Character Bio's

A rush of humid tropical air rushes into his lungs as Otto gasps for breath. His head hurts; he's dazed. The sun feels so hot. There's a hum of activity around him, but he can't quite grasp what's happening at first. He starts to take in his surroundings: a hot, sandy beach, a tropical tree line with highlands in the distance, dozens of people running around seemingly aimlessly, and - most confusing of all - huge scraps of smoldering metal. As he shakes his head and begins to process everything, he recognizes it as the wreckage of a plane. I was on a plane. The plane isn't all there, though. He can't see the nose section, and the entire back half seems to be missing. I could see the sky after the loud noise... Slowly bits and pieces start falling into place. What seem like hours worth of details flood his head in a matter of seconds. He rolls himself onto his side to get better leverage, and slowly rises to his feet. Nothing seems to be broken. His head is still pounding, but he's not in any serious pain. He starts to make his way toward the nearest group of people.

Born in Portland, Oregon, but raised on the East Coast (in various locations), Otto Hanren - son of Ann and Stan Hanren - always loved the guitar. He saved up his allowance money for months and months when he was young, and he bought himself his very first guitar. He taught himself how to play by listening to some of his dad's old vinyl records by Geronimo Jackson, Three Dog Night, and even a Patsy Cline album. He'd play little concerts for his brother and sister, Dan and Suzanne.

He and a friend eventually got a little act together and played a lot of local bars and coffee shops. They began to get noticed by talent scouts in the area. A fellow by the name of Thomas Browne told them he really liked their sound and felt they'd be great for a tour of the British Isles he was putting together. Unfortunately, while in England, they ran into some creative differences, and while walking out, Otto was held up for the little bit of money he had left by some crazed musician on a heroin spree. Otto thought he recognized him as the lead singer of one of the bands he'd seen the night before.

Fortunately, as his assaulter ran off he was seen by a woman passing by on the street. She yelled at him, but he disappeared down some side alley before she can could catch up to him. She went back to check on Otto, who was shaken but unharmed. She told him her name was Penelope and that he was lucky he only had his wallet taken.

The middle section of the plane is tilted at a precarious angle. One wing sits far too high in the air to remain in one piece for long. All around injured, scared, disoriented people run frantically in circles, only a few seeming to have their wits about them. He watches as a man (whom he will later learn is named Vlad) leaps into the waves to rescue a fellow survivor (whom he will later learn is named Roger). He rushes over to the shoreline to help Vlad carry him to dry land. They determine quickly that Roger is breathing normally and isn't really in any more danger than anyone else.

The sounds of explosions, screams, crying, and calls for help fill the air, but Otto swears he hears something out there in the jungle over the din of it all. A swarm of whispers reverberates around his head for but a moment. He can't make out what they're saying, but they're definitely voices...

Stitch, You probably are not going to believe this, but that actually sounds a lot like me!! I love it.

Thanks Kate,

you probably wouldn't fly Oceanic Air though, I think that you would use your own private jet, but that's the big difference between you and Miranda.


Stitch

Stich.....loving the irony. I love her. The rideo? brilliant. Love the touch about the dog b/c I hate dogs. So glad you did it b/c TR is a nut. I get to be white trash.....freakin brilliant!!!

Blonde I think by the time TR gets home her little dog may be very well named. But at least we know now why the Losties look so good, TR had all that free makeup and the skills to use them. I wonder if she had a beauty salon somewhere up the beach, just out of the camera's range.

Oh & Vinnie you are a love. You are sweet like candy to my soul. sweet you rock & sweet you roll.... just didn't thing you would be up for the bio-writing. XXXOOO x 1000000

All is forgiven Blonde, it is your birthday week after all!

Great work so far by everyone!

Blonde How I would love to write yours!

but I am afraid my imaginative mind would run riot rather quickly and the results could steam reader's windows up! We'd go from RPG to XXX within a sentence!

It can't be a coincidence either that an anagram of both your names Blonde/Tallulah Raye turns out to be:

'A LAUDABLE HORNY TELL' !! which is exactly what my story would have been LOL!

I think it's best we leave this one to the professionals!

Solar-flirt, you are a piece of work. Between "bangers" & "ass-tapping" that is. I guess we better stick with Sweet Stich & the tale of the white trash hairdresser with the poodle from Garland. Tough pill for me to swallow, but TR can be whoever Stich wants her to be. I just might bling her a little & take her more Hollywood. Go take a cold shower Casanova. XXXOOO

I tell you what, stitchey has a very good sense of narrative, and reminds me of Kevin Spacey in The usual suspects, conjuring up plausible scenarios with scant information. Sticher Sauze!

I am thinking of getting him to write my latest personal-dating profile! I was on a uk dating site for 3 months with the profile as 'Come and get it!'. I am going speed dating in a fortnight and I want him to create a persona of some mystique which i can act out on the night.

If I had the job of doing PR's personal dating profile, I would make it very saucy & spicy to grab attention & it would have to be:
"I'm Brash White Trash, so Flash your Cash, I'll Canoodle my Poodle, Noodle your Doodle, & your Ding-a-ling will go Bling!"

Stitch can you turn the Lad into the Lord in a fortnight?!

Of course I can Solatchap

Young Lonely Londoner

SC is a typical londoner who liked the nightlife and the party scene but although he often saw many sweet girls his pick up lines left much to be desired. He had given up all hope on his ability to find a girl and on his pick up lines. And it was by giving up on these notions that he managed to find his true love.

SC went to a speed dating night and realised that the way to win a girl's heart was to be interested in who they are rather than who he wasn't. The first question that SC asked was what her favourite flower was. A question that bemused the girl, who wanted to know why he asked that question. He replied that his favourite flower was a white cranation because that represents love in its simplicity and form. She replied then my favourite is a red rose.

SC then felt his heart leap and said that is so romantic, a red rose represents passion and long lasting love, which is my dream.

SC and the red rose girl exchange meaningful looks and SC says ...





BUT before he can express the thought it was time to move on to the next date, Hurley's identical twin sister

Stitch you are a funny romantic!

LOL! that is bloody BRILLIANT stitch!!!!

they say the truth hurts............OUCH! haha

He had given up all hope on his ability to find a girl and on his pick up lines.

this is so true!

to be interested in who they are rather than who he wasn't.

that my friend has hit the nail right on the head!

as i read on, I nearly believed that this could actually happen to me!

SC and the red rose girl exchange meaningful looks and SC says ...

at this point, i would usually say " Go on darling, give us a smile, you know it's the second best thing you can do with your lips....."
yes I think the problem is highlighting itself now!

but Stitch! did the one bit of true romance I am ever likely to get (i.e. in a story!) have to conclude with Hurley's identical sister!?!?!?

I am still laughin over here in Blightey, cheers mate you made my day!

I say we swap out Hurley's twin with Sienna Miller & everybody's a winner.

you do like me taking those cold showers don't you! I'll be in there all night haha

Steve

I guess the best way to describe my decision to travel on Flight 815 and end up on this tropical island nightmare is to use the expression just desserts, or to be cynical just deserts!

Allow me to explain I used to work for a tourist company in Sydney that would plan and organise walkabouts for both local and international tourists. Walkabouts, an Australian activity since the dawn of time, is both a spiritual and survivalist activity that requires time spent in the middle of our great inner deserts. Australia is mostly desert with a coastal fringe of habitable areas.

To journey inland is both dangerous and amazing. Deserts that are red in colour and a sun that burns hard with no respite.



Lake Eyre, a great salt lake of tectonic origin, lies asymmetrically in the south-western corner of the closed inland drainage basin in the heart of the Australian continent. With an area of 1,140,000 km², Lake Eyre Basin is the largest Australian drainage division apart from the Western Plateau and is one of the largest areas of internal drainage in the world. And yet it is a lake that is dry and has over the last 200 years had water in it only six times. And then for only short periods.



And yet it was to this harsh wilderness with a promise of cure salvation and enlightenment that I sent that poor deluded American couple. I took their money and sent them off in a car to travel to Uluru to see the faith healer Isaac. A journey that without a guide is fraught with peril. Many a tourist and local has died in the empty heart of this dry continent. I had no idea how they got on, but their money was what I needed to move to LA to start afresh, away from my tainted image in Australia. And maybe find work in Hollywood as those movie people seem to like the good looking hot aussies.

OK, I admit I was no saint, but you will never know how lucky I am that when I first met that American couple I had quite a beard and dark sunglasses. Even more happier that before I left I shaved off the beard and got myself a new look. Damn good thing, as who else should have ended up on that doomed flight but that deluded American couple. Thank goodness they don't recognise me but I recognise them.

How is that for just deserts!!

Well, we asked for it

Stitch great backstory can`t wait to meet you on the island.
Solarchap what can I say I haven`t heard that many great oneliners since my bar days!

(Tittering & giggling and approving ‘please impregnate me’ style sounds from the girls)

Solarchap,

You are back to square one with your backstory for Dirk. I have deleted your post as it is a bit too adult in its details. I think that it might be better for you to try again and write a more family friendly version. I know you can do it!

Stitch

LOL, I thought it might not make the cut.

They say that a second draft is always better, though not a second draught, or a tenth draught!

Oh well Solarchap. Just write this next one before two am and I`m sure it will make it past are family fun moderators.

solar never means to upset people, and I expected the executioner's chop but you got to believe me, that was TAME!

I am not sure I can do 'family friendly'!, my whole lifestyle is the opposite, the party I went to last night was most definitely not family friendly!

thankyou all for reading it though!

What can I say, Dirk had to smirk at his piece of work, people giggled but then Dirk got diggled.

All in a day's fun though!

Solarchap - here, I'll write a family friendly version for you:

Dirk Diggler enjoyed [content deleted] especially if he saw a [content deleted] with big [content deleted]. He just couldn't help himself. One night, while [content deleted] in the back of a [content deleted], he discovered that [content deleted] and [content deleted]. He never thought to ask how old she was. I guess the [content deleted] had blinded him. Next thing he knew he was [content deleted] in some back alley with his [content deleted] and he knew he had to get out of town.

So off to Australia it was. Of course, on the flight there, he couldn't help but [content deleted] the first flight attendant that smiled at him. She certainly didn't appreciate it and [content deleted] him right in the [content deleted]. "Fiesty [content deleted]," he thought to himself.

And Australia was no different. There were so many [content deleted] and there was so little time. He knew he was in over his [content deleted], though, once he [content deleted] the wrong [content deleted]. That's when the [content deleted] hit the fan. Australia was beautiful, but not the place for such a [content deleted]. He missed London. He'd heard California was full of [content deleted], even if most of them weren't born with them.

So, he boarded Flight 815, hoping to find a safe place to [content deleted] a nice [content deleted] to dinner or at least [content deleted] her in the [content deleted]. Unfortunately, his sorry [content deleted] never quite made it to the USA. Before he knew it, he was waking up on some sandy beach with a sore pair of [content deleted] and his head spinning. Heck, at least there seemed to be plenty of [content deleted] on this little island, and no local law enforcement to tell him to keep his [content deleted] to himself. Sometimes what life has in the cards for you is better than what you'd have chosen yourself. Dirk smiled as he brushed himself off and watched some [content deleted] wearing nothing but [content deleted] rinsing her clothes off in the water. Maybe this was just the place to [content deleted] his [content deleted] and actually get away with it.