. <<C-ciao...>> said the italian girl with an hinted wave of her hand, again, for what started to seem a cruel joke of the fate, she too spoke an uncomprensible grabbelot of words that flew right over Giulia's ears, that, instead kept looking at her. With a quick glance at the asian woman, she seemed friendly, and kind too... eyes do not lie but there was something almost surreal about the whole situation.

Giulia remained silent for a second << ...ma che...oh...saremo mica morti, vero? ...>> asked her in disbelief; A plane crash... only those four seemingly survived... everything else was gone and they, for what they knew, were lost somewhere on the planet... and still... she felt a strange lack of fear, grief, sadness, desperation, abandon. "...siamo tutti morti... oppure" The girl kept thinking to herself adjusting the thick frame of her glasses "...oppure non ce ne siamo ancora resi conto..." The rational part of her brain awoke, and, reassured by the more comfortable thought of being still under shock rather than dead, she tried to smile back at the asian girl in front of her, also opening her arms wide and shrugged <<...non capisco...>>
 
Kim-Ly, Asta was pretty sure it was her name though the tongue she spoke had intonations that were so foreign to her she wasn't sure where one word ended and another began. There were also a lot of rising and falling sounds and it sounded partially angry because of the sounds the words, she was pretty sure they were words, ended on were combative to Asta's ears, especially when Kim-Ly sounded excited like she had before taking off across the beach. She had stopped for more of the white fleshed fruit and Asta paid careful attention to how the tall woman gathered and prepared it.

Among her people there wasn't really a concept of teacher and student. You learned by doing, by helping and watching and serving as an apprentice but the relationship wasn't formalized and strict. It just was and anyone could work with anyone else and expect to be shown how to do things by doing them, by making mistakes. Kim-Ly knew how to harvest the strange food so Asta learned from her and even though she wasn't totally sure about it yet, she had an inkling of what a coconut was and how to harvest one.

If only she had her knife! That had been required to be checked with her baggage and it had been explained that it was because people got in fights on the plane and tried to crash them. Maybe that's what happened? But still, if she'd been allowed to keep her knife on her belt it would be with her now and she'd have the most basic, essential tool of her people. It wasn't fair.

Kim-Ly seemed like a natural leader and Asta wondered if it was because she felt at home on this land. Certainly she knew how to find food and drink and she'd only know that if she lived here, or someplace very much like here. If they were in her lands, Asta would take the same role, like when Ingrid had first come to live with them and Ingrid's home was much closer to Asta's than Asta's was to where they'd crashed. Content to follow for the moment, and very much not wanting to be alone, Asta kept up with the tall woman and was with her when they met the two new people.

One was a girl, like them, well a woman anyway. She was older than Asta and was shorter than Kim-Ly. Her glasses made her look smart, like she spent a lot of time looking closely at things and squinting so she needed them and Asta wondered what she did with her people. The other was a man, a city man with the body of a city man. It wasn't bad, it just meant he ate more grains than meat and she would do the same thing if it was more readily available. Eyes somewhere between blue and green seemed kind enough so Asta give him a smile before looking expectantly at Kim-Ly.

It didn't bother her that no one spoke her language. Ingrid had said that there were less than fifty thousand people who did, and it took a bit of thinking of how many reindeer that was to make sense of a number so large. None of them looked like a Finn either, and the way they gathered together willingly also told her they weren't Finns so no chance of having some words in common either. But surely they could talk to each other, right? They didn't look the same but maybe that was normal here.
 
The Italian woman indicated him to walk so they could meet those figures, and even if he could manage and had an easier time with each step, his body was still feeling numb. He followed the full figured woman until they met the other two people halfway through, a couple of women. One of them looked Asian, her shorts and tank top giving her an adventurous look complemented by the fact that she was carrying two coconuts that she seemed to be offering to them. He regretted not knowing English, although who knew if those people talked it, at least he could have tried to. The other woman, way younger than the rest of them was almost like a ghost, a snowflake trapped on a tropical island with her pale... everything. Alejandro soon noticed that even if she seemed young and her height and round face made her look cute, what could be seen of her body on that odd long shirt she was wearing betrayed a way better physique than his soft one.

Noticing that he had been staring at the unusual figure, he averted his eyes and was about to mindlessly accept the coconut from the other one when he ended up aware that he didn't have anything to open it. "Ay que joderse, si tuviera mis cuchillos aquí..." he mumbled, regretful, then his face illuminated for a moment, looking at the sea. Crouching by the sand, he took a nearby stick and tried to focus. "Acabar en una isla jugando al puto pictionary, si me vieran mis amigos se iban a partir el culo" sighed, starting to draw with it in the sand.

Alejandro traced a rectangle with kind of a handle on top, then pointed at the luggage spilled around the shore and close to the plane's tail. "A ver si seguimos teniendo suerte" he said. He made a gesture of grabbing things, then pulling them to his chest. Unsure if it was working, perhaps it would be better if he tried to make an example of himself. Alejandro went into the water, grabbed the closest luggage that floated around and dragged it to the safety of the sand. They would need everything they could get, and for a moment he wished that he could find his suitcase, and is had something not only important for him, but also useful for the group if they were to stay there for a while until rescued. The movement was suiting him fine, and even if it was tiresome, it was better than being lying down on the sand. He was thirsty as hell, but without a way to open those things he would have to endure.
 
Kim-Ly could see that the other two survivors couldn't understand her. Seeing the woman shrug told her that the female didn't seem to understand that the coconut would hydrate her. Then she noticed the man draw something in the sand. It looked like a suit case and then he made some motions with his arms. She had a feeling he was wanting them to grab some of the floating luggage. This thought was only reinforced when he walked over to the water and began grabbing a case. " Chào! Ông bạn cần phải uống! Dừa có nước! Chỉ cần đập vỡ nó trên một tảng đá sắc nét. " She called to the man as he walked towards the waves that crashed into the white sand. Kim-Ly let out a soft sigh as she looked around. She made sure to pay close attention to the shadows cast by the sun and noticed that the shadows were getting shorter. This meant the sun was still rising, putting the time at about ten or eleven. Knowing they still had a majority of the day, Kim-Ly wasn't too worried about making shelter but she did want to get everyone to try and stay out of the sun.

She quickly picked up the stick that the other man used to draw the luggage. With a quick gesture she drew a oval shape and then a plus sign followed by what seemed like a rock. " Dừa cộng với đá bằng uống. " She said placing a coconut down on top of the oval. " Dừa " she repeated and pointed to the coconut. She quickly pointed the stick to a rock and said " Đá " before sticking the stick into the sand and drawing an equal sign and water appeared to be a glass of water. " Dừa cộng với đá bằng uống. " She said pointing to the items again. She assumed that the lady with the glasses would be smart enough to understand what she was trying to say and with that she sat the other coconut on the ground next to the first.

With a temporary source of water, Kim-Ly moved onto the next important thing for survival, food. She looked around at the dense jungle with a small sigh. She knew that there would be some form of protein with in the vegetation but it could take them for ever to find anything. Then it clicked. She looked back over to the ocean. " Cá cá cá cá " she mumbled repeatedly and placed a hand on her forehead with the other one rested on her hip. She remembered reading about some fishing methods that a small tribe did that lived on an island near papua new guinea. She perked up with excitement as she looked out at the ocean but her joy soon vanished as she realized there wasn't enough people for that method.


After a moment the young Asian looked back over to the tail end of the plane and noticed a couple pieces of jagged metal hanging off. This jogged her memory and gave her a brilliant idea. With haste she ran over to the plane and began pulling a long piece of metal that was barley hanging on to the remaining part of the plane. The peice of metal she now held in her hands was roughly the size of a machete. Her family had made several machetes out of crashed helicopters from the Vietnam war. She took a rock and began smashing it on one end to dull out the edge and make a handle before wrapping it in a palm leaf. With their new tool she tan back over to them and up to the edge of the shore where the tide would cover once it rose. Kim knelt down and began digging a hole in the sand. She took the sand she moved from the hole and placed a wall around the hole. She then started to make a funnel like entrence to the wall with the wide opening facing the ocean and the narrow end dropping off into the hole and wall. This would allow them to collect fish over night. With a sense of accomplishment, Kim got up and walked over to a tree and leaned up against it. " Khi thủy triều lên cao, nó sẽ lấp đầy lỗ bằng nước. Sau đó, cá sẽ bơi vào các ống khói xung quanh bức tường và bị mắc kẹt trong lỗ khi thủy triều xuống. Khi mà tất cả những gì chúng ta phải làm là thu thập cá. " She said even though she knew that they probably didn't understand her.
 
Giulia heard the man on her side starting to mutter something... probably prayers... or curses... if only she knew spanish... Whatever the man said, she saw him smile and move his hands to the offered coconuts <<...oh. Uhhhh>> whispered the italian tourist with a shy, awkward smile while her hands moved too to the offered coconuts, as the heat turned to be more and more unbearable, made barely acceptable by the dry, fresher seabreeze that removed humidity from the air, air that othwerwise felt like breathing a thick, dense, salty waters.

Trough her thick glasses, Giulia eyed the asian woman, so lean and athletic, sporting clothes that would have fit a character like Lara Croft and now handing them those coconuts, at this point, imagining her climbing a bent and curverd palmtree like an alpine goat, without efforts and grace, and behind the asian woman, a ghost of girl... so pale that if she would have get over the sand, people would barely aknowledge her presence; yet, her face was full and rounded, proper of people living in the cold, at that thought she started thinking she was russian... or at least some part of the endless russian territories and relative endless list of ethnicities.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound of scribbling, of sand being scratched and moved, looking on the ground, she saw the presumably spanish man drawing an envelope? No... it was... a trolley! And then... he suggested taking them. Giulia nodded <<...giusto...>> again, she was about to speak, but nodody would understand, so she tried to mimic, at the best she could have managed. Rising one finger << Prima >> and then, she repeated the same gesture of the spanish guy. Trolleys were a valuable source of things, now. Then, rotating her right index finger, making it roll as indicating something coming later << pooooooi >> at this point, she indicated the sun, now scorching their skins, but, as in any place, in a few hours will sink under the sea. As to enrich her point, she painted a sun on the sand, then, an arrow pointed to an half-moon... and what seemed a tent of some sort.

Seeing the asian woman going for the aircraft and the man going to recover floating baggages, she sighed and assumed that the shelter was on her own... unless the tiny and presumably still in late-childhood girl decided to help her... admitting she would understand << Beh... se proprio ci si perdesse di vista, almeno sempre qui si è...>> said her with a shrug, while moving toward the forest; immediately the air felt fresher and richer of oxygen, while her skin tingled and started to burn for the exposition under the sun and the saltwater bath, the curvy girl started to search for a shelter... a tree... a place that would have been safe for the night or, as she feared, the many nights to follow. Moving her delicate feets from a root to the other, slowly searching for openings or big trees that would offer a repair from the sun and the presumably daily tropical rainfalls.

Time passed; it was seconds... minutes?... hours? Was she lost? Were the others suspecting her to be dead in the depths of the island? Giulia lost track of time and started feeling a sense of anguish, abandonment, solitude, but the distant voice of the companions in this mis-adventure reassured her while satting on a large trunk in order to pass to the other side.

<<...qui ci sta...>> said her while examining an opening in the canopy, an opening that allowed a lot of sunlight to pass trough, yet, the trees nearby would offer protection from the sun and as well from the winds, moving around the trunk, she noticed that a mangrove tree offered a safe base where the group could retire during the night, with alot of space for a fire and repairs.

Following the voices of the team, Giulia soon returned to the beach, where the burning sand cooked her feets and the sun resumed the broiling of her light skin, this time, she just waved at them, indicating a roof with her arms, spotting the man dragging the lost baggage to the beach and the asian woman digging in the sand.

"A roof, coconuts and whatever we see from the baggages" thought her "we might even survive this", with this, she approached the others...
 
Everyone had something to do and everyone was doing it. True to the independent, self-assured leader that Asta believed Kim-ly to be, the tall Vietnamese woman was soon hammering and digging and generally making something and doing something, though Asta didn't understand. The girl with the glasses had wandered off into the interior of the island, she thought it was an island anyway, and Asta soon lost sight of her. That left the man with the foresight to try to draw something in the sand to overcome their language problems. Him she worried about.

It wasn't that he seemed a little soft, that was just because he probably lived in a big city, maybe as big as Jokkmokk!, and that he probably had a job like Ingrid's. The researcher had been the same way when she'd first come to them but a few months of moving with her people and eating their diet soon made Ingrid sleek and svelte and she'd turned more than one Sami boy's head. Asta figured that honestly it was probably a good thing the man had a little cushion, the slight layer of fat would be useful energy in this place where other than the dubious promise of fish and the few coconuts gathered so far meant they'd all be living lean. It wouldn't be the first time for her.

Kim-Ly was being industrious, the other girl was out of sight, and the nice man was working harder than his physique suggested he could. That was what worried Asta, knowing how exhausted the experience had made her feel and how the man seemed to move like he was not fully well. He could be bleeding inside and not even know it, or collapse in the water and then have to be pulled out. There were times to work and times not to work and he needed not to work.

Asta waited until he brought the next luggage up then her fingers twined across his on the handle and she smiled at him, then lifted the weight of it and helped him move it out of the edge of the water. Instead of letting him drop it just beyond the surf, Asta tugged on it and nodded her head towards a stand of the curved trunk white fruit water trees. Another tug and head nod, and a wave of her free hand, and she tried to persuade him to let her lead him under the shade and pile the luggage there.

"Boahtit," she urged him with her voice. "Boahtit." and she pulled on the handle again, but kept her fingers on his so he wouldn't let go and would come along with her.
 
"Si ya se que se puede beber el coco, pero hace falta abrirlo primero, entonces en lugar de dejarme las pelotas intentando partirlo prefiero ver si podemos encontrar..." Alejandro sighed, finally knowing that his tirade would get him nowhere. He thought they had understood him, but the Asian one went to do her own thing and the Italian went inland to do... who knew, perhaps something related to seeking refuge. Only the younger one stood with him, but she didn't seem to understand him either, as she was looking at him with a worried face. "Todo va a salir bien, no te preocupes. Nos las arreglaremos hasta que nos encuentren, no pasa nada" he tried to comfort her, even if he had trouble believing his own words and she didn't even understand them, so she would have to work with his tired smile and slow nodding.

Since the women were doing their own stuff and the girl was... scared? Concerned? That left only him to recover the luggage around. Maybe the girl didn't know how to swim? A little bout of luck smiled at him, as he noticed something while he was dragging the luggage out. Not too far in the water, he could see the white, red and green of the Basque Country flag that betrayed that suitcase as his. He had to get it as soon as he left the one he was carrying, and he was surprised of the small girl helping him. There was something odd about her touch, as she was gentle with it, but her hands were the ones of a person that worked hard, strong and somewhat rough.

She was pulling him to the trees, maybe she wanted to help, or show him something. Her fingers were on top of his, her language sounding urgent. He was fine with following her, but first he had to recover his luggage, now that luck had make it drift closer to him. Alejandro followed the girl so he could leave the luggage in the shadow of the tree, but she seemed to have plans of her own. He couldn't stop with her now and trying to decipher what she wanted, he had to keep working, keep pushing forward as he always did, but the girl couldn't understand it. Pausing for a moment, Alejandro knelt on the sand, leaning on the luggage both him and the girl were carrying to write on the sand, this time with his left index finger, so he was doing what he could.

"Esto es importante" Alejandro said, even if the girl couldn't understand. He draw a suitcase once more, but this time he drew additional lines crossing it, mimicking the flag that was painted on his luggage. Its content forced him to register and lock it, but they should be able to force it open with a rock or something.

sLXwBet.jpg


Alejandro pointed at the drawing, then to him, back to the drawing, then to him. The third time he did so, he replaced the pointing to himself with a couple of claps in his chest, near to his heart. If the meaning of the gesture was lost to the girl, maybe the passion that impregnated the gesture wouldn't. He leaned back on the luggage to prop himself up, hoping that she understood him, but his knees wouldn't answer. "Que cojones..." he muttered, surprised. He tried harder, but that only served for him to fall flat on his side, releasing the luggage he was carrying. He could still feel his legs, but they wouldn't answer, strained to their limit, as Alejandro wasn't someone that exercised much, his job being the only source of physical work.

His arms still worked, so he tried to drag his sorry ass back into the shadow, sitting against a tree. Now it was his hand the one grasping the girl's strongly. Alejandro pointed to his drawing on the sand, then to the sea, hoping that the girl could understand.
 
Not too far away from the group, Giulia started to walk toward them, see if she could help with a task as she spotted what would do a fine place where to rest and make a sort of base-camp, seeing the asian woman digging with the face of who knows what is doing and the other two moving luggages from the waters to the sandy beach, she had the impression that they really were in vacation... nobody had felt sorrow... or shock... or maybe they were just lieing to themselves and hiding a fragile and shattered heart but keeping a strong appearance, maybe it was a silent primitive survivalist instinct, not to scare the others and try to keep all the pieces together. Suddently, the man that was drawing something on the sand with the nordic girl fell on the ground, Giulia gasped and immediately started to move and reach them, but the same nordic girl, almost effortlessly, helped the spanish guy to move under the fresher trees, his legs clearly heavy and difficult to move.

Panting, the italian girl appeared and, with a nod of her chin, indicated the man <<...che è successo?>> asked her naturally looking the two, realizing a few seconds later, with the lack of feedback on her question and the empty eyes of the two that heard her question. "eddai però!" thought her cursing the linguistic barrier of the group; she then indicated that she saw him fall on the ground and being dragged there, Giulia then passed an hand on her forehead, emitting a groan of pain and grimacing, as if something was hurting her, then, pointed him again, hoping that he was not going to die under their eyes due to an internal damage or a heat-stroke... that would be a real danger given their undreadyness in that climate... as, at the moment, the only one that could keep the group alive was the asian one and her ability on handling coconuts and... squinting her eyes, she saw her digging near the shoreline...
 
The young Asian woman noticed him collapse and immediately stopped what she was doing. She had built a sand wall about four feet tall around the hole so it would be strong enough to stand the waves of the incoming tide. She took her makeshift machete and grabbed one of the coconuts she had already husked. Kneeling down in the shade in front of him, she put the coconut on the ground in front of her and held it with one hand the other grasping the rugged machete made from salvaged metal in the air. " Đồ ngốc! Tôi đã nói với bạn để uống từ dừa! Nhưng không có bạn chỉ cần bắt đầu lấy túi ngay! Bạn cần nước ngay bây giờ! " She said rapidly her tone emitted a sound of frustration, worry, and I told you so. With one swing she cut about a three fourths of the way through the shell. She pushes the blade away from the coconut breaking off the top of the shell. " Bây giờ uống! " she said holding up the coconut to him. She looked into his eyes with a look of concern. It is very possible that he could be injured internally. Which would result in a slow painful death.
 
Aerin sat aboard the plane among the normal passengers, he refused to take special treatment for his condition, besides there were plenty of others that could get better use out of the handicap seating than he could. His blue eyes scanned over the passengers, seeing some making conversation with one another, some reading or playing games, and others sleeping. A smile split his face at the normalcy of it all. Returning his attention to his book, one of probably hundreds about survival he had read over the years.

Learning to surf, rock climb, ski, were all challenges in their selves, but one of the biggest challenges he could easily over come, the rock climbing being one of the more dangerous as he would have to feel the vibrations of something coming down a mountain since he couldn't very well hear it. This newest fascination for him was doing a survival camp out with a group of friends. Two weeks in the wild with nothing but their skills and wits to provide. As head strong as he was Aerin wasn't stupid, putting himself in a completely isolated environment was a bad idea for anyone, but especially so when one of his senses didn't work. He would need other people to help him, it wouldn't matter what he accomplished as a deaf man if he got himself mauled by a bear that he didn't hear coming. Still he was determined to be as useful as everyone else on the trip if not more so.

A light jolt caused him to bounce. Looking up from the book he watched as passengers looked around curiously while others just ignored it. He assumed it was a spot of turbulence, nothing to worry about. Then came a second, much stronger shake that was proceeded by a near constant vibration. People around him were starting to move around more, looks of concern painted on their faces. Turning back in his seat he watched as an attendant quickly walked down the aisle a look of minor panic on her face. Frowning he lifted himself up and looked back a few rows to where two of his friends sat.

With a few quick gestures of his hands he was replied to with a shrug and more hand gestures. Turning back to sit he looked up and saw the "Please Fasten Seatbelts" light on. Complying he felt the vibration become a tremble, and then a full blow tremor that was shaking the plane. Gripping the arms of his seat Aerin watched as others did much the same, or tired to comfort those around them. The lights started to flicker and the plane felt like it was trying to shake itself apart. Oxygen masks came down and he watch in the premanent silence of his world as the passengers began to panic.

Silent screams haunted him as he watched looks of unrestrained terror fill the faces he could see. The strongest jar of them all hit and if it wasn't for his seatbelt Aerin knew he would have been thrown from his seat. Head whipping around eyes wide he watched people crying and screaming. Suddenly he felt a blast of air ripping at his face and hair. Looking back he saw a wall of the plane torn away. He watched the chaos unfold devoid of all sounds and for the first time in his life thankful he couldn't hear. Turning back as far as he could he peeked over the back of the seat and saw that several rows of seats were missing. One of those missing rows contained his friends.

An icy spike of dread pierced his heart. His best friends were dead, and soon everyone else on the plane would be. He felt the plane's nose moving earthward. Gripping his seat he let out a scream of terror himself, feeling it in his chest and throat but not hearing it. Another sharp jerk and suddenly Aerin's world was spinning out of control. As the plane spun through the sky on a crash course to the earth below he couldn't tear his eyes away from the hole in the wall that was ripped further open. He saw chairs being pried loose from the force of spin and air pressure. Watched helpless as lives were flung from the plane. The spinning getting to his head and the last thing he saw before blacking out was the tail end of the plane whipping past and nearly hitting the part he was in. Finally the darkness of unconsciousness graced him moments before impact with the water.

An untold time later Aerin's eyes snapped open and he sat upright with a cry of fear. It took a few moments but finally his senses returned to him. He was laying on a beach, the waves washing over his sore body. Rubbing his face and groaning he pushed himself up to his feet. Looking out across the pristine water he saw that it stretched unbroken for miles. Looking down the beach in either direction he saw no signs of people. A swell of panic tried to rise in his gut but he pushed it down. Now wasn't the time to loose his head. Turning from the water he looked inland and smiled.

There was a virtual jungle behind him, which meant he could find plants to eat. At the same time he knew there would be predictors of some sort in those trees, something that could stalk silently through the brush and be on him without him ever knowing. Pushing the thought aside he first needed to find out if there were other survivors.

He needed to see what he resources he still had on him. Being prepared for his trip was important and Aerin spared no expense on his tools. On his right wrist was the Adventure and on the left the Mountaineer models of survival bracelets. Nearly $160 worth of survival gear disguised as simple bracelets. His friends has teased him for spending so much money on them but now that he was stuck on an unknown island he was glad he did. The thought of his friends sent pangs of guilt through him. He survived but did they? He could only hope so but they were one of the first people that were thrown from the plane. Chances were better than not that they had died. Reaching into his back pocket he let out a groan. His wallet was missing. He had a few tender cards in it that would have be helpful for making a fire but things could have been worse he thought. Now knowing what he had available on him he felt a little better.

Now he needed to examine himself for injuries. Peeling out of his wet clothes and shoes he stood in only his boxers and examined himself, he had a few scrapes and cuts, and some tender spots that would definitely become bruises. Pulling his pants back on he left the shirt off as well as his socks and shoes, the last thing he wanted was to get trench foot from walking around in wet socks and shoes. Tying the laces together he hung his boots around his neck and hung the socks from them.

The one plus he had was that he grew up in Southern California so the heat and salty air was familiar to him, still he needed to find a source of fresh water soon if he wanted to survive. He could worry about food later. Looking in either direction down the beach he pondered which way he should go for a few minutes letting the sun dry his body and hair. Finally choosing a direction he started his walk down the beach.

After a nearly half an hour of walking had a thought that made him want to kick himself. The bracelet contained a whistle, he may not be able to hear it but if there was anyone else on the beach surely they would and come investigate. Unbuckling on he held the whistle between his lips and blew into it hoping that someone could hear him.
 
For almost a minute after Alejandro squeezed her hand, Asta looked from his face, to the drawing, then towards the relentlessly rolling surf as she thought about what he'd just done. Something was important to him, something about the luggage but it wasn't the one she'd helped him drag up away from the high tide mark. Comprehension dawned as she saw a raised black rubber design, a logo, on the side of the luggage. That was a symbol, a shape, like the one he'd drawn in the sand. He wanted a piece of luggage with...what? 4 lines coming together, like on one of the maps of her land the government people always tried to make them use and stick to? Reindeer didn't read maps, and they went where the food was good and the Sami followed. Nodding slowly, Asta traced over the symbol in the sand, her finger deepening the marks, and then stood up, leaving Alejandro to the care of the other two.

Asta hesitated at the edge of the ocean. It was just so much water, endless water, and it was moving. This was nothing like the inky blackness of a bog thaw lake, or the cold clear blue of a glacial tarn. This was all the water in the world and it was moving and pounding. Even though she could sense it was a gentle slope, Asta was terrified to go too deep into the surf. She didn't swim, didn't even think about it as being possible, and was afraid that once she got into the water she'd never get back out. But the luggages were out there and she'd have to go get them.

Sighing deeply, Asta rolled her shoulders back like her father did before lifting a really heavy load, then sat down to take off her reindeer skin boots. Thick woolen socks, now quite drenched with sweat, joined them and she added the belt and pouch a moment later. Standing up, she let the wind whip the long, light shirt around her legs and then pulled it off too, letting the wind carry it back further on the beach, fabric fluttering like a cloth wave. Very hesitantly, with her arms out to her side for balance, Asta waded into the surf.

It was powerful even when it felt gentle. Water coming in made her lean forward, shins smashing white foam in the water, but when it rushed out it tried to suck her feet deeper into the sand and move her at a walk into deeper water. It was subtle but powerful and Asta immediately respected and feared its strength. When she reached the first luggage, Asta grabbed it by the handle and spun in a half circle then tossed it clear of the water, halfway up between the tide marks. It hadn't been very heavy and though she wasn't as strong as the men of her family she could still shift a load. It was about using your hips and back, not your arms. A second piece joined the first, both with symbols on them but nothing like the marks Alejandro had drawn. Three, four, five, and now she was having to splash from water almost up to the fine hair between her legs into shallower to heave them clear. Number six...number six had a bright flag on it, as bright as the clothing of the Sami, and...and that was it! That was the same design Alejandro had drawn. Asta gave a squeal of delight and lifted it clear of the water with a hand on either side, waving it towards the trio on the beach, then trotted out of the waves and across the hot sand to put it in front of Alejandro.

Water dripped from her legs, from the curve of her bottom, and spray and sweat coated her bare body in tiny jewels that rolled together into larger ones and then coursed across her pale skin Asta pointed to the drawing in the sand, then the flag on the suitcase, and smiled in excitement at Alejandro. She pushed the suitcase closer to him and motioned that he should open it.
 
Giulia barely managed to understand something, "importante", that wordi was the same in her language, probably even in the pale girl's one as she dashed away from the group and approached the foaming waves of the endless ocean.

There, she saw the girl removing her heavy boots, "expectable" passed in her mind; but soon, her belt followed them... and again, her long shirt fell to the ground and, with a blow of the wind, danced away...

Giulia looked at the pale figure in front of her, squinting her eyes, she gasped by seeing her utter nudity... her young, pert breasts and the shine of the sun over her gold hairs... and thenthe, like a mirage, she jumped into the water. The curvy italian looked in that direction, startled "non pensavo che... esibizionista... o naturale... io non... bho..." thought herof, pondering if the young and silent girl hid a vein of, exibitionism... or she was just naturally doing... something natural? Afterall... nobody should feel uncomfortable for its body. Giulia gulped, and with a jump catched the flying skirt of the nordic beauty.

She looked at her, swimming and, grabbing baggage after. Baggage, without fear, without whines... one, two, four, six ofe them. So quick... they allare felt, like mesmerized by that spectacle of Natural might and naturality until...

«ha trovato qualcosa!» said her pointing at the girl, that smiled and wavedi at them. Soon, she returned carrying the luggage with her open arms, spotting her, young and pert breasts bouncing at each step until she bent and placed the baggage at his feets with a smile...

<<uhhhh....>> Giulia did not know what to say... she have been so great and strong... and her body... not a trace of shame ran over her. Still, she handed her her long shirt, placing it over her dripping body covering her <<...uh... q-questo è tuo...>>
 
"Estoy bien, simplemente cansado..." Alejandro tried to calm down the women around him, as he thought he was just exhausted, even if the lack of water and the sun had made a number on him. He looked wide eyed at the Asian one, who seemingly had managed to create somewhat machete looking, and he sipped into the sweet liquid eagerly. "Gracias, pero..." he turned to the younger one, seeing her trace his drawing with her finger. Maybe she managed to understand him, as she went towards the water.

Alejandro rested, at least his body did, taking a few sips more of coconut water, massaging his knees from time to time. His mind was restless, trying to focus his blurry vision on the girl on the distance, watching a snowflake struggle against the heat, among the waves, pulling pieces of luggage out of the salt water like nothing. The liquid and the rest in the shadow were helping, and Alejandro started to recover the full use of his senses when he saw the red, white and green of his suitcase, the flag of his people appear above the shoreline. "Amatxo maitea" he mumbled in Basque, something that he didn't usually do unless he was with other of the few speakers or just agitated.

Once the girl came back, Alejandro couldn't help but be doubly shocked. He wasn't just touched by the fact that the brave and mighty girl had understood him, managing to retrieve his things, but she was also completely naked, in the commotion and confusion he didn't see her remove the last of her clothes. He was excited by the show, although too tired and shocked to get a physical response, but he could briefly admire how strong and beautiful the pale girl looked. His own bashfulness made Alejandro focus on her face where her joyful smile made wrinkles frame her clear eyes, a sight that would make him blush even harder if he wasn't already beet red with the heat and sunstroke.

As the Italian girl covered her with the missing long shirt, Alejandro finally reacted, struggling to lean forward and hug the little girl, trapping the white garment between the two of them. Backing off, he looked at her eyes with his watery ones. "Gracias! Gracias!" he nodded, turning to the suitcase with trembling hands. He soon opened it, showing that there was nothing extraordinary at sight beyond a bunch of wrinkly boring clothes, not too far from what he was wearing at the moment. Rummaging through the contents, setting aside a toilet kit with the usual stuff, he found what he was looking for at the very end of it.

He reverently retrieved a rectangular cloth case, all black but a golden embroidery on it. He traced a finger over the thread, clearly a handmade add on and not a part the original design. "Alejandro" he voiced his own name, as that was the word embroidered on the case. Unzipping it, he carefully unfolded it, showing that the contents were a set of chef knives, a gift of his mother even if the women around didn't know that. A couple of tears fell from his face to one of the utensils, and he soon cleaned it, then his face. Even if they wouldn't understand what he could say, Alejandro was wordless, and took a knife out of the lot before closing it and leaving it to a side.

Taking the knife with both hands, he reverently offered it to the young girl. Even if all of them would have a use for those tools, and even if Alejandro was quite emotional they were just knives in the end, he wanted the girl to have that one with her, as a gesture of thanks. Silently nodding, keeping his tears at bay, he noticed that he didn't know the names of the women around, and that should be easy enough to convey. "Alejandro" he repeated once more, touching his chest.

The heartfelt moment started to fade, when a whistling sound broke over the noise of the waves and the wind.
 
He was rich. That was the only explanation for the wealth of steel the man displayed, unless he was a smith but Asta doubted it, the inference she drew being that he would be much more heavily muscled in the arms and chest, and probably have burn marks on them from practicing his craft. Much like their often times neighbors the Finns, the Sami held a special place for if not reverence of knives then at least they placed great value in them for their survival and every day chores. To have so many knives, ones that sparkled like icicles hanging from birch boughs in the aurora bright nights, meant that the man was very rich. He even had a special roll for them, a flexible temple to their sharp edges and angular shapes, that he showed reverence to, an impression that was only heightened by the emotion she saw spill from his eyes and run down his cheeks.

It wasn't the cooling wind on her saltwater dampened skin or the flutter of her shirt across her bare flesh that stroked goosebumps into her flesh but the way he offered her one of his knives, offered it with both hands in a gesture of...what? Thanks? Humility? Gratitude? She didn't know for sure, but Asta did realize the moment was special to the both of them. Just as he had used two hands to offer it, Asta received it with both of her own and left their hands touching, fingers almost intertwined, until both of them felt it was the right moment to pull away.

As the moment broke, Asta laughed with the delight of it and reached out with her off hand to tap Alejandro on the chest. "Alejandro," she said, accent mangling the pronunciation of his name. "Alejandro," she repeated, tapping him again and then taking his own hand in hers and putting it on her chest, nestled just above her young breasts. "Asta. Asta," each time accompanying it with a tap against her chest. "Alejandro. Asta." Nodding and smiling she pointed to the tall Viet woman. "Kim-Ly."

"Asta," a tap on her own chest, "Kim-Ly," she waved towards the coconut whisperer, "Alejandro," her hand touched his chest and then she turned towards Giulia. The woman was very pretty, Asta thought, and had curves she envied, wishing that she wasn't so up and down straight compared to Giulia's womanly curves. "Asta, Kim-Ly, Alejandro," each name was said slowly as she pointed to each of them in turn, ending with her finger pointing at Giulia and an expectant look in her pale blue eyes. Asta's eyebrows rose as she hunched her shoulders and neck up to meet, asking a worldess question she hoped the woman understood.

In the distant, lost to her ears by the breeze and surf, the whistle blew again.
 
To her surprise, he an that seemed wounded and still in pain, moved his trembling arms toward the pale girl, in a message that humans must have in their primal area of the brain: the untraducible message that declares the need of comfort from another human. As the pale girl reacted ot that invitation without further explaination and hugged him, Giulia heard his voice broken by emotions. The way the spanish guy reacted in front of that red trolley was something she would have never expected; in front of her salt-encrusted glasses she saw a man passing from pain to...the understandable look of mesmerized awkwardice in front of the nude girl, to clear joy and gratitude... now, she saw himthe open the baggage withat trembling hands, like if hethe was handling a reliquiary, until, with tears in his eyes, extracted a roll of cloth and indicated the name on it.

"Alejandro" thought the italian girl as the spanish fumbled with that cloth. she already saw what those rolls are, but never, neither the most famous cookers had such embroidery works on its own ; thinking that he must be famousa or indeed rich to allow such a posh decoration...

Once open, a number of knives shone like cold ice sabers, sending light shines over their bodies. Giulia followed his hands picking up one of them, and, full of emotions, offered it to the pale girl, that, sharing his emotions, took it in her hands. Still... the nerdyness of Giulia noticed their hands locking together for a long while, she tried to imagine this as a way to communicate emotions and, gratitude without words.

After they broke, she saw the nordic beauty smile and tapped him, saying his name; but seeing her pale hand moving his, barely over her chest... " ...che innocenza..." thought her with a sighsmile, seeing her ingenuous innocence for her act, without malice or lure, thinking that she was indeed very young.

Still, she got names, and the girl was now waiting in an hopeful shrug her own.The curvaceous girlo mumbled then placed an open hand between her large breasts <<Giulia>> said her with a nod of her head, then pointed at the pale one <<Asta...>> and the guy <<Aaa...lehanddro>> not knowing how toto really pronounce it, and finally, the asian << K-kimli>>. Once finished, she smiled at them, a simple name would have meant better relations and she feltcan somewhat safe with them.

Turning her headwith, a sound carried by Winds, Giulia rose a finger and frowned, as to concentrate and hearing better., also noticing it to the others.
 
Aerin walked down the beach for some time staring out at the ocean. Most of the beach was sugar white sand, but there were a few rocky areas that had tide pools brimming with life. He knew the crabs in them would be an excellent food source, and he even spotted a lobster in one. He also noted the coconut palms that littered the area. Taking a brief break he managed to crack into one using a rock and drank it's contents. As delicious as it was he knew that he needed to find a real water source within the next few days if he wanted to survive. Before getting back to his search he stripped out of his pants and hung them over his shoulders leaving him in only his boxers. The heat was starting to get to be to much to wear pants and without his suitcase he didn't have any shorts to change into for comfort.

After his brief break Aerin resumed his trek down the beach, still blowing the whistle ever few minutes hoping that someone would hear him. It wasn't long before he spotted something in the distance. Shielding his eyes from the sun he squinted and finally made out the shape. It was the tail of the air plane. Excitement welled up in his chest at the sight. Maybe, just maybe he could find someone alive there. It made sense to him to stay near a piece of the wreckage, it was easy to spot from the ground and sky and could also contain many usefully supplies.

Breaking into a jog Aerin blew long and hard on the whistle every minute or so. After about what felt like a mile Aerin saw something else. It looked to be the shapes of people moving about. A gleeful smile split his face and he quickened his pace from a light jog to a steady run. Adrenaline pumped through his muscles as he ran towards what he hoped were other survivors. As he drew nearer he could make out that they shapes were indeed people. Over and over he blew whistle hoping to catch their attention as he ran towards them waving an arm high above his head.
 
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