Aleister wiped the sweat from his brow. He brought his hand up to his head to block the light of the setting sun. His hand smelled like death. A mosquito buzzed by, landing right behind Aleister's ear. He thought about swatting it, but didn't. He waited a minute, and the itch of the mosquito's feast subsided. He watched as it flew off, presumably to its family, or whatever sort of thing mosquitoes had to go home to. Home. What is home? Do I even remember? Did I even have one? Flies landed on the windowsill next to his hand. They crawled all over his arm, their little feet rubbing against his skin. Oh yeah. It was a hut. A little mud hut. Aleister sighed and flung the personal space invaders off of his arm. Outside, past the treeline, he could see things scurrying. Abnormal things. What were they? A large bipedal thing rumbled through the underbrush. It stopped, standing stock still. The shadow turned and looked at Aleister. Their eyes met, and became locked. For almost an eternity, both parties stared at one another. Then, without warning, the thing flashed a cheeky grin and leapt back into the growing darkness. He sighed. When would he get to live this place?
edited 20th Feb '11 9:27:19 PM by KSPAM
She finds the lush, wavering green of the forest alluring. But not as alluring as her Jeremy Derringer no. 3 adventure paperback novel — her cute nose buried in the beginning pages. Yomiko Readman, in her safari outfit (complete with safety hat), pays half her attention to her surroundings, and often finds herself tripping upon a loose tree root or stumble across an anthill as she imagines Jeremy exploring vine-grown Mayan remains. Eek! It's Yomiko's month off from both Agency and substitute teacher work. Coinciding with her purchase of a Jeremy Derringer serial, she has decided to enjoy herself, immersed in the Yucatan wild. The July month is especially humid here; as the moist air makes her sweat buckets through layers of 70 SPF sunscreen. Occasionally a glimmer of sun peeks through the tree leaves. It is very beautiful. Yomiko has declined the services of a well-ventured guide, instead deciding to venture the jungle alone — after being dropped off from the bus station. But she's not likely to get lost, not with the guiding help of her navigational jeejah. She's turning the page with one hand (Jeremy entering a long lost temple.. ooh.), as she holds a slicing machete with another. For the pesky, overgrown obstacles. If you perk your ears, the Yucatan jungle is brimming with nature's life; dragonflies' buzzing, the cicadas chirping their songs, and the chirpings of birds. Out the corner of her eye, Yomiko notices somethings sticking out of the bushes. Looking up from the novel, she spots what looks like a lone, wooden hut in a cleared-out space. This especially piques her — ooh, she might finally meet a native face-to-face! Besides, her legs are starting to ache from the walk. Strutting over to the hut, she wipes some of her sweat off with a hand, and she heads over onto the hut's porch, where she chances to rap her knuckles upon the gnarly door. "Hello?" Yomiko half-whispers. "Is anyone home?"
edited 20th Feb '11 10:08:56 PM by QQQQQ
edited 20th Feb '11 10:12:32 PM by KillerClowns
edited 20th Feb '11 10:19:16 PM by QQQQQ
edited 20th Feb '11 10:41:04 PM by KillerClowns
edited 20th Feb '11 10:55:47 PM by QQQQQ
Adel hacked at a vine that tried to impede his progress through the jungle. The German mercenary-explorer was kitted out in some of the finest gear money could buy. His machete was a work of art, as was his handgun. Even in the sweaty heat of the jungle he kept his bullet proof vest on - though it breathed so well it was like wearing a tank top. Blue eyes examined his GPS, he should be getting close. The glossy screen reflected his strong features, and he couldn't help but flash a disarming grin. He wasn't a vain man, he just knew he looked very good. Too bad no lady friends were here to enjoy the perfect image of sweat beading over his honed body. There wasn't much to do as he marched through the wild jungle, other than fantasise about women or brood on his dreams. Most were understandable - echoes of action he'd seen, or idle dreams of another life. But one reoccurring dream - not frequent, a few times a year at most - had an impossibly beautiful lady. She sang, and he followed, and he found himself in a place like a carnival house of mirrors. All the reflections wrong, different. A doctor, Chinese, female, handicapped, a father. But he'd always end up facing on of him dressed as if a knight at a ren-faire. Then he'd wake up. With a triumphal yell, Adel hacked his way into a clearing. In the middle of which there was a hut - his destination - and a few people. And maybe, his target. He stalked over to the hut and knocked on the open door frame, "Room for one more?"
edited 21st Feb '11 8:55:56 AM by CrystalGlacia
"Lovely." Mouth twisted, Ianto sighed and lowered his left hand carefully to his side, attempting to avoid brushing the edge of his khakis. He failed, and a faint stinging pain rushed up his arm, which was at this point a light shade of pink. He closed his eyes, then inhaled softly, releasing his breath with a quick blink before resuming his pace. There were many disadvantages to a total lack of pigment. This was but one of them. More pressing, he thought, was the matter of his eyesight. He had broken his glasses several hours prior, leaving his field of vision a vast and colourful blur, sometimes gaining clarity with a decrease in distance but always just short of the palpable, as if he were in some kind of dream. And considering the bizarre nature of his situation, who was to say that he was conscious? After all, when had he last even heard a human voice... "You plan on eating the rest of that snake or something?" His head whipped around with sufficient speed to allow his oversized and battered Panama hat to slip over his eyes, leaving him temporarily in total darkness. Whilst struggling to readjust his now overwheming source of shade, he stumbled headlong through the greenery and right into the speaker of that baffling phrase. Prying hat from head, Ianto found himself facing a pair of angry eyes nearly as red as his. His mouth twisted again, and he choked on a word: "Lovely."
edited 21st Feb '11 12:18:24 PM by CrystalGlacia
edited 21st Feb '11 4:45:52 PM by KSPAM
edited 21st Feb '11 4:49:07 PM by QQQQQ
edited 21st Feb '11 5:14:59 PM by KSPAM
edited 21st Feb '11 5:25:02 PM by QQQQQ