<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v140/Lockepick/Character%20Pictures/6e6c4fa8-8c63-426d-8be2-dff93c9e04cd_zps0d60e44c.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>:<em>Hospital Corpsman Third Class</em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">James Endast</span><br/><strong>Location</strong>: Middle of nowhere<br/><strong>Time</strong>: Late.<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Open<br/><hr/><br/>James was thrown to the floor as the cubicle landed in the ice and snow below. He laid there for a moment, waiting to see what else might happen. He didn't know what to expect, like crashing through the ground, or maybe he had more to fall. There was a level of shock that made it difficult to analyze the situation. It felt like an hour, but was only a couple of seconds before he pulled himself up onto his feet. He gave himself a quick once over, not trusting his body to actually feel pain with the adrenaline through his system. Nothing seemed to be protruding from his skin, thought he heavy suit he was wearing made it difficult to really prove that anyway. He patted himself down, to make sure he still had his MOBA, before moving over to the door. The wind howling outside made it difficult to be certain he wasn't still falling, but he pushed aside that primal fear and began to kick at the door. A few hard kicks that echoed inside the cubicle, before a shoulder slam sent the door flinging open.<br/><br/>He stumbled out a few steps, eyes darting around quickly before he managed to resist tumbling into the cold ground. There was some comfort in seeing other people out there, even if it meant others were just as screwed as he was. He cocked his head to the side with a little surprise at seeing Thomas, but it didn't seem like the moment for a reunion. He stepped out of his cubicle to head towards the two, "Is everybody alright?" He eyed each of them over, as if their actual response meant less than his own quick analysis. He turned his head at the sound of somebody still inside their own cubicle. He cleared his throat, tightening up his hood now that he could actually feel the wind against him, "We need to check the rest of these... things for more people, and then we need to get moving somewhere... Unless anybody knows that plane is coming back, we should move out."<br/><br/>He was already moving towards Aibhlinn's cubicle at the sounds, gesturing for the others to check out cubicles. He wasn't really a leader, he wasn't used to giving out orders. He was just terrified, and not happy with being outside in the snow. He knocked on the door to the cubicle, "I'm going to get you out." It was a brief automatic encouragement, even if James didn't necessarily know that 'out' was better than 'in.' He gripped the handle and brought a foot up to the side in an effort to wrench the door free. The exertion of sore arm muscles was one thing; the real painful part was the quick inhales that came with it, rushing icy air right to his lungs. Once the door was open, he rested his hands on his thighs, "A-are you okay? Are you injured?"