(OTR: been busy with things, trying to rework my schedule now at work so I have more time for mafia +this + Destiny. Will try to keep up. Sony girl I read your PM. I wasn't exactly sure you were trying to interact with me. Get some actions down, or PM with what you want to do and I'll roll with it when I have more time :D.)

Dylan Sommers

After throwing away the core of the third apple he devoured, Dylan got off the counter and headed for a quiet corner in the room, away from the others. His body couldn't take it anymore. If he were to come out alive from this mission, he needed to rest. It could be his imagination or his lack of sleep, but the rookie was just sitting there doing nothing. "He's gonna cower off the mission. I know it." After backing up to the wall, he slowly slid down to the floor. The suit's back made a small whir as it rubbed with the steel wall. He folded both legs close to his torso with his knees touching his chest, somewhat resembling the fetal position. He was staring at Simon, who was getting acquainted with the rest of the team. "He humiliated me. That I can't forgive." He thought, "But he does have skill and that's what's the best for the team. So... swallow your pride. Just for *yawns* now. Just for... this... once." His heavy eyes finally gave up and closed shut. His right leg completely slid forward, providing a trip hazard for anyone who walked on front of him.

Chris frowned as he looked for the toilet. Everyone seemed to be busy. Even Jill for some reason was ignoring him. He shrugged as he wasted his hands.

OTR: Why isn't everyone busy?!?!?!?!??!

The pilot was checking a photo of his wife. No need to worry about what was in front of him, since auto-piloting was on. But that turned out to be a huge mistake, when the radar picked up some lectures.

Not one, or two. Six smalls dots, coming in fast, toward the ship. The pilot tossed asside the photo, just to be confronted with six missiles going right directly into his way.

- Holy crap!

He turned the plane as fast as he could, avoiding the first two missile strikes. But he lost control of everything as these birds require more precise inputs instead of those oddities, so the plane started going down. Thankfully, that was also helpful in order to avoid the third, fourth and fifth missile...but that can't be said about the sixth, which, taking advantage of the plane's trayectory, impacted right on it, on the pilot's cabin. The poor dude was inmediately roasted, then turned to ashes when the explosive went off. A huge chunk of the plane also flew off, but thankfully the War Room was unharmed.

Lt. Tear

- The fuck? - She screamed.

The plane, without anyone piloting it and severely damaged after the explosion, crashes on the outsides of Caracas, in what seems to be a jungle. No one got out of the plane before it smashing the ground, but everyone is safe (no one has dangerous injuries) tucked inside the War Room. You can exit the ship using the Hangar door, which leads outside.

Lt. Tear

A broken arm wouldn't stop her, but damn it hurts. She wouldn't show weakness before her team members, so she just bandage'd it. Not ambidextrous, but she can pop out some headshots using the left hand.

- Is everyone alright?

She wondered if everyone was alright. There were some people who would need extra attention now that they landed, like that wheelchair guy.

I knew I should have piloted this plane, Chros thought. How the they survived he didn't know. His foot felt like it was dislocated, though he didn't know if it was. 

He saw the woman who seemed to be in charge with a seemingly broken arm and asked "What's your name? I don't seem to recall. I'm Chris Redfield. Do you know what just happened? Does anyone need any help?"

Jill vomited. She never been in a plane crash before. Her head felt like it was burning, and she wasn't sure wether she broke any bones. Seeing her comrades on the ground, she went to help them.

OTR: Finally the story progresses. Also is this part a typo? The pilot was checking a photo of her wife. Is the pilot a lesbian? Then there's those part. The dude was roasted. I'm confused by this. 

OTR: The pilot is male.

EDIT: Ah, I see. Yes, it was a typo indeed xD

Dylan Sommers

It's a miracle that the plane's dive turbulence didn't wake up Dylan. But the crash flunged him to the other side of the room, strucking his head on the steel wall, which woke him up. He opened his eyes to see that the room was a bit dark. He looked around his body to check for any considerable injury, but none to be seen. Apart from his banged up arm from earlier, his head hurt like hell. His vision was blurry and he could smell burning metal.

"Ugh... my head." He whispered as he touched his forehead. His gloved right hand had a smudge of blood from the forehead. He scoffed at the sight of his own blood, "That's nothing." He slowly rose from his prone position and touched his holsters to see if all of his weapons were still there. He looked around the War Room, trying to make sense of what has just happened. "Ship crashed. Where's the p-- Ughhh..." Dylan stumbled, almost collapsing on the floor. He placed his hand on the wall, gasping, waiting for his vision to unblur. He could clearly hear the Lieutenant's voice asking if everyone was ok.

"Yeah, yeah! Sure." Dylan made a finger gun gesture with a wrist flick to express his wellness. 

As he got inside the cargo room, his vision got clearer. The bay was all a mess; broken crates scattered all over the room, a part of the ventilation shaft somehow detached and fell on top of a crate. Dylan couldn't help it but chuckle and talk to himself. "If I hadn't exposed Simon, he'd still be up in that vent... lucky son of a gun."

As he was nearing the exit, the first thing he could see was a bunch of trees outside. He felt relieved he finally left the ship. It felt more like a week inside it rather than several hours. Some of his teammates were already outside. "Venezuela?" he said to himself. While inspecting his surroundings, he noticed some smoke coming from the other side of the ship. He ran around it and saw that the pilot's cabin was destroyed and up in flames. "Fuuuuck..." Dylan whispered, trying to figure out what could've caused it. He hurriedly walked back to where the rest of the team was gathered.

OTR: This is the gesture Dylan made http://goo.gl/6NxxR8  Also, it's good to see you back, Wright.

Nina Ek

Nina's peace was shattered by the air craft rapidly changing course and then an explosion hurtling them toward the ground.  She snapped out of her trance tumbling around the kitchen.  She found the door opening it to where the majority of the crew were seated.  She grabbed the first seat she could find and strapped in waiting for death.  They smashed in and she felt her limp body jerk around violently.

She woke minutes later in a haze, blood trickled down her forehead and obstructed her vision. She felt sick and struggled to remain awake.  Focus. She had to focus.  Nina had already figured the mission would be troublesome, but a crash before it started exceeded her fears.  She held still getting her bearings, and finally unbuckled crumpling to the floor. Ugh.  She groaned and checked herself. Nothing serious, no broken bones or damaged organs, just a lot of scrapes and bruises.

Nina found her sword and pack and with a first aid kit she stumbled outside.  Dressing her wounds with alcohol and bandages she almost felt normal, but knew still be shaken for a bit.  They were in a lush jungle and she could feel the heat causing her to sweat.  All that mattered was survival and she had managed that, now to observe how the others fared the crash.

"Shit shit shit," regaining consciousness after the crash, Simon mumbled to himself as the room spun around him. "My bullets, not my bullets" he muttered as he tripped over himself and fell through the hangar door into the dirt. Laying still on the ground, he felt like he could feel the earth spinning around at thousands of miles an hour and by some miracle he hadn't yet been thrown off into space.

He grabbed two handfuls of earth, trying to keep himself pinned down until his head stopped spinning, but when it did, he only realized how much everything hurt. No serious injuries, he had always somehow been lucky enough to avoid broken bones and whatnot, but everything hurt. He couldn't move without hurting, he couldn't breathe without hurting. Honestly, he probably has a few broken ribs that he just chose to ignore. Probably not the smartest move.

Simon slowly made his way to his feet, (almost falling over again in the process) and stepped back to look at the crashed plane. "This is a damn mess, this whole mission is a mess and its barely even started" he said under his breath. Luckily it looks like everyone he knew made it out alive, but still, if you weren't covered in blood and full of broken bones you were lucky.

Backing up and walking to the shade of the nearby trees, Simon picked up one of his bullets leaving him with five in the chamber, and now three in his pocket...if how fucked this mission has been so far is any indication, that wouldn't be enough. Not even close.