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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Jan 29, 2007 19:15:54 GMT -7
Christabel laid on the sand in the shade under the palm trees of the small island. Her thick black hair was splayed out on the ground around her face. The white-and-red-striped dress she wore was dirty and stained, no longer the beautiful thing it must have been when she'd first put it on. The skirt hid her feet, which were bare since she'd been required to kick of her dancing shoes in the water, or they would have inhibited her swimming. That was now at least four days ago, and all she'd been staying alive on was the single bottle of rum she'd discovered in an undground compartment. There was nothing else in there, so she was required to drink sparingly. The bottle was now almost empty, about a day's small ration left in bottom, nothing else. If someone didn't find her, she would certainly die by morning. And chances of rescue were slim to none. All she could do was wait.
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Post by Captain Jack on Mar 29, 2007 20:57:43 GMT -7
Paolo placed his hand up to his forehead as he gazed up into the blue sky. He walked along the beach in bare feet and torn up clothes. The red in his moppy hair was brought in striking way since the sun was beating down on him but most of the time his hair was brown with red undertones. Paolo had come from the same ship but was not one of those rich folk. Instead he was just a mere servant to the captain of the ship. Nothing special but after four days of thinking Paolo decided he would have rather drowned than having to starve to death. Maybe help would still come in search of the captain.
Meantime, Paolo still walked along the sandy banks since his own rations have run out and was looking for a new spot on this somewhat tiny island. He had been surviving on coconuts for the past four days but it takes at least three days to learn how to break those things properly so most of the coconuts were now gone. The only thing Paolo didn't except was someone else who survived. He spotted Christabel up ahead. He walked closer and closer until he was nearly almost next to her. "You're from the ship aren't you? I remember you." he asked. His voice was raspy and accented.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Mar 30, 2007 22:05:31 GMT -7
Christabel's dark eyes opened a crack as she observed the young man who towered over her. Blinking several times to adjust to the light, she then got a better look at him. "I am not sure I remember you," she replied in a heavy Spanish accent, retaining little of her old haughtiness. She sat up, sand sticking in her tangled black curls. "You are a servant of the ship, no?"
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Post by Captain Jack on Mar 31, 2007 12:15:46 GMT -7
"Yes, nothing special." he replied in his Scottish accent. "I see you've been surviving on a bottle of ail. Where did you find it?" Paolo asked shaking his head slightly to move some of his hair out of the way.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Apr 1, 2007 0:53:19 GMT -7
"There is an ale compartment under the sand somewhere," she replied. "I do not remember. It does not matter, it was empty except for this." Christabel shook the bottle. "There is none left in here either. Do you have any water?"
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Post by Captain Jack on Apr 1, 2007 12:05:09 GMT -7
"Unfortunately no. I've been surviving on coconuts for the past four days. But I've practically picked the trees bare on the other side of the island. I decided to walk around and see if I could find more." Paolo explained looking up at the palm trees. "Apparently there are more," he mumbled walking up to a tree then started climbing it. When he made it to the top he picked about five coconuts in reach and threw them to the ground. Paolo came back down picking up a coconut then started peeling it.
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Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Apr 1, 2007 12:27:08 GMT -7
"I had thought of that," she mentioned, "but I am useless at climbing anything. How do you break them?" she asked, picking one up.
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Post by Captain Jack on Apr 1, 2007 12:35:54 GMT -7
"Well, that's the trick." Paolo said taking the empty bottle of rum and setting it in the sand firmly. "It really is just a matter of beating them with a sharp rock. The practice is breaking them and not losing all the liquid inside." he added pounding a sharp rock at the nose of the coconut. After a few moments of that he started twisting the rock trying to make a hole and before long a cracking noise sounded. Paolo quickly placed the coconut above the empty bottle and poured the liquid into it (enough for one person at the moment). "Timing is another thing to practice with these things," he said then handed the bottle to Christabel.
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