NarniaWeb Community Forums

"Well, actually," piped up Molly, from where she knelt by the fire, "unless you unchecked the option, you were automatically signed up for the advanced shipwreck module. Travelling with Titan IC lines is always your best plan for excitement and adventure, and Captain Y. Knott is your Ultra Certified Emergency Creation Co-ordinator!" She sounded as if she was reciting from a promotional pamphlet. Then her tone changed, and she blushed shyly.

"You see, I'm trying for a Level 3 survival guide certificate myself. I can't say how it all is done--only the top officers know the details--but I can assure you that it is all handled in the most expert fashion." Flashing a nervous smile, she looked around with an anxious air. "You are all enjoying yourself, aren't you? I really, really want to pass my test. I would have last time, but things went a bit wrong, and...."

Faye stared at Molly in utter disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It felt like she was the victim of the worst prank ever conceived. She glanced at Ainsley's broken leg and the faces of the other castaways, and suspected that the others felt about the same way she did.

"If that's the case," Faye responded, her anger simmering just below the breaking point, "then that means that someone will be coming to get us eventually, right?" She almost didn't dare to ask, but she also wanted to know, "What, exactly, happened 'last time'?"

Xandria's gaze turned stone cold as her eyes settled on Molly.

"You tell us everything, now," she said icily. "You tell us exactly what got us here, and what you have planned next."

"Hold on, back up a moment, what exactly was said prior to this?" Maeve asked, holding her hands out a little bit. Every seemed to be quite on edge.

"The Titan Cruise Line crashed the ship on purpose," Xandria nearly spat, "and this one is using it to earn her personal brownie badge."

Maeve turned to look at Molly, too.

"Is this true?"

Mel was less upset by the news that this was a Cruise Activity than the others seemed to be--it made sense in its own strange way. It was distressing to see Twigs burst out crying, so she hurried over, wagging her tail in a comforting fashion, leaned as gently as she could on Twigs' shoulder, and began to lick away the tears.

Faye felt for Twig's when she started crying, and thought about reaching out herself, but she was nonetheless grateful when Mel beat her to it. She glanced briefly at Ainsley and the Baxters, those most directly affected by the crash, but she was just going to have to hope that they weren't as angry as Xandria. She really didn't want the whole group dynamic collapsing on only their first night.

Turning directly to Xandria, she pointed out, "It's too early to make any accusations, hon. We don't have any information. Let's just... calm down, at least long enough to get some answers, huh?"

“Javier, this trip has been going splendidly! So little time at sea and you’ve already exceeded my expectations. I must commend the entire crew.” Junior stepped outside of his cabin on the Titan IC and walked down the hall towards the classiest dining room. He liked to hear the pianist play the grand there as he ate.

“Thank you, Mr. Gladstone. And the activities we have planned are sure to be... exciting.”

“That’s great.” Junior looked around and then spoke in a hushed voice. “Now you’re sure that everything will be ready for tomorrow? Everything has got to be perfect.”

“Against my better judgement, sir, yes. I’ve made arrangements for exactly the time you’ve requested. Although, if you ask me, you might want to get a firm acceptance from the parties involved first. If they’re unwilling to go through this little experience, it would reflect very poorly upon you.”

“Oh come, come, Javier. Who wouldn’t love a little surprise like this? Just leave everything to me. When the time is right, I’ll let the cat out of the bag. In the meantime, continue the preparations. And when the ‘event’ occurs, just make sure my every need is met.”

“Who would I be if I neglected the son of the vessel’s financiers? I’ll make sure you’re very well cared for through the whole thing. And I’ll also make sure to catch you when you fall.”

Gladstone laughed and said in a more confident tone, “I’ll float through this whole thing. You just wait and see.”

"Surely some of you must have read the information packet?" Molly looked around at the ring of hostile faces and gulped. "Oh, dear! I'm guessing you didn't? Well, it's like this. They don't actually wreck the ship--that would be far too expensive. There's some sort of lever or other mechanical gizmo that drops the adventure group into the bay. They throw out some jetsam to make it look realistic. Then the rest of the passengers just continue on with the cruise."

Now that she thought about it, the whole thing had seemed rougher and less polished than previous occasions. No one had ever been hurt before. Was it possible that there had been some mistake--or even sabotage? Molly didn't want to dwell on that possibility, so she hurried on.

"After we're dropped in the bay, it's a leisurely swim to the shore, where we recline upon the sandy beach and eat tropical fruit until the Rescue Crew arrives. It isn't scheduled to be the Pirate Rescue Crew, so that will be the end of the adventure."

A shudder ran up her spine as she recollected the last trip. Razor-thin tempers; everyone on edge; castaway guests at each others' throats constantly; six weeks hiding out in the jungle, dodging irate passengers as best she could. Never again! she had vowed.

"Last time there were some--some technical issues, and it took longer to be rescued. But, of course, everything will be all right this time. They promised to make sure it never happened again."

She did her best to smile, even though nobody seemed cheered by her explanation.

Pittersticks really didn't care how they had ended up on the island. He was confident he would survive. He had only come on the cruise to be mischievous and watch the drama unfold anyway. Although this drama was not of his own creating, he was enjoying it and was eager to escalate the things for the utmost entertainment for himself. In his deeper-than-normal-for-a-squirrel voice he said, "Something must have gone dreadful wrong this time. While I can well believe that these imbeciles," he gestured at the group, "did not read the information packet, this certainly does not apply to me. I didn't read the packet because I didn't get the packet. I was not a guest on the boat. I was in a cabin that was supposed to be empty." He glared at Molly with his red eyes, not because he was actually mad at her but because the effect was perfect for creating drama.

After a while, Ithamar Waters came out of the panic-induced daze that had been caused by the loss of his precious medicine bag. He peered at all the people gathered there. To his horror, he heard a squirrel--the squirrel--shouting and stamping his feet. No one seemed to heed its outrageous words. No one said, "Look, a talking squirrel!" Perhaps only he could see and hear the wretched creature--it must be a figment of his imagination. Well, maybe it was better for one to acknowledge the problem if one was hallucinating.

As if on a radio being tuned, he heard the conversatioin grow clearer.

"What's this? What's this?--a shipwreck? Plots of mayhem and destruction!" Now he felt himself the efficient, talented detective once more. "Why, it must be the fault of that weaselly Gladstone--he owns shares in this company. We'll ask him to give an explanation!" He looked about expectantly. "By the bye, where is he anyway?"

Molly eyed the newly energized Waters blankly. Then she turned back to the others.

"I'm very sorry that some of you have been hurt. That has never happened before, at least not on my run. But I can see that we should call this off right away. I'll go make contact with headquarters; they should be here to pick us up in a couple of hours."

Suiting her action to her words, the bright-haired stewardess ran up the beach, and disappeared into the edge of the jungle. When she came rushing back a short time later, she wore a frightened air.

"It's not there! Has someone taken it away for a joke? Because it's not a very funny one. Either the transmitter has been--misplaced--or else," she took a deep breath, "we're on the wrong island!"

Well, things had just gone from bad to worse. Faye couldn't help but sound frustrated as she asked, "So, you didn't do a practice run for this 'adventure'? Get familiar with the island?"

Mr. Waters's comment did make her think, though. Surely Mr. Gladstone would have his own means of ending the adventure early - they wouldn't put him in any real danger. If nothing else, if there had been any miscommunications, the company would surely put their full effort into finding him. With these thoughts in mind, she answered Waters's question: "Mr. Gladstone went to get water. It's about a ten minute walk from here, so he should probably be back soon." At least, she hoped he would.

Faye kept her eye on Xandria. The original news was bad enough - this was likely to cause a riot. Whatever Pittersticks might say, she'd much rather be living Swiss Family Robinson than Lord of the Flies.

Xandria nearly had smoke boiling out of her ears. How dare. How DARE they. she had spent so much time picking one thing, ONE thing to try re-integrating with people, done everything she could to ensure she would have adequate privacy but enough to force her to be out and social, to be safe, with experienced crew, and this is what she ended up with. She was about ready to give--both verbally and perhaps a little violently--a piece of her mind when Maeve spoke up.

"Enough!" she said, extending a hand toward the more upset members of the party while walking over toward Molly. She placed herself before Molly, glancing around and noticing that she was almost exactly in the center of the group, and just above her, Pittersticks. Her eyes narrowed at the furry tailed rodent, before settling on Molly.

"You all can speculate later. Right now, there is less than an hour of daylight remaining. Once that sun dips below the horizon, the light will be gone, and there will be no heat source, which means we need to get some serious work done, and now. Enough wood needs to be gathered to build a stack as high as Grace, higher, if possible. A shelter must be built, and, as someone mentioned earlier, the tide is only just now beginning to come in, so the shelter should be built behind the tree line, and the wood stacked behind it. Some need to forage for tarping and other usables that have washed ashore, others need to collect driftwood, and still others need to find fallen palm fronds, and collect them for shelter building," Maeve announced curtly. "And Molly--there should be a box of emergency supplies, including a machete and medical equipment. Where is it?"

“Looking for this?” Junior appeared just behind the rest of the group, holding a large handled emergency kit in one hand, and a large, handled pot of water in the other. He dropped the heavy box. “I found it close by. Luckily for us, I also found this pot.” His biceps bulged as he lifted it and walked into the center of the group. “‘Miss Twig’s, I believe you wanted this.” He looked around at everyone, who were mysteriously silent. “Oh, I see you made a grill over the fire. Looks like something my daddy and I would’ve used on one of our several trips to the Adirondacks. I’ll just hang this over here so that it can get warm.” After doing so, he turned and surveyed the group. They seemed to be agitated by his presence. For almost the first time in his life, he wasn’t enjoying being the center of attention. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I just came in as you were talking about building a shelter and gathering tarp. I think I saw some back there next to a deck umbrella... I could go get it if you want...”