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Post by Ethan Rom on Apr 24, 2007 14:04:18 GMT -5
Preston Saint's home located in the Other's Utopia village. Location found in box C3 below: Far off shot of Othersville in relation to the crash sites:
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Post by Preston Saint on Apr 24, 2007 14:23:13 GMT -5
***Preston enters***
For now, this was an interesting but dangerous turn of events. He had no wish to endanger himself, and he would come only if he was needed. Which he probably would be, at some point, being a general practitioner. A family doctor. And so many of them considered themselves family. Although in Preston's case, he was the estranged cousin who came round at Christmas only.
He switched on his ipod, tucking it into the holder on his belt. He jumped on his treadmill, and started it up, just running and listening.
Hearts are worn in these dark ages You're not alone in this story's pages Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying And I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in
The world's on fire and It's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water (I try to pull my ship) I try to bring more More than I can handle (Bring it to the table) Bring what I am able
I watch the heavens and I find a calling Something I can do to change this moment Stay close to me while the sky is falling Don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone
The world's on fire and It's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water (I try to pull my ship) I try to bring more More than I can handle (Bring it to the table) Bring what I am able
Hearts break, hearts mend Love still hurts Visions clash, planes crash Still there's talk of Saving souls, still the cold Is closing in on us
We part the veil on our killer sun Stray from the straight line on this short run The more we take, the less we become A fortune of one that means less for some
The world's on fire and It's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water (I try to pull my ship) I try to bring more More than I can handle (Bring it to the table) Bring what I am able
The world's on fire and It's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water (I try to pull my ship) I try to bring more More than I can handle (Bring it to the table) Bring what I am able
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Post by Preston Saint on May 3, 2007 15:18:13 GMT -5
After a while on the treadmill, Preston took a break, fetching a coke from the fridge. He didn't drink alcohol. Terrible habit, drinking, made people do terrible things, make mistakes, cause accidents.
He took a seat at his desk, positioned in front of his laptop. He unfolded large, horn-rimmed reading glasses, slipping them on, and got to work on the book again. The book about Religion, and why he didn't like it.
Once asked by a friend...at the time...why he was anti-religious, he found that the number of reasons he had were almost too many to list. And so he decided to make a list, which quickly evolved into a book that was so far twenty-five chapters and counting. It was nothing new, of course, a nobody putting across his views in a book, resulting in them becoming a somebody. But Preston didn't much care for fame due to controversy, he did it for two reasons.
The first was his own piece of mind, to put his thoughts down on paper. The second was that he felt people needed to hear what he had to say. The text was important, not the man saying it.
He pushed his glasses further up his nose, and got back to work.
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pearl
Having An Athma Attack
"I could use some therapy" plg%%Sarah & Aaron Parker%%
Posts: 1,207
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Post by pearl on May 7, 2007 7:29:27 GMT -5
Aaron jogged up the few steps onto the porch of the small house that was not in the slightest different from all the others. Maybe Preston would know how to value a little 'otherness' by a new color to his home. But that thought was instantly dismissed considering the last tenant he wanted to give uniqueness back. Which hadn't been really rewarding. Finally Aaron managed to reach the door and knock. After all, he had figured the house of the local geek a little different than this.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 7, 2007 8:58:33 GMT -5
Preston stood, hearing the knock on the door. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing a little. Hopefully not someone asking him to go on the mission quest into the jungle.
He headed to the door, opening it to find Aaron standing before him. "Yes?"
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pearl
Having An Athma Attack
"I could use some therapy" plg%%Sarah & Aaron Parker%%
Posts: 1,207
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Post by pearl on May 7, 2007 9:05:19 GMT -5
He headed to the door, opening it to find Aaron standing before him. "Yes?"
"Oh ... hey sunshine. Look, we're heading out to the aft part of the plane. I hear you have a first aid kit or something in the house? Oh, and could you watch out for my capuchin monkey while I am gone. She tends to get all giddy without me!" he smiled.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 7, 2007 9:50:30 GMT -5
"Oh ... hey sunshine. Look, we're heading out to the aft part of the plane. I hear you have a first aid kit or something in the house? Oh, and could you watch out for my capuchin monkey while I am gone. She tends to get all giddy without me!"
"A first aid kit? Yes, one moment." he said, disappearing for a moment. He returned a second later with a small first aid kit. "Wait, what do you need it for exactly? How long will you be gone?"
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pearl
Having An Athma Attack
"I could use some therapy" plg%%Sarah & Aaron Parker%%
Posts: 1,207
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Post by pearl on May 7, 2007 9:59:56 GMT -5
"Wait, what do you need it for exactly? How long will you be gone?"
"Thanks ... Well, a plane just went down and I figured a medkit would come in handy somehow. I don't know how long it will take ... sorry. Tom and Linus are very secretive about this. Don't you forget about my lil' monkey, Karli!" Aaron nodded over at her house not slipping his eyes off Preston.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 7, 2007 10:12:14 GMT -5
"Thanks ... Well, a plane just went down and I figured a medkit would come in handy somehow. I don't know how long it will take ... sorry. Tom and Linus are very secretive about this. Don't you forget about my lil' monkey, Karli!"
He handed the kit over. "All right then." he nodded. "Karli? What do you mean?"
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pearl
Having An Athma Attack
"I could use some therapy" plg%%Sarah & Aaron Parker%%
Posts: 1,207
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Post by pearl on May 7, 2007 10:24:26 GMT -5
"All right then." he nodded. "Karli? What do you mean?"
Aaron glanced over at her house finally ... all the shutters were still closed. "You know ... she will realize I am gone for a while at one point and I don't want her to freak or something. I mean she is really cute but kinda wild. I don't want her to scrape the wallpaper off and: You will have to clean her litter box ... women get, you know, when they are nervous!" Aaron twitched an eye at Preston as he decended the porch backwards. "So ... thanks for the medkid ... I am off to save some virgins. Keep your locker clean!" Waving for Goodbye Aaron backed off in the Gazebo direction.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 7, 2007 14:46:09 GMT -5
"So ... thanks for the medkid ... I am off to save some virgins. Keep your locker clean!"A bizarre human being. "Until later, then." he said, watching Aaron leave. He looked around at the outside, around the barracks. It was almost barren now, just about everyone had left for the gazebo, organizing themselves and getting ready to leave. He quickly shut the door, leaving it unlocked. He didn't particularly like the idea of being cooped in, not since his escape during childhood. flashback triggered: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=rpgbios&action=display&thread=1176881922&page=1#1178567216
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Post by Hollywood Heidi on May 7, 2007 16:24:08 GMT -5
***SEVERAL HOURS PASS SINCE THE PLANE CRASH AT 4:16 PM. IT IS NOW EVENING***
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Post by Preston Saint on May 12, 2007 12:15:01 GMT -5
Preston was alone. Just alone, carefully watching a soup he was preparing. He sighed contently to himself.
Almost the entire population was gone, leaving a peaceful silence. Perhaps one or two people were still in their homes doing whatever they needed. He was all alone for now. He was better off alone, after all. It was much better than dozens of people talking at once.
He wasn't a loner, not exactly. He just preferred his privacy, his time to think and just do what he wanted without anyone ordering him about, or making suggestions, or making him feel judged.
Cooking was therapy of the purest kind, just like exercise. And therapy was definitely what he needed, which was perhaps why he spent so much time doing both of those things.
He left the soup for a moment, heading over to his CD player. He turned the volume up to it's maximum level, and pressed play before returning to the soup.
I met you before the fall of Rome And I begged you to let me take you home You were wrong, I was right You said goodbye, I said goodnight
It's all been done It's all been done It's all been done before
I knew you before the west was won And I heard you say the past was much more fun You go your way, I go mine But I'll see you next time
It's all been done It's all been done It's all been done before
And if I put my fingers here, and if I say "I love you, dear" And if I play the same three chords, Will you just yawn and say
It's all been done It's all been done It's all been done before
Alone and bored on a thirtieth-century night Will I see you on The Price Is Right? Will I cry? Will I smile? As you run down the aisle?
It's all been done It's all been done It's all been done before
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Post by ana on May 12, 2007 12:32:56 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
If it hadn't been dark, Samantha might have never spotted the secluded houses amongst the trees. It was only the lights shining through the window that drew her attention. Well that, and the blaring music coming from one in particular. Even though it wasn't music she was familiar with, it was the sweetest thing she'd heard all day because it meant she'd found help.
Though her bare feet were sore from pounding the hard jungle floor in search of civilisation, she never the less picked up speed and headed to what looked like the back of the house. It was only when she was in knocking distance that she paused to check her appearance. Even if she was in desperate need of rescuing, there was no excuse for looking like a tramp. She heard her mother's voice at that thought. So many times she'd been dressed down for not being quite the English Lady that she was supposed to be. Somehow it never sat right with her.
So here she was, stood at some stranger's back door, knotting her blouse to cover her modesty and smoothing down her ragged skirt in a rather lame effort to look respectable. Just before she tapped on the door, she scooped her hair back from her face and cleared her throat. It was important to give a good impression, especially since she didn't even know if the occupant spoke English.
Knock, knock.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 13, 2007 16:22:49 GMT -5
He turned around at the knocking noise. Who the hell was that? Aaron again, or Sofia, trying to disturb him?
He sighed, running a hand back through his hair. He dashed over to the CD player, hitting pause. He wheeled around again, and headed toward the back door. The back door. Why were they knocking at the back door?
He fiddled with the keys, unlocking the door and cracking it open. "I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he got a good look at the woman at the front door.
A woman he'd never seen before, and he definitely would have seen her before. He would've noticed someone that beautiful, after all. For a moment, he was slightly stunned by her beauty, before he began realizing who she was. A survivor.
Everything about her screamed it. The filthy, torn clothes, the marks and scratches that would be healed in no time at all. The overall dirty look of her that was strangely appealing, which he hoped was a deep psychological trait of his rather than a disturbing sexual fetish he had yet to uncover.
"Jesus." he breathed, raising his thick eyebrows in surprise. He opened the door wider. "My God, are you all right? Come in, come in...God, are you from the crash?" He asked all this with genuine concern, although in the back of his mind, he knew what to do. He had to keep her here, keep her occupied until the others returned. Until then, she would have to be a prisoner in his home, albeit an unknowing one.
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Post by ana on May 13, 2007 18:06:12 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
For a moment Samantha wondered if anyone would be able to hear her over the music, but then it was abruptly cut off. The sound of heavy shoes coming nearer and the jangle of keys in a lock put a very large smile on her face. It was hard to contain her relief as the sound of a real live person on the other side of the door. She held her breath as the door creaked open.
"I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of-"
Samantha had been all set to introduce herself until the guy's face appeared from within. Wow, those are some big eyebrows....
"Jesus."
"As much as I'd love to be able to turn water into wine, I'm afraid you've got the wrong person." She said jokingly, hoping to break the sudden shock that seemed to have settled in on this guy's face.
"My God, are you all right? Come in, come in...God, are you from the crash?"
She stepped cautiously through the door frame, but kept the smile on her face.
"Ah, no...I'm not God either. My name is Samantha Harkness." She held out her slightly dirty hand for him to shake as though she were meeting a Vicount at a dinner party. "And you are right, I was in a plane crash. I assume you saw it coming down?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 14, 2007 2:32:28 GMT -5
"Ah, no...I'm not God either. My name is Samantha Harkness. And you are right, I was in a plane crash. I assume you saw it coming down?"
"Wow, you're all....English and everything." he said, feeling the sudden urge to imitate her accent. "Oh, sorry, that's not exactly high priority right now. Yeah, a bunch of us saw it come down, the majority of us are making their way to the crash site. My name's Preston Saint, by the way."
He took her filthy hand, shaking it enthusiastically, and then closed the door behind them. "They'll be back soon, then we'll try to sort out what's happening." he said. He then drew closer to her, inspecting the wounds on her face and arms. "Those wounds don't look too bad, considering...I might need to clean them up a little. Do you need anything besides medical attention? Food, water, a bed, or shower, or anything?"
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Post by ana on May 18, 2007 16:29:53 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"Wow, you're all....English and everything."
Samantha couldn't resist an amused grin at his surprise and interest in her voice which she'd always thought was kind of plain, but had numerous times held foreigners spellbound.
"Oh, sorry, that's not exactly high priority right now. Yeah, a bunch of us saw it come down, the majority of us are making their way to the crash site. My name's Preston Saint, by the way."
"Pleased to meet you Mr. Saint. I must admit I hadn't expected to find an American out here. Though to be honest, my hopes of finding anyone had been fairly slim. I haven't even seen any other survivors." She took her hand away and began to look around the inside of his home.
"They'll be back soon, then we'll try to sort out what's happening."
"Well, fingers crossed they can find someone alive." Preston moved closer to her, looking at the scratches and cuts she'd recieved in the crash.
"Those wounds don't look too bad, considering...I might need to clean them up a little. Do you need anything besides medical attention? Food, water, a bed, or shower, or anything?"
"That's very kind of you, but actually all I need is a telephone." She said, sounding very calm and practical. "I was supposed to be catching a conecting flight and since it would appear I'm going to miss it, I need to make arrangements. Do you mind if I borrow your telephone?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 18, 2007 16:49:43 GMT -5
"I was supposed to be catching a conecting flight and since it would appear I'm going to miss it, I need to make arrangements. Do you mind if I borrow your telephone?"
"Telephone?" he raised his considerable eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I...well, none of us have one. We have a station to contact the outside world by, but no telephones-wait, where do you think you've crashed?"
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Post by ana on May 18, 2007 17:17:39 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"Telephone?....I'm sorry, I...well, none of us have one. We have a station to contact the outside world by, but no telephones-wait, where do you think you've crashed?"
The outside world? Something about that particular choice of phrase sparked Samantha's curiousity. It wasn't uncommon for remote places to have a radio contact rather than telephones, but given the very ordinary looking village setting that this guy was living in it just seemed strange.
"Well I'm only guessing, since there's hundreds of islands in the South Pacific, but my calculations would place us somewhere in the Fiji Islands? Or possibly Tonga or Samoa." She looked off into middle distance while she tried to recollect her geoghraphical knowledge.
"Perhaps even the Cook Islands, though I think we'd have to have been wildly off course to have crashed there. As far as I'm aware we hadn't had any reason to make a detour."
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