NOTHIN' PERSONAL — joining,

[RUSLAN]

[align=center][div style="width: 400px; text-align: justify; line-height: 15px;"][font=calibri]Ruslan was never one to take to water. He could if he needed to, but the dark and watery depths of the ocean always gave him the creeps. His fears were made a living hell this past month when he and his sisters had to climb onto a rickety boat and sail across the ocean in order to escape their home, which was now in ruins.

The young man was glad to be safe and on land now, but another challenge awaited him — adjusting to post-apocalyptic America. The people and their mannerisms were different here, as well as the terrain and weather. The Badlands especially was the polar opposite of his snowy homeland. He found himself having to dress down in order to keep himself cool.

Ruslan had been strolling along the beach when he heard a sudden exclaimation, which he had followed to a soaking wet man powdered with sand and sea salt. He creased his brows, stopping in place and assessing the situation. He really wasn't quite sure where to start here. Should he unbind him? What if there was a reason he was tied up in the first place? The last thing Ruslan wanted to do was endanger his sisters. "What..." Rus started off, taking a moment to string his words together properly, "The reason you are here... is?" His english was choppy, and the Russian accent that accompanied his words made it clear that it was not his native language. He knew enough to get by, however, and he was pretty sure that whatever he asked would be understood by this washed-up soul.

[Shiloh !]

Salem didn't have much experience with the ocean. Growing up in the Northstar District, she didn't exactly have easy access, and when the apocalypse hit...let's just say learning to swim was the last thing on her mind. However, when she arrived here not too long ago, she chose to walk on the sandy shore. It seemed inviting, and the calm lap of the waves had soothed her racing mind. Clearly, this man didn't feel the same way.

She pulled out a pocket knife instinctively upon seeing the ropes, only just stopping herself from cutting them when she realized that one of the higher-ups would have to approve his arrival before he could be freed. She simply stood, hovering in front of him, knife in hand; part of her hoped she came off as threatening.

"Should we be sympathetic or suspicious, stranger?" She looked down at the ropes that bound his feet again, hoping he'd understand what she was signaling towards.

[THE ATLAS.]

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[b][i]the parasite — .

Atlas heard footsteps and whirled around, quickly attempting to stand back up before he stumbled and landed back on his hindquarters. He wanted to stand back up, but then another person had joined, holding a blade pointing towards him. A wave crashed behind him, and he bickered rather angrily under his breath as he flicked the wet sand-clogged hair out of his face. He tried to stand again, holding his hands out to remain balanced.

"[glow=black,2,300]Would you kindly back up so I can stand away from this damned ocean[/glow]?" Atlas asked, voice low as he tried to stay upright while the wet sand sunk between his toes.

He lifted a foot up to shake the sand out and lost his balance when the water struck his other leg and he nearly fell. He caught his balance and stood like a fawn for a moment, then straightened his posture. Atlas stuck his hands out as he finally processed that these people likely wouldn't help him, and turned his palms towards the woman's blade, trying to defuse the situation.

"[glow=black,2,300]I'm Atlas[/glow]," his accent was so thick, he was sure they'd think him crazy. "[glow=black,2,300]Was thrown off me fishin' boat. Stripped of me belongin's and tossed ov'rboard. Surprised I survived such a plunder. Am not here t' cause havoc, but would greatly appreciate it of one o' ya could get these roped off me wrists 'n ankles. Hurtin' my skin[/glow]."

With that, the Irishman offered his arms to show the red marks under the rough texture of the ropes.

[TEDDY.]

[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]There was commotion on the beach. Teddy would know as he lounged on his beachside porch, sliding door wide open and leading into his hotel suite. He lowered his legs he’d kicked up for comfort, lifting his sunglasses to take a better look down the beach towards the gathering in the distance. Was that a newcomer? Then kicking his mules off, Teddy wandered barefooted out onto the beach, casual stride over to where Ruslan and Salem had already confronted the man. ❝ Hey, where y’at? ❞ He questioned — his very own way of asking what the hell was going on here.

He stopped beside Salem, brows knitting together and lips pouted slightly as he looked towards the beached newcomer. ❝ What happened to you? ❞ A very valid question considering the state of the man. Teddy appeared somewhat baffled, lip slowly curling before he used his hand to gesture towards the man. ❝ Someone cut them ropes off of him. It ain’t a good look here. Where did you come from? ❞

[Shiloh !]

//salem cutting the ropes can be powerplayed here!

[THE ATLAS.]

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[b][i]the parasite — .

Atlas' brows lifted when he noticed Teddy walking over, and he could feel humiliation burning at his cheeks. All he needed was yet another person to see him in his knickers. He sighed impatiently and put his hands on his hips, scrunching his brows together. He needed to think of a story quickly, he didn't need someone to know how humiliatingly weak his story would be- of being tossed overboard his own boat. A lightbulb flickered on and he faced Teddy.

"[glow=black,2,300]These two won't let me go, they think me some kind'a robber or somethin'! I don' look like one of 'em to ye, do I[/glow]?" He growled, glaring between the two. "[glow=black,2,300]I just asked for 'em to cut me free[/glow]."

When Teddy demanded someone to cut his ropes off, and Salem stepped forth, Atlas impatiently handed out his hands for the ropes on his wrists to be taken off. As his ankles were freed, the Irishman turned to Teddy again, brows still furrowed in anger, as if it were Teddy's fault he was tossed overboard.

"[glow=black,2,300]I had just escaped one of the worst places on eart'. A giant boat, wit' t'ousands of men 'n women! Kept as pets[/glow]," he replied, shaking a freed leg and crossing his arms.

"[glow=black,2,300]speech[/glow]."

[THE ATLAS.]

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the parasite — .

Ocean water has always been the least favourite of Atlas. He hated the smell, hated being submerged. He hated what lay under the dangerous waves. He hated that at any moment, the ocean could swallow you, and drag you under. He hated the dangers that the ocean posed. Hated that one wrong move, and death would be your next bet. Hated that you had to pray to escape the hungry waves. Hated the sharks, the fish, the creatures. [i]The unknown.

Atlas especially hated the birds, seagulls that didn't have a brain. They stole your food and rudely pecked at you.

That past bit didn't sit right with the man, and a sudden rush of ocean water going up his nose made him shoot up and start coughing, drawing himself up onto his hands and knees as tried to rid the water from his nose. He rose his voice at the seagulls that had been surrounding him, assuming him as dead fish, swatting at them while he rose to his shaky legs. He was almost bare, with his undergarments to spare him humiliation. It was then, as a seagull's shadow passed over top of him, that he remembered what had happened.

He remembered with such anger that he had been stripped of his belongings and tossed overboard, and the rope still tight around his wrists proved that. He grunted and tried to loosen them, finding it no use without a sharp object. Though, one thing Atlas was grateful for, was the fact that the unknown of the ocean sometimes helped. It had cut the rope between his wrists and let him have free hands to swim. However, sometimes it didn't always help, as he went to take a step and he fell, hitting the sound with a rather wet plap. He groaned and rolled over, then slowly sat up to find that his feet were still bound. Of course they were.

"[b]Feck!" Atlas barked.