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crossing_lostrpWho: All Play!
When: Day 28, early morning, immediately following "Tabula Rasa!"
Where: The Staff cafeteria
Invited: All amnesiacs
Status: Complete
Hangover or no, Sam already knew that he was good at observing people and situations and drawing conclusions. (Makes sense for a copper.) For some reason thinking of himself as a police officer filled him with pride.
The group followed the Asian -- (Probably Japanese) -- man down more drab corridors. "Somehow I don't think we're on holiday," he volunteered, earning a few chuckles from the others. "That would be one explanation for why a Londoner, another Northerner, an American, and a Japanese man are in this... structure." He'd gestured at each of his companions accordingly. "According to my badge I'm Detective Inspector Samuel Tyler from Manchester. You've no idea of your names?"
"'Fraid not," the gangly Northerner said cheerfully.
(Another addict? Or maybe we're all nutters,) Sam wondered.
The cafeteria was unremarkable except for the people who'd already gathered: an American soldier, a beautiful blonde in a hospital gown, a half-clothed, shapely brunette being chatted up by an equally handsome young man, an exceptionally tall young man holding a nearly empty liquor bottle, and a burly, scowling older man who looked ready to snatch the bottle back.
Remembering his reflection in the mirror Sam was beginning to feel downright ugly. At least he had the drunkard and the big-eared Northerner to keep him company.
The Japanese man stopped a short distance inside the wide, tiled room. He bowed, saying "Konichiwa."
The few who hadn't noticed their arrival turned in surprise. Then the older man who wanted his bottle back threw his head back and laughed. "Kamakaze to you too, Nip." Sam blinked at the man's callousness. "Anyone 'ere speak English? Or better yet, cook?"
OOC: If I forgot anyone or if you want your character to be in the cafeteria already, just holler.
When: Day 28, early morning, immediately following "Tabula Rasa!"
Where: The Staff cafeteria
Invited: All amnesiacs
Status: Complete
Hangover or no, Sam already knew that he was good at observing people and situations and drawing conclusions. (Makes sense for a copper.) For some reason thinking of himself as a police officer filled him with pride.
The group followed the Asian -- (Probably Japanese) -- man down more drab corridors. "Somehow I don't think we're on holiday," he volunteered, earning a few chuckles from the others. "That would be one explanation for why a Londoner, another Northerner, an American, and a Japanese man are in this... structure." He'd gestured at each of his companions accordingly. "According to my badge I'm Detective Inspector Samuel Tyler from Manchester. You've no idea of your names?"
"'Fraid not," the gangly Northerner said cheerfully.
(Another addict? Or maybe we're all nutters,) Sam wondered.
The cafeteria was unremarkable except for the people who'd already gathered: an American soldier, a beautiful blonde in a hospital gown, a half-clothed, shapely brunette being chatted up by an equally handsome young man, an exceptionally tall young man holding a nearly empty liquor bottle, and a burly, scowling older man who looked ready to snatch the bottle back.
Remembering his reflection in the mirror Sam was beginning to feel downright ugly. At least he had the drunkard and the big-eared Northerner to keep him company.
The Japanese man stopped a short distance inside the wide, tiled room. He bowed, saying "Konichiwa."
The few who hadn't noticed their arrival turned in surprise. Then the older man who wanted his bottle back threw his head back and laughed. "Kamakaze to you too, Nip." Sam blinked at the man's callousness. "Anyone 'ere speak English? Or better yet, cook?"
OOC: If I forgot anyone or if you want your character to be in the cafeteria already, just holler.
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[Gene]
Date: 2007-02-19 08:40 am (UTC)The fact that he didn't even know which division Tyler was in didn't faze him. Nor did the fact that he'd been an unmitigated pain in the arse for the last few minutes: if four-eyes here wanted to assume some kind of authority over the masses, he could fucking have it.
"The lass here needs painkillers, maybe more judging by those feet." Gene indicated she of the loose clothing - what kind of fashion that was, he had no idea. "Don't suppose you happen to have a first aid kit?"
[Isabel]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:01 am (UTC)"My feet are heavily bandaged and judging by how they feel they're quite seriously injured. I assumed this was some sort of hospital, but given all of you, I'm not so sure anymore. You're not dressed in scrubs and you don't look like doctors." She looked around the room, absently scratching at her arm. Her sleeve slid up and she gasped at what it revealed, pulling it back further and holding up her arm to study it. Most of her forearm was covered with a tracery of cuts. Most of them looked to be about the same age, many of them still covered with scabs although some appeared to have recently lost their protective covering. Red new skin peeked through and protested the motion of fabric over it. Isabel was silent for a moment.
"So whatever this place is, I don't think I'm here for my health," she said. "These are recent."
[Alia]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:05 am (UTC)Carefully she peered around the door and found herself looking straight into the eyes of a rather stunning young blonde woman, who'd just finished examining a forearm covered in barely-healed shallow cuts.
"Hello," the blonde said. Alia stepped into the room, aware of everybody's attention on her.
This is a right mix, she thought, looking around.
"Hello," Alia said. "I'm... I don't know who I am. Have... have any of you looked in a mirror?"
[Scott]
Date: 2007-02-19 02:22 pm (UTC)The group rounded the corner in time to see a willowy brunette enter a set of double door. "That should be the cafeteria," Scott told his companions.
Since a knot of people stood just in front of the doorway Scott and the others stopped just outside of it. He was glad to see the Brits, redheaded American woman, and the Japanese man inside.
"Um, hi," Scott called, trying not to squirm from so many eyeballs on him. "I come bearing more amnesiacs. And, uh, according to my passport, I'm Scott Anderson."
[Daniel]
Date: 2007-02-19 02:54 pm (UTC)"A very few of us here have found a way to identify ourselves," Daniel said quietly. He swallowed and looked up at the group very much wishing that he was not the one doing all the talking. Telling someone what to say sounded fine to him; advising someone sounded better. And for some reason, arguing with someone about what not to say felt familiar. "Some of us have dog tags, indicative of some sort of military service, and we have two law officers among us."
He blinked at the albino girl, then looked away. It wasn't polite to stare. (I've seen stranger than an albino.) That thought prompted a (Huh?) before he shrugged it off.
"Evidently, I'm Daniel Jackson." Daniel focused on the room at large, "Did anyone else check for identification or passports? And is this everyone?" (Aside from the people locked in a room. I'll deal with that in a minute.)
"Does this outfit look like it has pockets?" The brunette asked with a lecherous grin.
"No, it doesn't," Daniel answered automatically. He stopped himself from admiring her curves, although she didn't appear to mind the attention. He wore a jacket over his snug fitting black t-shirt and he automatically shrugged it off. Taking a few strides across the room, he handed it to her. "You might want to put this on before you catch a chill."
The (very attractive) brunette smirked. She glanced down at her breasts, "Yeah, guess it is getting a little nipply, huh?" Thankfully, she pulled on the jacket anyway. "Thanks, Danny boy."
Hoping that he wasn't blushing furiously, Daniel looked away from her and repeated his last question. "Is this everyone? Are we missing anyone? Did anyone see anyone else on their way here?"
[Mayday]
Date: 2007-02-19 03:15 pm (UTC)She smirked at the interchange between Daniel and the brunette, and suddenly didn't feel so self-conscious about the tank top and shorts she'd slept in.
She raised an eyebrow at Scott's last name. Cousins, maybe? She tapped Scott on the shoulder, still holding the photo in her free hand. "Hey. Had a thought - you think we might be related? Because if the guy in the picture is my Dad, there's a definite resemblance."
[Molly and Oona]
Date: 2007-02-19 03:55 pm (UTC)"An it seems we've got quite the international gatherin' here."
***********
Oona looked sympathetically at the girl in the hospital gown. "I don't know my name. But I woke up in scrubs, and I'm injured too." She touched the bandages on her arms that were visible. "Haven't had the courage to look under, but it's pretty painful."
She didn't mention the pulling feeling that she mentally associated with stitches.
[Scott]
Date: 2007-02-19 04:54 pm (UTC)Scott felt Ami's attention shift to him. /What do you mean? What's happening?/
/Hold on,/ he said quickly. May was waiting for an answer and starting to radiate suspicion. Scott turned his eyes to the photograph in her hand. The man in the picture did look a lot the image Ami had shown him. "Huh," he said aloud. "Maybe. You sound American, too. From New York City?"
May shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
The conversation around them picked up speed, drawing her attention. Scott tried to listen while relaying what had happened to Ami. /Good news and... weird news./ Scott felt the empathic equivalent of a nod. /The good news is that May touched me -- a tap on the shoulder -- and I didn't want to, uh... I did have the same reaction as earlier./
A bit of embarrassment joined Ami's curiosity. /That is good. What was weird?/
/First, no one here, and there's at least 20 of us, remembers a thing. Second, I could tell that May's not normal, either. It's subtle, but... she's different. Not telepathic, though. Don't ask me how or why I know that./
OOC correction
Date: 2007-02-19 04:56 pm (UTC)Re: OOC correction
Date: 2007-02-20 12:54 am (UTC)[Doctor]
Date: 2007-02-19 04:02 pm (UTC)"A head count wouldn't be remiss either. Even if we don't know names, knowing how many of us there are certainly can't hurt."
[Daniel]
Date: 2007-02-19 04:10 pm (UTC)"It shouldn't be a problem to roll back the video." Daniel looked around, "Maybe we should start the headcount with this group?"
"There are three more women," one of the red heads pointed out. "One was upset and the other two are with her."
"Okay, so we'll start the headcount with three." He gave her a grateful smile, "Thank you." He meant it, because he was starting to wonder if anyone was listening to him or had heard his other questions.
[Jon]
Date: 2007-02-19 04:29 pm (UTC)"I have no idea who I am, let alone the rest of you, but there's a guy, a woman and their baby in one of the rooms still. He sounds American, she's from Australia or New Zealand - I can't tell the difference."
Whether one of those three women just mentioned was the Brit in his head, he had no idea, but that was a topic he was going to avoid for as long as possible.
"There's a room with two guys* in it, too. I went back to the control room when they locked the door rather than answering -" And because he needed to know he wasn't imagining the freaky impression of anger and confusion he got despite their silence "- and there is someone there, two someones, but it was too dark to figure out why they're not coming out. I've got a feeling that at least one of them is taking this amnesia crap even worse than me."
*Methos and House
[Scott]
Date: 2007-02-19 05:05 pm (UTC)"I woke up in the control room," Scott volunteered. He and Daniel exchanged a look and shrugged. "Along with the feeds, there's a map of the interior of this building. Hopefully there's one of the surrounding area. Also, at some point those of us with passports should compare notes. We might be able to figure out where here is from the most recents stamps."
[Locke]
Date: 2007-02-19 05:42 pm (UTC)The pair overheard much of the conversation as they approached. All heads turned toward them when they stopped in the doorway. "Good morning," Locke smiled. His eyes swept the room, noting the two exits, the spectacled man who'd assumed leadership, and the soldier. (Marine,) he supposed. Gesturing at the blonde he explained, "We woke up in the same room. I'm afraid that we didn't think to look for ID." He nodded at his military garb. "Or dog tags."
[Ami, Daniel]
Date: 2007-02-19 09:31 pm (UTC)She squeezed in just behind an older, balding man and a pretty blonde. The man said something about dog tags, but Ami chose to remain silent temporarily considering that she didn't know where the conversation was going. A teenager lounged close by, looking insolent and bored the way only teenagers could. She spotted the top of Scott's head over the crowd and resisted the urge to make a mad dash toward him.
(It's like ducklings and goslings, making impressions,) Ami thought as she noted that people appeared to be huddled together in small groups of two or three, except for the rare odd person who stood alone. (We attach to the first people that we interacted with.)
Crossing the room to get to Scott would require her to put herself in the spotlight. Right now, Ami was mostly content to stand back and listen. She moved in enough to allow the couple with the baby to file in behind her and then while attention riveted to them, ginger's hair and most definitely the baby, she slipped around the back of the crowd to move closer to Scott.
"Anyone else find passports or anything to identify themselves?" A very handsome man with glasses asked. He wore a black t-shirt and military type pants, but didn't strike her as particularly military.
Ami squirmed and then spoke up, "According to my passport, I'm Ami Jackson."
The man in glasses swiveled his head to look at her. "Did you say Jackson?"
Ami nodded.
"I'm Daniel Jackson," he explained and gave her a reassuring smile. "Probably just a coincidence right?"
"Right," Ami agreed. (Because that leap simply doesn't make sense when I was sharing a room with Scott. Assuming that I *was* sharing a room with Scott. Oh bloody hell.) She folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked down at her feet.
Daniel Jackson, thankfully, took the hint. "All right. It's clear that there are passports and identification around, I think the first thing we should do is get a head count. Anyone have pencil and paper? We'll write our names and nationalities on the paper. If you don't know your name, make one up, but remember it because it's how we'll compare.
"Then everyone go back to your room, where you woke up. If you didn't wake up in a room then find an unoccupied room. I don't want to encourage looting, but we need to find every scrap of identification that we can. Then we'll meet back here.
"Questions? Suggestions?"
[Millie] I have a question
Date: 2007-02-19 09:47 pm (UTC)"What is it?" Daniel Jackson asked.
Millie pointed at the man in the old-fashioned suit who was babbling questions in French. "Would someone please talk to that guy before he freaks out completely?"
She'd been watching him for several minutes. She hadn't seen him come into the room, but he'd been wandering through the crowd talking non-stop. He'd been getting more and more agitated about it too.
Not surprisingly, since everyone was ignoring him. Even when he stood in someone's face and spoke very loudly, they acted like he wasn't there. It was undoubtedly annoying him and annoyance seemed to be verging on hysteria now.
Daniel Jackson looked at Millie with wide eyes. "Talk to...who?"
"Him!" Millie pointed again. "I think he's speaking French, but somebody here must speak it, right?"
"Millie," Daniel Jackson said in a careful voice, "there's nobody there."
OOC: Yes, it's Screaming Guy. After almost a month of running around shrieking like the damned, he's calmed down a little.
[Claire]
Date: 2007-02-19 09:54 pm (UTC)She waved to the bloke with glasses. "Got a pad over here, to start us off if you like? And I'm, uh, Claire Littleton." Her voice became small and embarrassed under the added scrutiny. "That's all we know so far."
The paper was duly allocated a table, but the queue wasn't especially long. Few people knew their name and others were debating what to pick - though she still wasn't that certain that she liked being a "Claire." Lack of self-knowledge was almost more disturbing now that she actually had a name, because the young woman in the passport actually had a life, credit cards, etc etc.. but she couldn't relate to any of it. She had a history that didn't seem to have anything to do with her.
At least she wasn't seeing people though, unlike Millie.
"I can't see anyone either," she volunteered, just in case the other guy thought he might be the odd one out. "Not speaking French, anyway."
[Jon]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:29 pm (UTC)Great: I hear voices, she sees invisible people.. what kind of person has a name like "Millie" these days, anyhow? Maybe this is some kind of lunatic asylum, after all.
He tried not to look at the redheaded man he'd met earlier, along with the black British woman who absolutely had to be the one he'd heard earlier. The voice was just too familiar, but she wasn't exactly rushing to make contact again. Fine by me.
Except that it wasn't - he didn't feel right in his skin and the voices weren't even that disturbing once he could put faces to them. It was his own face that didn't match whatever it was that he couldn't remember. Would his passport be as confusing, once he found it?
Time to try something different, because it wasn't like this wasn't already turning into a freakshow. He watched the two people he was most curious/nervous about carefully and attempted to flick whatever switch it was he'd been guarding for the last half hour.
/So, uh, anybody out there?/
Redirect to the reply
Date: 2007-02-20 01:42 am (UTC)[Isabel]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:30 pm (UTC)V... Vi... she had a definite sense that she should have something begining with a Vi sound. When the pad came to her, she took the pen and hovered over the page for a moment before writing.
"Vivian," she declared, setting the pen down, then picking it up again before anybody else could take it. "No... that's not right." Absently, she erased the name from the paper with a wave of her hand and wrote 'Vikki' instead before pushing the pad away. "Vikki," she said. "That's better. Still not right, but better."
She realised people were staring at her.
"What?"
[Dean, Sam]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:57 pm (UTC)Francis -- (Dammit, my name is *not* Francis!) -- frowned at him. "What else would you suggest?"
Ricardo crossed his arms and tapped his fingers with unspent energy. "I dunno. *Doing* something." Then the gorgeous blonde in the hospital gown bent over to add her name to the list. That got both of their attention. After a moment Fran-- (Frank. I can tolerate Frank.) Frank looked away. Ricardo continued to ogle.
When he leaned closer Frank put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, that's--"
Ricardo shrugged him off. "No, dude. You gotta see this!"
"What?" the blonde asked.
"How'd you erase that?" Ricardo asked.
Frank frowned at the shorter man. "With an eraser, maybe?" he drawled.
Ricardo punched him in the arm. "She's using a *pen* and there's no eraser. The name she wrote just disappeared!"
FIght the Shift!
From:[Scott]
Date: 2007-02-19 10:47 pm (UTC)Millie's imaginary French friend was another welcome distraction. Scott caught Ami's eye, then glanced in the pouty blonde's direction. /Do you see or hear an upset Frenchman?/
After looking that way she replied, /No. Considering all of the strangeness we've found already, maybe there is one./
Scott frowned at Ami stepped up beside him. /Like what? A ghost?/ Ami shrugged. Curiosly, Scott found the notions of psychics and aliens much preferable to the restless dead.
Shaking his head, Scott joined the line to add his and Ami's names to the list. There was some sort of commotion at the head of the line, where the leggy blonde hobbled on her bandaged feet. Again Scott felt like he should be doing something to help her as well as the other injured woman. (Like what? Try to talk to her with my brain? Touch her and find out that she's some other variety of not-quite-human? No, thanks.) Trying not to fidgit nervously, Scott stayed put.
OOC: MIA Dr. House
Date: 2007-02-19 06:19 pm (UTC)Re: OOC: MIA Dr. House
Date: 2007-02-19 09:21 pm (UTC)