Passenger 20F

[Howler]

PASSENGER 20F

In Character Topic

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Day 1: "Women & Children First"
Player: Nicolai
Character: Agatha Saville

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A groggy Agatha tilted her abdomen out of the seat to view the plane's contents. There were more than a hundred eyes behind her. Whether they were fixed in disbelief, darting in fear or glazed over with tears, she figured out at least one thing in this first waking moment. Something the fuck was up.

Cabin crew members lay crumpled in the aisle to her right next to an abandoned cart, pools of crimson emanating from their heads. Turning to the man beside her, more shocking images presented themselves in the form of an afflicted passenger. His every facial orifice leaked the same red smeared across the face of the woman desperately trying to resuscitate him.

This was too much to be experienced in silence, but as she soon found, by dragging the plugs out of her ears, hearing all of this was far worse. She was met with a wailing orchestra of grief and shock the likes of which no pandemic to her knowledge had ever conjured.

"Help us! Someone please!" Screamed one.

"How is this happening?" Screamed another.

Agatha used the shell-shocking nature of her surroundings with the humming of the flight systems to make a cone of silence in which she could think. Folding the table into the chair in front of her and unbuckling the belt, she thrust herself upwards to look around and assess this situation.

Above a barrage of names, familial cries and shrieking, it clicked. Whatever or whoever had done this, the result was clear. Every male aboard this flight would die.

Despite the circumstances, it was only when she saw a stewardess frantically stumble toward the cockpit door that panic set in.

'Fuck the customers!' She thought. 'There might be dead men steering us into oblivion!'

That door needed to be opened, there were no other alternatives if anyone else was to survive this ordeal. Communication to the outside world and a myriad of critical information lay behind that sturdy, bulletproof block of plastic. With any luck the belts would still be on and the pilots would have met their maker in an upright position. A collapsed body on a desk filled with unfamiliar instruments did not sound optimal.

Ramming the compartment with the cart would do nothing but damage the hinges, if anything making the task harder.

The chances would be moderate that an air-marshal had boarded in Tokyo, but it might be the shred of hope or life-saving coincidence these people needed to work together.

"Alright! LISTEN!" Roared Agatha, attempting to rouse the attention of the mourning company she now shared.

"We don't know if the Pilots are dead or not and if you want to help, follow my instructions."

'Deep breaths.'

"Search everyone you see for a concealed firearm. An air-marshal will have what we need to get through this!"

[AndrewH1628]

Day 1
Player: Andrew
Character: Ling Moon

Ling Moon woke up to the sound of screaming. A real bullshit way to wake up. She removed her cheap inflight eyemask and threw it into the aisle. A woman ran over it, almost tripping. Another woman shouted for everyone to remain calm. Brain shuts down and clichés take over. When we can’t think we just repeat. A third woman knocked her down. They were all women. Everyone. The men were sitting perfectly still. It was like some macabre shoe store sale.

Ling turned to Tan in the seat next to her.
“What the hell’s going on?”
Tan didn’t reply. His eyes were closed. Blood ran from his nose and pooled on his upper lip, giving him a red milk moustache.
Ling checked his pulse. Nothing. She pushed her dark plait clear of her ear and pressed it up against his chest. It sounded empty. She started to breathe in the panic that was swirling around her. Sweat spotted her brow. Panic became desperation. She grabbed Tan’s by the shirt and slammed him back to the seat. The button’s popped. Tan had a tattoo that read ‘Do Not Resuscitate’. He’d gotten it the same time Ling had the barcode inked onto the small of her back. Tan loved adventure. The tattoo was only meant to be a joke. It mocked Ling, laughed at her as tears grew in the corners of her eyes.

She took a deep calming breath. When we can’t think we just repeat. The men weren’t sitting still. They were dead. They were all dead. She needed to get to the cargo hold. She needed to save Faith.

[Tanzen]

Day 1
Player: Tanzen
Character: Laura Field

Laura was looking right at the steward when it happened. His eyes rolled into his skull and his nose started to bleed in long strands. He dropped to the floor of the plane, his heavy body thumping as it hit the ground. She was the first one to scream. All around her, female voices started to join in, like an echo.

She looked to her left to see if Henry, the man next to her, had seen it too, had seen the steward just fall to the ground like that, but his eyes were closed and his nose was bleeding too. She reached out to wake him up, shaking his arm vigorously, but his skin was clammy.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was touching a dead body. She snatched her hand back with a shriek, and clutched it to her chest as if she'd been burned. Her vision started to swim, and her head felt dizzy. She tried to remember what Dr. Booth had told her about taking deep breaths, but her throat was closing up and she found that the deeper she tried to breathe, the less air was coming in.

The woman on her other side was sobbing loudly, and she could hear stewardesses calling out that everyone should calm down. Her breath was coming in shallower and black spots were appearing in front of her eyes. Everything went black.

Laura woke to a slap in the face, and the stinging sensation it left. She opened her eyes to a woman in a stewardess uniform standing over her, her eyebrows knotted into a frown.

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