Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.<br/><br/>Alejandro had taken a plane to travel far away, broaden his horizons, the first step of many to come for his cooking to improve, but he was scared. Lets face it, you can be some of a renowned chef in that little safe circle that you built for yourself, but you have to take risks if you want to move beyond that. So without knowing shit about the English language maybe it was just a stupid idea to jump into a plane to the other corner of the world, but it was the kind of bold and sudden decision that you could commit to in a moment of courage, knowing that backing off after having the tickets would be harder. Of course, Alejandro had ended up heavily doped up during most of the plane trip, fighting fear to changes and the boredom of a long trip with prescription narcotics, but his cozy trip into unconsciousness was abruptly broken with the accident.<br/><br/>Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.<br/><br/>He didn't know what happened, but he was no longer on a plane. No more reheated food or tired looking stewardesses, people snoring next to him or bad movies on the screen. Alejandro was laying on his back on the beach sand, his clothes already dry by the scolding sun, white marks of sea salt on his comfy and utterly bland beige pants, a disheveled white shirt missing a couple buttons covering his not exactly chubby but a bit soft torso. A few suitcases seemed to have suffered his same destiny, ending on that God forsaken place, while the tore up remains of the tail of a plane where stuck on the rocks half a mile along the beach. His eyes were still closed, the blinding light making it unappealing to open them, his body sore sending small needles of pain to his brain.<br/><br/>Tremble and noise, fear and screams, then nothing.<br/><br/>Alejandro's shook brain finally realized that he had been on a plane, and that it had gone down. Where was he? Was he dead? A female voice that came from next to him and yet sounded far could be the one of an angel, and yet, when she started to shake him into consciousness he knew he had survived the accident. "Para, para, estoy bien, que cojones..." he mumbled, opening his eyes, the one that awoke him just a blurry silhouette against the sun.<br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><br/>Character Profiles: https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83110<br/>OOC: https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/forums/showthread.php?tid=83109