You bought your return ticket a few hours ago, the plane has been delayed because of the storm, and you’re getting pretty bored. The other passengers are sat on the seats around you, some couples with whining kids and groups of young holiday makers whose energy was beginning to dissipate.


You?

Well you’re here on a {Business trip, Soul searching, Adventure – you name it} and you are ready to sleep. The bus up to the airport was unpleasant and even these leathery seats are uncomfortable. The rain pounds against the windows, droplets not getting a chance to meander down the glass pane before being consumed by another raindrop, you can barely see the control tower.
After another half hour in this endless state of boredom, a crackling and monotone female voice came from the dusty speakers above the locked boarding doors.

“Sorry for the delay, boarding will commence in a few minutes.”

Just like that a line was forming to the doors, pushing and shoving was evident but honestly – you were too tired to even try. You had assigned tickets anyways, no need to rush to a seat you already own. Shuffling into line, you check you haven’t forgotten anything and pat down where your tickets are, just in case they had disappeared. The line begins to slowly trundle forward and you follow it all the way up to the door, where you hand over your ticket to be checked.

No problems. You’re through and on your way, just a few more metres to the door, if you can withstand the tormenting yelps and joyful screams of the children that are echoing through the metallic walkway between the building and the plane. Walking through the door the Captain welcomes you with a smile and a nod, your altogether pissed off because frankly – he wouldn’t be smiling if he had just waited 3 hours for a plane.

Taking your seat after putting your luggage away, you attempt to get comfy, to no avail. Fortunately the kids are in the front of the plane, and you can no longer hear their excited squeals. You’ve always thought the back of the plane was better, usually quieter. After a few minutes, once everyone has sat down et cetera, the Captain welcomes you to the plane and informs you that seatbelts will be necessary until he breaches the clouds and rises above the storm. With that the engines rumbled into life and you rolled along the line, taking off and sailing through the falling rain, the plane breaks through the clouds after a shaky few minutes, and the seatbelt sign blinks off. You {closed your eyes and fell asleep, read your book, watched a movie – you name it}



Suddenly you jolt forward, looking around you notice everyone is in the same situation – one edge. The Captain comes across the tannoy, his words cresting over the muffled conversations between the passengers.

“Sorry about that ladies and gentlemen, just a little blip. If you could put your seat belts back on as a precaution I’d appreciate it.” He said - a hint of something that wasn’t confidence in his voice. The light for the seatbelts flickers on and everyone complies with its message. Clicking your own seatbelt in, you look across to your neighbour with a faint smile of anxiety.

Once again the tannoy crackles into life.

“We will be reaching the half way point of our journey in around 10 minutes, where we will be flying over the Islands of Elobey Grande and Elobey Nino. After that it’s another 3 hours of cruising and then___”

You jolt to the right as gravity seems to shift forward, your cup falling from its holder and onto the floor, rolling through the chairs in front. A few raised voices and white faces begin to streak across the people around you, and the snack cart rolls down the aisle. You feel a dim light against your face and look out the window to see a fiery glow erupting from the wing.

You’re going down.



Screams erupt all over the plane and you can hear the children once more, their joyful yelps morphed into terrified cries for help. The plane tips further, like a rollercoaster reaching its highest point, your stomach climbs up to your throat and you begin to feel sick. A male voice comes from behind you and you turn your head, they are screaming for help. Just as you see him, hanging from his chair by both arms the plane lurches forward once more, the scream falls past you as he does, ending in a crunch at the bottom of section, followed by more screams.

So much screaming.

You can feel your heart striking your ribcage faster and faster, blood rushing around your body at incredible speed; you’re shaking as you grip as tight as you can to the chair – nails digging in through the pain. The screams, yells, roar of the wind slicing across the burning engine all mix into a static that seems to go on for longer than the flight had so far.

The tannoy comes on, and an incomprehensible sentence is spoken.

Turning on again, the sentence is repeated once more, screamed down the microphone, but still nothing compared to the children’s cries.

Brace yourself.

Welcome to Far Cry Elobey Isles.

To quote Hadvar 'Who are you?'

Character sheet skeleton:

Name:
Gender:
Nationality:
Age:
Profession/job:
Skills (practical):
Skills (specific):
Brief Bio:

This thread is for anyone who is interested in a survival Far Cry expeirence and is here for your enjoyment :) Thank you for reading.

@HaleyTheRandom Okay, so I like your thinking-ahead skills. But get rid of foraging and building things. the rest can be explained through life skills and perhaps stuff like scouts and explorers.

@Pripovednik Why thank ya. Edited it out.

@HaleyTheRandom Accepted dear :)

@Pripovednik Sweet. I'll move her to the Characters.

@HaleyTheRandomNice, 1st character. I will PM you your enviroment when you awake. Please make a note.

@Pripovednik A Note has been made.

@HaleyTheRandom Sent you the enviroment.

@Pripovednik Alrighty. Allow me a few to work my magic.

I will build up a CS for this.

Name: Rachel Jackson
Gender: Female
Nationality: Scottish
Age: 25

Profession/job: Electrical technician, she works for a large electronics manufacturer attempting to create new innovative gadgets to make everyone's days go longer.

Skills (practical): Basic work level First aid, can salvage electronics and combine them to make useful gadgets, such as radio's and has a minor ability to cook, however she does mostly do take always so she would never nominate herself as a chef.

Skills (specific): She loves to read and has a great memory, when it comes to recalling images or places.

Brief Bio:
"You got the job. Should you not be happy? A male voice spoke slightly muffled by the wall that stood between them.
"I am happy!" A female voice soon followed, almost abrasive against the soft tone that it followed.
"Okay, okay your happy! haha." he laughed mockingly.
"Oh shush," She stood from a sat position on a large red sofa and marched through into the bed room where Joey stood, he was adorable stood there rearranging pillows a stuffed Pikachu she had lying on the bed. "I'm sorry, I'm just... That is to say I don't particularly like the idea of moving so far away from my family and my friends." She tried to give off a smile but found it to be more of an awkward grimace.
"Don't worry about it." He spoke softly to her and continued to finish dressing the bed.

It was a surreal feeling seeing the apartment stripped of it's belongings, it now had only a sofa, bed and many boxes to occupy it. "Packing the TV was a foolish move." She whispered to herself as she sat down on the sofa and opened a book that was recommended to her by one of her friends. 'Bear Grylls Mud Sweat and Tears.' She didn't much care for his stuff but her friend spoke so highly of it. "Page one" She sighed as she flipped the crisp new book open and began to read. Fifteen minutes later She closed the book. "I'm wasting my time, who needs to know all this junk." She mused and placed the book into the last open box.

After saying goodbye to the home and land she knew, she got on the plane, her boyfriend and her sat next to each other... A new life awaits.

(I know you hate soppy Prip but oh well :) )

Name: James 'Jamie' Williams
Gender: Male
Nationality: American
Age: 21
Profession/job: University student, ROTC cadet, and part-time Starbucks employee. He had joined the Reserves for the Marines a few months ago, as the 'pre' conditioning for his future career, and had plans of entering the active Marine duty itself once he finished his third year in University. But, you know, this shit happens.
Skills (practical): Developing firearms and CQC training, basic knowledge of survival and common sense.
Skills (specific): He's athletic, with impressive stamina and grit. Can sprint for a very long time, and isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Rather daring, which can be both a blessing and a curse.
Brief Bio: James grew up in Chicago with a hard-working mother, and Marine father. His life, growing up, wasn't too specific. He played sports, had friends, and ironed out his will of becoming a Marine, himself, to help support his family, and make his father proud. He signed up for the Marine reserves at around the age of 18, while, at the same time, going to University. Every weekend and so, he would go to Base for PT and training, whilst he juggled this with a rather busy schedule at the University. His girlfriend at the time, Eliza, saw that he was getting stressed, and orchestrated him a vacation, which would begin in a couple of weeks. He agreed, and although they later broke up, due to a misunderstanding, James decided to go to the vacation, anyways. It was his vacation in the Reserves, after all, and Chicago University was conveniently out for some stupid week-long parade.

Name:Nicholas L Shafuer
Gender:Male
Nationality:American
Age:32
Profession/job:Reformed Criminal, currently a general contractor.
Skills (practical):Physically fit, good with his hands, knows how to build things but mostly concrete buildings.
Skills (specific):Great at strategy and planning due to his past, avid reader.
Brief Bio:Nicholas was born into a average life, he had what he needed as a child and nothing more, as he went through school however he did fall in with the wrong crowd. And by his early teens he was robbing convince stores and selling drugs. Into his adult years he was robbing banks and he even made a career out of it. By age 25 he and his associates were number 8 on the FBI most wanted list, but something happen he didn't expect his boozing, and whoring led to a child. And for his child he went straight, leaving behind his life of crime with a nice chunk of change that went to bettering his child's life and his own.

Eventually he started working as a general contractor working with a architect on building a variety of buildings, and making a clean living for his child, eventually he decided to take a vacation and his child stayed with her mother as he left for the airport hoping to return home to them in a couple of days.

@kiya No problem :)

Thanks all for posting :)@Orcus@Dirty Dan@kiya@HaleyTheRandom

All accepted. Move onto the CS and I will PM you your environment when you awake, then you can post your first IC.

Heya, don't mind if I join in?

My CS is below. :)



Name:
Laura Miller

Gender:
Female

Nationality:
Australian

Age:
20

Profession/Job:
Mechanic

Skills (practical):
Camping and hiking skills, Hunting skills, Fixing stuff

Skills (specific):
She is athletic and fit, with a decent amount of stamina and strength. Isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Brave and daring.

Brief Bio:
Laura was born in Sydney, Australia to mid-wealth family. They enjoyed the luxuries a family such as one could afford. They neither had too much nor too little. The Miller's family life was simple enough yet satisfactory. Her father and brother, who were both camping and hiking aficionado, eventually got her interested as well. The three of them would often go onto camping and hiking trips together. When her brother graduated from University, he got a lucrative job offer, and left Australia for the United States. Laura was rather close to her brother, and was saddened by his departure. Trying to cheer his only daughter up once more, he booked a vacation for to relax her mind on.