"This isn't over yet!" I roar, and hurl my body to the back of the boat to counterbalance it and level it out. I am a big guy; time to use that. Every time a wave is about to crash into us, I shift all my weight rapidly in the direction of the wave and try to force the boat back down as level as I can.

If I do manage to make the boat not capsize from this wave, I will shift Sam's (probably now sopping) drone box to the back for additional weight.

I know it probably won't work, there is just too much water; I do it anyway.

You throw your weight to stop the boat from capsizing once, twice, but on the third time, the added pressure isn't enough, and the wave pushes the dinghy like it's made of paper, crushing it under pressure and turning it to sink in the ocean.

Sam flies off of the boat into the water, as you do too, but you lose sight of him immediately as you fight to regain the surface from underwater. You claw your way up, kicking wildly until your lungs burn and you're saved by a single breath you suck in before you're thrown under again.

I realize what has happened now and force my brain to draw a line between where I was and use the motion I felt as I flew away from there to figure out where I am relatively and thus where the island is. Then I swim straight for the rocks at the base of the cliffs and try to find one I can grab onto without falling off and without bashing my skull into a rock getting there. I swim underwater to do this for as long as my lungs will let me, which won't be long.

You get your bearings quickly once you start thinking, the water actually pushing you towards the island now, but the water is too powerful and it's hard enough to come up for breath let alone swim any distance in between doing so. Soon, your vision blurs from your efforts and everything around you goes black.

-----

But you awaken. The air is warm and full, like after a rainfall. And you feel like you're floating on a cloud, the surface you're on is so soft. You open your eyes to a relatively large room, with full-sized dressers, an armoire, a workbench, and various game trophies along the wall.

You can feel a gentle breeze come in through an open window to your right. Your body still aches horribly, and you notice that you have various small bandages around your body-arm, neck, abdomen, head. Additionally, your left arm is in a sling. You hear footsteps approaching your room on the other side of the only door-closed-to get in or out.

"uuuuuuuuugh....Where am I?" I attempt to sit up and then get to my feet. I'd like to greet whoever is coming standing. If I can stand okay, I'll go look out the window unless someone enters the room before I get to it.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:39, Wed 07 Jan 2015.

You strain to stand, but fail as a monster-sized man steps into the room. He has a bald top to his head, a strong jaw and pronounced, rounded cheek bones. Dull brown eyes jerk to attention as you collapse back into the bed from just trying to sit up.

He places the tray of food he has with him-chicken, oats, and some other fruit, from the smell of it. It smells delicious. And then he rushes to your side, helping you back into a less uncomfortable position in the bed. Grunting once, he raises one hand, gesturing for you to stay, and retrieves the food tray, placing it in front of you.

He nods at the tray, and looks at you.

"Dammit!" I groan in frustration as I fall back down.

"Thank you, sir. Did you save me?" I look at this strangely silent bear of a man gratefully, and see if he answers.

I will, of course, accept his offer of food. If it turns out to not be very good, I'll still eat it, but this version of me wouldn't pretend like it is good.

OOC: I've changed a little over the past few months, so its harder to step into character. Basically, the IC version of me has much more of an issue with lying than I do now. This is because my mom raised me to believe lying is one of the worst things you can do, one step shy of hurting someone. Problem is...she has demonstrated lying to everyone for months on end and seems to have no guilt about it. Why should I base my value system on the teachings of a hypocrite? These days I am more concerned about not hurting people than about being 100% honest.

I dunno why I felt like sharing this with you Krillis, but I do.

The food is, in fact, delicious. It has the taste that only home-grown and well-prepared can supply.

At your question, he stares for a moment and sharply nods his head, quickly exiting the room through the door through which he came.

OOC: I'm sorry to hear about the changes that have happened in your personal life. I recall you talking about going back to school, so I had assumed that things were going well.

If you're concerned about 'falling into character' realistically, I wouldn't worry about any drastic changes to personality. Our characters in Multiverser have experienced things beyond our understanding, and there's no way to know, aside from experience, what we would do or how we would change in these scenarios. A little inconsistency is to be expected-it's human. Or we can drop a well-timed coconut on your head.

What an odd reaction. He doesn't talk much, does he?

I will eat everything he brought, then sit up and examine my body for signs of injury or bandaging or anything.

OOC: Hah. Well I am sure I can play him. I just gotta picture the stick going somewhere it isn't supposed to go. I kid, I kid.

I am actually glad about the changes I am going through. I'm less stressed and depresses all the time. I care more about myself now, too. I guess it takes lots of life experience to figure out who you want to be and what REALLY matters. I have some solid skills that I know are useful in the real world. I've learned what relationships are really like. I grow ever better at GMing, and now I am running two troupes of Vampire the Masquerade in the same setting area independently. I really like this; the troupes do not know about each other but I use their characters as NPCs in each others games, and one day I am going to put together one massive Elysium and invite both groups at once. Surprise, those NPCS were actually PCs! :D

The food helps you focus and think a little bit, so you can properly focus on your bandages. They are in good order. While some minor cuts aren't covered, you count five areas that needed extensive treatment and hurt the most. Your arm that seems to have been dislocated and relocated, your upper back, abdomen, and right thigh have all been heavily bandaged.

OOC: I've heard of that working with a star wars game before, where two groups keep accomplishing missions against one another on the Imperial and Alliance sides.

This s probably a bad idea, but I would do it anyway so...

I poke at the wounds and test my resulting pain levels. Then I will move bandages long enough to see the wounds. If any start bleeding when I do this, I recover it immediately and grimace. I'll be cursing under my breath the whole while.

Poking your wounds give you a range of pain from nothing to extremely severe. From the pain levels, it seems that they're worst where your bandages are. And the poking alone makes your blood start leaking through them, casting the white with a rouge blend.

While you're doing this, a man steps in wearing a long sleeve shirt, brown pants with black shoes. You feel a practical style with his attire, and your eyes are drawn to the pipe he holds in his teeth. He has a sharp mustache and a goatee, all salt and pepper. He is balding from the front of his head, and holds a small tea cup in one hand and a teapot in the other.

He offers a smile, and sees you prodding your injuries. "I assure you, the bandages were done properly. We know our way around wounds, I'm afraid. If you're feeling strong enough, may I join you for tea?" His accent sounds American.

I smile apologetically. "I needed to know just how badly I am injured. I am not usually hurt like this, and I am afraid the last thing I recall was my boat going down in the storm. Did you rescue another man, by chance?" I pause. "And yes, of course you can join me. Sorry, a little distracted."

"Storms are, regrettably, not uncommon in the area. Still, I am glad that you made it safely ashore. We found you washed up on the beach." He pours you some tea. While he's pouring, he says, "No, no one else has shown up on the island, but since you say there might be another, I'll have Ivan, you've met Ivan I believe, check along the shore regularly with the hounds."

Then, he frowns. "I'm sorry, but if he doesn't show up by tonight, then he probably hasn't survived." He drinks his tea and passes you yours. The pillows stacked behind you help, but he doesn't lean in to assist you when you intake a breath sharply at a spike of pain."

He takes a puff of his pipe, "My name is Zaroff. General Ezekiel Zaroff, and I welcome you to my home." He holds up his small cup of tea at your bedside. Then, he takes his pipe and begins smoking it. "I apologize if my man-servant, Ivan, scared you. He can be off-putting, but I assure you that he has a gentle heart. He is simply a mute."

"Oh, I would very much appreciate that. If you find him, he goes by Sam."

I lean in anyway and take my drink. Pain never stopped me before. I grimace and start drinking my tea.

I nod in response t his introduction, and then say "I am Brock, a simple traveler who got lost in a storm. I actually have no idea where I am right now. If I may ask, what are you the general of, exactly?"

As to Ivan..."He did not frighten me, although I found cause to wonder if I had offended him somehow."

Concerning Sam, he replies, "I will tell Ivan. Rest easy about your friend. If he finds his way to the island, he'll have a bed and square meals."

He beams when you inquire about his status as 'general'. "Ah, I suppose it's an honorary title now. The American army technically, but I never led men in battle. I was a contracted out to train leaders in South Africa in political strategy, but I feel like I taught them more about gamesmanship in the end. The two are surprisingly similar at times..." He chuckles lightly. "Concerning where you are, you're on my island. I had certain success in my youth, which led me to acquiring this small piece of paradise. We're twenty miles east of Charleston, South Carolina. Where were you travelling when you were lost in the storm?" He inquires, pouring you a little more tea.

"Training leaders on South Africa? Why? I've not heard of that before..." I look a little confused.

"Well, as to where I was going, that's an easy and an awkward question to answer. I have no clue where I was going except that I knew it had to be somewhere safe. I woke up out on the sea on Sam's boat. That's as much experience as I can remember around here." I'll meet his gaze steadily as I say this, confident I am not technically lying or misleading, and the part I am leaving out isn't his business anyway. After I finish speaking, I calmly take my tea and sip.

Have you seen this response?

OOC: Oh my goodness, I am so sorry that I missed your post!

IC:

"Oh, they were having some issues with social management that needed another perspective." He waves off the question like it smells bad. "Far too much political nonsense, if you ask me."

Once you tell him about waking up on Sam's boat, his eyes brighten and a smile curls just past his mustache. General Zaroff rises, but not before offering to shake your hand before he exits. "It was a pleasure talking with you, Brock. It seems that you carry yourself well." He places a hand on one of your injured shoulders when he speaks, squeezing just a little too hard. "Despite the pain." You think that you see a smile creep in for another second. "Admirable attributes of a man." He finishes, walking out and leaving the tea behind for you.

I nod sagely. "Politics is a lot of work and exhausting too. After all, it is basically organizing people to do what you want them to do while managing their feelings. It's a lot of work."

Aw crap. I was afraid of this. Ah well, better than lying outright. I start to look around and examine the room for potential tools or weapons - just in case, you understand. I will also get up again. If I have trouble I will grit my teeth and try harder.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:06, Fri 06 Mar 2015.

You search the room briefly with a quick glance, finding that the only tools in sight are the pewter fork, spoon, and knife left to eat. For a closer examination, you try to get up to severe arcing pain along your injuries. You force yourself through the pain, and manage to stand to your head spinning for a moment.

After a minute, you summon your strength and move around, discovering regretfully that the only drawer that isn't decorative is in the dresser, which has a collection of various pants, shirts, and pajamas in various sizes. You notice in a bottom drawer that there is also leather outdoor wear, different hiking boots, and a plastic tarp that doubles as a raincoat.

I make note of the clothes, thinking they could be useful if a hasty exit is necessary. How am I currently dressed? I know I am bandaged; am I in the wrecked remains of my last outfit?

Do I see my things anywhere? Doubtful, but can't hurt to ask.

I eye the knife pensively. Surely he would not have left that if I am to be a prisoner....

I will also try to look out the windows and see what is going on outside.

You aren't in the wrecked remains of your last outfit. Instead, it seems that you were changed into dry underclothes while unconscious. You're wearing comfortable pajama bottoms and no shirt. However, when you rise, you realize that the pajama bottoms are actually neck-to-toe pajamas that are just unbuttoned for ease of access to your wounds.

Your window faces the mainland of his island. You can see the blue of an ocean on the far, far side from your high vantage point, but nothing else but healthy, bushy leaves covering trees in a jungle. You do see some area cleared out at the base of your host's estate, including some vineyards and kennels, but nothing more of note.

OOC: I'm terribly sorry, but my situation has changed enough that I don't have the time to devote to this game. I may have time later, but this just isn't working right now.

As always, you have my 100% support in your decision, Brock.

However, I don't post very frequently anyways, as you may or may not have noticed. If you feel like posting irregularly (I usually only get one response in a week now, sadly), feel free to keep posting at the rate that you can.

Otherwise, I completely understand how life's pressures can get in the way and make roleplaying experiences less fulfilling. Best of luck in your endeavors.