Name: Corcra Dearg

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Appearance: Blue-black hair, similar to a ravens, falls to just below her shoulders in wavy tumbles, with her bangs being dyed a deep purple. Striking green eyes, flecked with blue and framed by thick, dark lashes, pierce your soul. Her skin is lightly tanned, neither pale nor dark.
She wears loose, sleeveless shirts, and denim jackets. Loose denim jeans, along with purple converts, complete the look. She's not overly tall, standing at five foot nine, and she's slim, as well as being pretty curvy around the chest area.
She often has a slightly bewildered or confused ex
pression on her face, but it's normally wondering about the behaviour of others.

Personality- Shy, keeps to herself. Doesn't speak unless she must, and doesn't really do well in large groups of people, preferring to stay on the sidelines and not get involved. She's actually pretty clever, but her knowledge isn't restricted to what she's learned in school. She also picks up useless, random facts, and has an almost constant storage of these in her brain.

S.O.- straight

Other: N/A

[[Alright, I'll start. o 3o]]

Corcra's emerald eyes flickered open, and she coughed up some water, sitting up straight and stretching her aching body. She had small bruises and nicks everywhere, but thankfully, nothing seemed too badly injured and she was able to stand up with little hastle. So much for going to Ireland for a nice, relaxing break, she thought.

Shaking out her raven hair, which was tangled, knotted, and soaking, she attepted to ignore the gritty feeling of sand in her clothes and small pebbles in her shoes as she took in her surroundings. She had, from what she could tell, crashed into the sea and washed up on the beach by mere look. The beach was a very tiny strip of sand, a hundred meters long at the most, but as there was grass growing where she had landed, she guessed this was as high as the tide got.

There was shrapnel from the plane, metal bars and chunks of concrete debris from the buildings nearby that had somehow gotten down this far, and she thought she saw the sickening shape of a dead body in the sand some way away. She closed her eyes and mumbled to herself, waiting to wake up, but when she opened them again, the nightmare world was still there. It apparantly wasn't a dream.

Sighing, Corcra stumbled to a pile of wood which she guessed was from a lifeguard hut or something, and sat down on a large plank, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. For some reason, she wasn't too ecstatic at the fact that she'd survived the crash.

~~~~~~

Skellig gave a small groan and sat up. Rubbing the back of his head, which, like the rest of him, was wet, he assumed it was water. That is, until he brought his hand back around in front of him, and saw blood on his fingertips. Sighing, he attempted to sit up, but putting any weight at all on his right leg felt like hell, and he soon found out why as he pulled his trouser leg up.

From his ankle to just above his shin was a deep gash, of origins unknown to the boy, but it was still leaking out blood, and he stood for another few minutes contemplating what to do about it. Shrugging his shoulders, he chose to roll down his trouser leg and try to ignore it as well as a slash on his arm and numerous other bruises and cuts.

Looking around himself, he realized he was on some sort of island, and cursed at the ground, the rocks, the sea, and anything in particular. It was just his luck to end up on some bloody island, so close to the main country itself that he could see it clearly from his low vantage point. His swearing over and a lot- although certainly not all- of his anger taken out, he chose a random direction and started walking, ignoring the ruins of homes and buildings, and trying not to think of the dead surely inside those walls, or what on earth had happened.

~~~~~

Lithium had awoken long before the others, and, having sat near the tail-end of the aeroplane, he had been possibly the least injured by it. After waking up, he had wandered in off the beach and into the main city itself, trying his best not to look into any of the houses for fear of what he might find. Even so, of the few houses he had looked inside, they had been surprisingly... empty. No life of any kind could be seen, nor any dead bodies, either, which puzzled him. What on earth was going on here?

Shaking his head in bafflement, he wandered in through the gats of Phoenix Park, the only part of the ence that was still standing. He thought it looked funny, this gate with nothing but debris around it, but was in too grim a mood to laugh. It saddened him that he could see no surviving trees around, save one or two tiny saplings, and he wasn't even sure those were alive. The entire area was a barren wasteland of crushed plants and wildlife, along with boulders of concrete here and there.

Sighing, he wandered over to a nearly untouched building, the only damage to it being it was missing its north-facing wall, but that wasn't much compared to the others. It was a two-story building, but nothing was left inside of it, and he couldn't see any stairs to go up to the second floor, so he just walked in through the wall-less side and sat down on the floor. Folding his legs, he closed his eyes, rested his hands on his thighs, and promptly began meditating.

It occured to him that he should probably be looking for supplies or other signs of life, or something, but he was surprised at himself in that he really didn't see the point. Might as well make the most of being alone and get some peace and quiet, he decided.

Skellig heard a shout, and after discovering that running probably wasn't a good idea in a rather painful way, he quickened his pace and began walking as fast as he could in the direction he came from. After a few minutes passed and he didn't appear to be any closer to the person, he began to wonder if it was perhaps his imigination, but shook the morbid thought aside and carried on.

Soon, he was happy he persisted, as he saw a group of people, maybe five, six, he wasn't sure, but they were people. He was, however, faced with one problem: While they were on an island, they weren't on his island. Sighing deeply at his luck, his shoulders slumped, and he walked up and down the edge of the water, scowling at the depths, trying to figure out how to get to them. They weren't far away; maybe twenty, thirty feet? Not too far. Deciding the water couldn't get very deep in that little distance, he walked into the water, wincing slightly as the salt entered his wounds.

He was about a third of the way there, and in up to his waist, when the ground beneath him dropped away. His smirk at the fact he had been proven right and that it wasn't that deep was quickly wiped off as well, as his head slipped under the waves, and he was met with a freezing dunking.

Gathering his wits quicker than usual, he swam, kicking furiously with his legs under the water, and paddling with his arms, his whole body still submerged as he drifted downshore a bit. By the time the ground levelled off enough for him to stand again, his wounds were aching, and bleeding profusely, and he had drifted about twenty feet away from the small group. Cursing, he shook his head, made his way onto shore, and headed in their direction, scowling at his trousers which clung to his legs and rubbed against his wound.

~~~~

Corcra heard the shout also, but found it easier to reach the group. She simply had to climb up and over the ruins of a cluster of buildings and she saw them when she reached the top. Stumbling down the hill of rubble, she jogged in the direction of the people, of whom she saw about two standing up and a couple of people on the ground also.

She reached them, and saw that, to her horror, the people on the ground were all bleeding profusely. Even more horrorfying to her was the fact that one of the people appeared to be no more than a child. How on earth that one had survived the crash, she had no clue. She only caught the tail end of something some guy was saying. She noticed, with a slight start, that his eyes were both different colours.

Shaking that thought from her mind, she looked around herself, but could see nothing to carry water in. ''How are we supposed to bring it here?'' She asked, voice slightly meek and small, but she was trying to make it firm. Just, not succeeding very much.

~~~~~

Lithium was completely unaware of the voice. He had been hearing various voices since he began meditating. Screams of pain and terror, of anger, anguish, hatred, love, passion, avengence, he had been hearing them all for a while now, quite vividly. He always did when he meditated, but... they were worse this time. Now, they weren't just nightmares of his imagination... they were memories ingrained into his mind.