An answer

[sparednothing]

[The radio in the communications tower crackles to life, any open journals catching the message, too]

Come in, Isla Sorna. Come in. This is the Relaxaocean Cruise Ship. [There's a pause, but the captain feels to go on regardless] Damn. If anyone is still alive out there, there will be a boat waiting for you at these co-ordinates [co-ordinates are given]. InGen have alerted us to the situation. We will wait twenty four hours for any survivors. [A soft mutter] Far too long to be near the five deaths if you ask me.

[Then, louder] I repeat, we will wait twenty four hour for survivors.

[[No sections make your own. Dinosaurs will appear later tonight. Powers are still functioning | Day four ooc post | Plot hub]]

Comments

[hard_talker]

[oh thank God, it worked. it ... woke him out of what little sleep he'd managed to grab, but it worked. blearily, Mark scrambles for the mic]

Relaxaocean, this is Isla Sorna, do you read us?

[pardon him while he starts checking everything over again to make sure nothing decided to shit the bed in the middle of the night. that'd be all they'd need]

Anyone got a journal handy that picked that up? We're gonna need those coordinates...

[compromisedarrow]

Right here.

[Clint walks up to Mark, holding his journal out.]

I always sleep with it open. Never know what might come through.

[hard_talker]

Wow, that's super creepy of you. .... Handy in this case, yeah, but creepy. ... Any idea how far it is from us? We need a map...

[compromisedarrow]

No clue. A map would be handy.

[And he shoots Mark a grim smile.]

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Sometimes you need all the info you can get.

[hard_talker]

I don't wanna leave the radio yet in case they call us back, but .... There's gotta be one somewhere in this building. Maybe someone else can go have a look?

[both_neither]

[From his post on a far wall, Gren speaks up]

I'll see what I can find.

[He shifts his rifle and goes to scout]

[compromisedarrow]

There we go. Sorted.

[He's going to move closer to Mark, though, because curious~]

You're really good with those things, huh?

[hard_talker]

Radios and shit? [he speaks as he works, head tilted to one side to hold the barely-alive flashlight between his jaw and his shoulder]

Yeah, I guess. I've been messin' with 'em since junior high, when I had the chicken pox. I was bored with bein' stuck in my room, and I had a busted-up radio that didn't work anymore, so ... I cracked it apart to see what was in it. My dad was pissed about the mess, but ... it ended up kinda bein' the beginning, y'know?

[compromisedarrow]

You'd be surprised how much gets invented out of boredom.

[Barton's going to be watching from a ways back, but his eyes are picking up everything.]

You're what? High school now? College?

[hard_talker]

I was halfway through junior year when I showed up here, two years ago. So technically I guess this is Paradisa U, most fucked up liberal arts college in the universe.

[findatree]

Relaxaocean? Is the Once-ler there?