#swynlost

[foreverydinger]

NAME: Tony Lightfoot OCCUPATION: Musician/Bartender SECTION: Fuselage SURVIVAL SKILL: None Currently — He’s too injured  MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Family trip to see the Lightfoot family in America and returning home on this flight. PERSONAL ITEM: AirPods (but nothing to listen to) PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Realist: Tony’s a skeptic at heart and struggles to understand the blind optimism of the Dreamers. BIOGRAPHY: 

TW: Description of Plane Crash & Injury

Tony Lightfoot, formerly Rydinger, usually tries to find the easy ways out in life. Not out of laziness, though he’s been accused of that in the past, but out of a desire to take life as it comes. He’s in no rush toward the future, allowing himself to drag his feet so he can smell some roses.

He didn’t think that would lead him here. 

Barley had been quiet which should have been the first sign that something was wrong. Tony’s brother-in-law was never quiet. On the contrary, Ian being more chatty than Barley was more of a flashing neon sign than just a red flag. Tony had missed it, though, and had been just grateful to be able to throw an AirPod in without cranking up the music too high.

The crash happened both too quickly and everything seemed to slow down. The seatbelt light turned on, Tony scrambled to make sure Ian was alright, and then he didn’t get his own on fast enough before the plane dipped downward and Tony was thrown up out of his seat. He hit his head on something, he couldn’t tell you what, but what he remembers more is the snap of his arm hitting the top of someone’s chair just before he lost consciousness.

Now on the island, Tony is pretty useless as a survivor. His brain fog is too thick and his arm doesn’t want to do anything he tells it. He’s trying not to show it, though, because the last thing he wants is for Ian to worry about him instead of making sure Ian’s amongst the few that will get off this island.

[a-man-named-shang]

“If we can't live together, we're going to die alone”

NAME: Li Shang OCCUPATION: CEO of Li Fencing Company SECTION: Tail Section SURVIVAL SKILL: Knows how to build things/build a shelter. Is also physically strong enough to lift heavy things. MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Was bringing his father’s body back from where he passed away in Florida. PERSONAL ITEM: His father’s watch PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Person of Science BIOGRAPHY:

Tw: minor character death

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong it seemed. 

First, Shang’s father suddenly passed on a business trip to the United States. Then when Shang had traveled there to bring him back for the funeral, his luggage had been misplaced and he’d had to take a few extra days in the heat of Miami just to get that back. Then when he got his father’s coffin checked in they tried to overcharge him for it. 

And then to tack it all on, he missed the flight he was supposed to catch because security took too much time inspecting his bags. And when he was given a replacement flight? Not only was he not in first class like he had paid for before, he was put near the end of the tail section. One of the few open seats left. When Shang asked about it, they said he had insisted he urgently needed to return. If he was willing to wait a day he could have the accommodating flight that he preferred.

Shang just wanted to get it over with. So he took his lousy economy seat, figuring he’d deal with it and get to bury his father faster. Only neither he nor his father would ever make it to their final destination. One minute he was reading his book, the next his part of the plane went flying off as it fell away from the rest… and then he woke up staring at the sky. 

[dr-robking]

All the lights in Miami begin to gleam Ruby, blue and green, neon too Everything looks better from above, my king Like aquamarine, oceans blue  NAME: Dr. Robert King OCCUPATION: Surgical Intern SECTION: Fuselage SURVIVAL SKILL: Medical training  MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: On the way back from a medical conference at Miami Central University  PERSONAL ITEM: … a pack of Magnums… PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Person of Science BIOGRAPHY: 

Dr. Robert King was barely a doctor. He was just surrounded by them at a conference where the big names threw their weight around and he had to gawk at them for the sake of networking. Though, quite a few had done some good work. He developed some serious man-crushes on some of these guys. This week, his good work was limited to the numerous hotel rooms and clubs he saw the inside of. When in Miami, right? He had plenty of time to party and experience nightlife his small English town couldn’t dream of. His accent got him a long way with the locals and besides, Rob didn’t have a big talk to give or technique to pioneer at this point in his career. He knew he’d be the second most famous Dr. King one day…

Becoming a missing person on a missing plane was not how he wanted to accomplish that, though. And it really killed the potential he had to join the Mile High club on a paid work trip. Some shrapnel may have lodged itself in his body, he may now be laid up on a shitty beach with no piña coladas or cell service, but the Magnums survived and so did he.

[sowretchedsally]

what a crash, what a rush, fuck me up florida!!!

NAME: Sally Finklestein OCCUPATION: Unemployed SECTION: Tail SURVIVAL SKILL: None, officially… but she watched a lot of survival shows growing up a bubble kid! So she can theoretically help with survival tasks! MAGICAL SKILL: Medical Marvel - Sally had a heart condition when she left Miami… she doesn’t anymore? REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Sally is on her way back home from a visit to a world renowned cardiologist in Miami. The prognosis was not good… PERSONAL ITEM: Her bag of medicines. Unfortunately a lot of them washed away in the wreckage. PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Person of Faith BIOGRAPHY:

Sally was always sick with something. Sick with worry, with grief, with a broken heart. Her heart was made from a broken cast, never being whole in the first place. This was supposed to be the trip that saw an end to the constant hospital visits and loneliness. (Her only real companion was her overprotective service dog, Fang.)

Except the best doctor they could find told her she was irreparable. 

The surgery that was promised was called off, her heart couldn’t take the stress. Management was all she had to live with. So she flew back home, much higher than her dashed hopes of living a normal life. At least, the plane was higher until it took a swan dive into some twisted island. Sally woke up with red exit signs lit up across her face and Fang laying across her back. 

How cruel that she can survive a plane crash to see her soggy med bag half washed away by the tides. If her doses went up as they were supposed to, Sally had about forty eight hours until she was blue and gasping. Unless some higher power intervenes on her behalf, she is looking at a pretty pathetic ending. 

[barleythebrave]

NAME: Barley Lightfoot OCCUPATION: Children’s Librarian SECTION: Fuselage SURVIVAL SKILL: Physical Strength MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Family trip to see the Lightfoot family in America and returning home on this flight. PERSONAL ITEM: His set of dice PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Dreamer, but mostly because he really needs some faith right now. Ian’s pretty hurt and Tony’s really hurt and he also has to make sure Blazey has food to eat because he’s worried some people might not be so accommodating toward dogs. BIOGRAPHY: 

There was always symmetry in families, especially ones as large as the Lightfoots. It seemed that there was always one brother who shone so bright that he was burned by it and the other who was there to help patch up the wounds and send them soaring off again. 

Wilden & Linden. 

Ian & Barley.

Usually Barley didn’t give this a second thought, his love for Ian outweighing any jealousy that could have ever crept up in his throat, but visiting his family in the States always raised the feeling just enough that he had to focus to stamp it down. It wasn’t enough to cause a rift, he loved his brother far too much for that, but it was certainly more present than he would have liked. As such, Barley had been abnormally quiet on the flight back home, Blazey perched under his feet after sensing that the oldest Lightfoot was struggling just a bit with his nerves. He bit back a joke that Blazey and him were thinking the same thing: Getting on this plane was a dangerous & stupid idea.

Now he wished he’d spoken up.

Here he was, on an island without any way to signal for help, and trying to nurse his brother and brother-in-law back to health all with a dog desperate to help in tow. But Barley never backs down and never wavers, no sir. He’s doubling, no, tripling down on everything is going to work out fine! The island will provide! It has to..

[geehosaphat]

NAME: Martin Ambrosius OCCUPATION: Archivist for the Ambrosius family business SECTION: Fuselage SURVIVAL SKILL: Mild plant recognition MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Went to the music festival for Mim PERSONAL ITEM: Binoculars! He’s an avid birdwatcher! PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Faith. He believes the island will provide. BIOGRAPHY: 

Martin Ambrosius has lived a pretty tame life. He has taken up the family business, tried his best to wrangle his Wild Child sister, and fallen in love and married his sweetheart. Did he meet his lover on a random trip to Texas that Martin had taken just to spite his father saying Martin never did anything impulsive? Well, sure. Does Martin enjoy his archival work for his father? Yes, of course. Has Martin also fantasized about the day his father takes a trip six feet under so that Martin can get that thumb off his neck? What dutiful son hasn’t at least imagined it once?

When Mim begged Martin, Ren, & Sorrel to go to Miami for this music festival Martin had been unable to resist. She had a point about it being such an amazing bonding opportunity and the bands performing were some of his favorites so what could be the harm in a short vacation? Everyone needs time away from the office now and again, right?

The world seemed to have decided that this excursion was a crime punishable by plane crash. Maybe he hit his head after all, but Martin would normally be very against the idea of fate and magic but something about this island has him thinking they were meant to land here. The island will surely provide, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Martin is going to try to enjoy this unexpected stop to the best of his ability. Besides, there’s plenty of new birds to watch here!

[scampcomehome]

NAME: Scott Richards OCCUPATION: “Roadie” for South of Midnight / Professional Arm Candy for Lucky Doyle SECTION: Tail Section SURVIVAL SKILL: Absolutely None MAGICAL SKILL: None REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Traveling with South of Midnight!! It’s so exciting getting to get in with The Lucky Doyle! PERSONAL ITEM: His cell phone (no charger or signal) PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Still on the fence. He’s mostly just worried about dying. BIOGRAPHY: 

There are some people who are meant for little more than looking good. At least, that’s what Scott’s mother used to say and he took that to heart. Perhaps she had meant that lesson to be for his three beautiful sisters or perhaps she meant it as an insult for the vapid ladies in the other families they rubbed elbows with, but Scott took it as permission to be a rich slut as much as he damn well pleased.

Traveling was easy when you had money, and the Richards had plenty to spare, so it was no wonder when the flirty Scott Richards met the South of Midnight frontman Lucky Doyle resulting in the two hitting it off. Even when Scott eventually learned that the producer/manager for the band was Lucky’s official boyfriend didn’t sway him away from remaining firmly on Lucky’s arm every chance he got. Those chances only increased when Scott got hired on as a “roadie” for South of Midnight if only to get people off of Lucky’s ass for dragging Scott to every event.

Scott wasn’t complaining, of course, at least.. He wasn’t complaining until their plane crashed. They were supposed to be heading to London, England for the band’s next show (after that killer festival in Miami where Scott got so drunk he was still buzzed when the plane went down) and instead of getting to have a cuppa tea or some English shit he was now trapped on a deserted island with his famous boytoy, no cell reception, and no goddamn alcohol!

What is he supposed to do? He’s not cut out to be the Emotional Support Princess here! He’s not supposed to have to use his brain!

[bad-moon--rising]

NAME: Lucky Doyle

OCCUPATION: Frontman for the southern rock band South of Midnight

SECTION: Tail Section

SURVIVAL SKILL: Natural charisma so he might have some capacity to rally people, and he was raised in the country so he knows how to fish.

MAGICAL SKILL: None

REASON FOR BEING ON FLIGHT 2015: Going from the Miami music festival to the first stop of the band’s European tour

PERSONAL ITEM: His guitar picks/pick case

PERSON OF SCIENCE/FAITH: Science...ish. He might be swayed.

BIOGRAPHY:

Lucky Doyle was made to shine.

Once upon a time as a kid still unsure of himself he might have doubted it, but something magic happened when he stepped on stage. He told himself he'd remember to be humble, sure, but as the band grew bigger and bigger, as people started looking at him like he was something really special?

Maybe he lost a little bit of that.

Put a microphone in his hand and he commands a stage. He's got that sort of presence and confidence that just can't be ignored, and people claim a big part of South of Midnight’s success is how its flirty frontman knows how to play to a crowd.

Most also say the biggest part of how messy the band is might just be his fault too. Seems like it's always one thing or another. His very public dating the band's manager raised eyebrows and claims of some favoritism going on there, stirred up a few tabloids, sure. The constant presence of the pretty boy toy always hanging around and hanging off his arm, Scott, gained traction in the gossip circles. Late night parties and sunglass-clad hangovers ended up plastered on fansites.

If Lucky Doyle is anything it's never boring.

But he's earned it! The parties, the stars in his eyes, and the luxury of keeping his boys close, seeing the world with his family at his side. His siblings have earned so much too, he's quick to point out; they've all worked hard so they should enjoy it.

Maybe he enjoys it a little more than the rest of the band but isn't that only fair? He's gotta put in the work to charm the fans, gotta give 'em something to keep talking about.

But Lucky isn't enjoying it much now.

It was a music festival, just like a dozen others the band played every year, and just a flight to Europe to the first stop on their next concert. Same old thing, sleeping off a hangover in the back of the plane because the band insisted he and Scott move seats so they could get some peace until they got to London.

But they never made it that far.

Now he's stuck on some island in who knows where, feeling like he's lost because his siblings? His boyfriend? Where are they? His world went from bright lights and people screaming his name to choking on the sound of silence and feeling so very, painfully alone.

He still has Scott, his thin thread of normality in the chaos. It looks like they've gotta wait it out. Somebody will come rescue them and he's not going to accept anything less.

Things will work out, they have to! The universe is always on his side.