[Veronica] -Where the hell am I going?
Feb. 26th, 2007 12:47 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
richdudekrptnte.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
crossing_lostrpWho: Veronica
Where: Stumbling upon the bunker
When: After the amnesia hits
Invited: Anyone!
Status: Complete
When Veronica left the beach to head to the bunker, she knew who she was. On her way there however, things got hazy, and then all of a sudden like magic she had no idea whatsoever who she was or what she was doing. She also didn’t know where she was going or where she came from. This was a terrible feeling for the teenager, who felt pretty helpless at this turn of events. She knew things, like she knew who the first president was, and how many things were in a Baker’s Dozen, but she didn’t know who she was, and that was terrifying.
When it hit her, she felt dizzy and weird. She had no clue what was going on. It was a horrible thing to not know who you were, and to just have everything in your mind be completely blank.
Who am I? Where did I come from? Am I dead? Maybe this is my coping mechanism… That might make sense, right?
It occurred to her, while she was walking, that it just might be a good idea to check her pockets, so she took a moment to sit down and breathe. She pulled out a wallet and inside were several pictures of people, and she was in some of them, but she didn’t know who the other people were. She also noticed that she had several IDs. Most of them bore the name Veronica Mars, one of them was for a 17 year old Veronica Mars, one for a 22 year old Veronica Mars, and one for a 24 year old Veronica Mars. There were a couple others with different names on them, which was greatly confusing to the already horribly confused girl.
What the hell kind of name is Veronica Mars? That must be fake.
For now she had to go by something, and judging by these IDs, Veronica seemed to be the best bet. But how old was she? She certainly didn’t think that she was 22 or 24, so that probably meant that she was 17. She looked at some of the pictures, flipping them over to see if names meant anything. Only one picture had writing on the back of it, and it was one of her and some other taller blonde girl. It said.
Lilly and Veronica, ages 16 and 15
Who was this Lilly? Was she Veronica’s sister? Veronica didn’t know why but looking at this picture of Lilly and herself made her very said.
Frustrated, she put everything back in her wallet, tucking it away, while playing with the star necklace around her neck. She didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed like it was important to her somehow. She continued walking until she was nearly exhausted and had reached some kind of…bunker.
“What the hell?”
Where: Stumbling upon the bunker
When: After the amnesia hits
Invited: Anyone!
Status: Complete
When Veronica left the beach to head to the bunker, she knew who she was. On her way there however, things got hazy, and then all of a sudden like magic she had no idea whatsoever who she was or what she was doing. She also didn’t know where she was going or where she came from. This was a terrible feeling for the teenager, who felt pretty helpless at this turn of events. She knew things, like she knew who the first president was, and how many things were in a Baker’s Dozen, but she didn’t know who she was, and that was terrifying.
When it hit her, she felt dizzy and weird. She had no clue what was going on. It was a horrible thing to not know who you were, and to just have everything in your mind be completely blank.
Who am I? Where did I come from? Am I dead? Maybe this is my coping mechanism… That might make sense, right?
It occurred to her, while she was walking, that it just might be a good idea to check her pockets, so she took a moment to sit down and breathe. She pulled out a wallet and inside were several pictures of people, and she was in some of them, but she didn’t know who the other people were. She also noticed that she had several IDs. Most of them bore the name Veronica Mars, one of them was for a 17 year old Veronica Mars, one for a 22 year old Veronica Mars, and one for a 24 year old Veronica Mars. There were a couple others with different names on them, which was greatly confusing to the already horribly confused girl.
What the hell kind of name is Veronica Mars? That must be fake.
For now she had to go by something, and judging by these IDs, Veronica seemed to be the best bet. But how old was she? She certainly didn’t think that she was 22 or 24, so that probably meant that she was 17. She looked at some of the pictures, flipping them over to see if names meant anything. Only one picture had writing on the back of it, and it was one of her and some other taller blonde girl. It said.
Lilly and Veronica, ages 16 and 15
Who was this Lilly? Was she Veronica’s sister? Veronica didn’t know why but looking at this picture of Lilly and herself made her very said.
Frustrated, she put everything back in her wallet, tucking it away, while playing with the star necklace around her neck. She didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed like it was important to her somehow. She continued walking until she was nearly exhausted and had reached some kind of…bunker.
“What the hell?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[George/"Millie"]
Date: 2007-03-02 06:26 am (UTC)"Ooooh, somebody's gonna get his ass kicked if he ain't careful!" Millie said. She shrugged. "Time to pay for breakfast, I guess," she said. She stood up and picked up a couple of plates.
"Hey, May," Mille said, "You wanna wash or dry?"
[Veronica]
Date: 2007-03-02 04:07 pm (UTC)Yeah it sucked royally that no one knew for sure who they were...but they couldn't just do nothing. Hopefully it would all come back to them, and in the meantime they would have to make do with what they had and knew right now. If they thought too much about it, they'd all go insane.
Veronica pulled her hair into a ponytail and then grabbed a couple of the plates.
[Gene]
Date: 2007-03-02 04:14 pm (UTC)Someone - maybe more than one - was talking, but all Gene could do was gape like a bloody perch on a line. Not that you found many perch in the canal these days, but.. what the fuck am I on about?
What he definitely didn't want to do was keep looking at those Ears, and he could already feel heat spreading outwards from his sideburns. The embarrassment brought about by his silence was going to be his downfall soon enough: he should have had a come back long before now, not that this bunch of liberal wankers would appreciate his witty repartée. But.. Ears!
"People who prod me tend to get their arms broken," he growled eventually, forcing his eyes towards Pointy Ears' - don't think about it! - face. "You get an exemption for now, because I'm an officer of Her Majesty's Police and don't hit girls. Much."
The words came out a weaker than he'd intended, but it was better than nothing, save the disbelieving snorts he heard from elsewhere. Bloody good excuse to kick his chair back and round on someone else though. Several someones, since they'd all been getting his bleeding goat since he woke up, and that bloody hangover still hadn't let go - little wonder.
"Look, if I'm outdated, it might have something to do with you lot informing me that I've been out of it for 30 years. What do you expect, a bloody miracle? I might not know when I am, but I'm sure I pass for normal when I'm from, because you lot might as well be a bunch of aliens. Wouldn't surprise me if this poncing around is how we got in this mess." Ears! No looking.. "If you lads have a problem with that, I'll be happy to take it outside."
At least a couple of the boys looked a tad keen, and he had a feeling that he'd feel better after giving them a good pommeling, but two or more on one? Better than bloody nowt. Maybe then he'd get some fucking kip, painkillers, more hair of the bleeding dog.. fry-up'd be nice, but Ears had cooked that. Still hadn't the foggiest why that scared him so much, but there had to be a reason. Maybe she was his worst fucking enemy.
Back to the matter at hand.
"Anyone?"
[Dean/"Ricardo"] Fight club
Date: 2007-03-02 04:29 pm (UTC)Although Hunt's tone had approached civil, he hadn't come anywhere near an apology. Ricardo couldn't believe that every Englishman from the 70s was as much of an ass as this guy. Plus, he really wanted to *do something*. He may not remember any specific fistfights, but he was confident that he was damn good at them.
"I do, Gramps." Ricardo smirked at the Brit's glare. "Being a sexist jerk and constantly shooting your mouth off about it are two different things. So yeah. Outside." Ricardo headed for the outside door, daring Hunt to follow.
[Scott] Food club
Date: 2007-03-02 04:44 pm (UTC)Instead Scott glanced down at Ami, momentarily getting lost in her eyes. Then he blinked, 'saying', /I'm still hungry. Wanna see what else we can find for breakfast?/
/Absolutely,/ Ami grinned back, and they headed to the kitchen. Walking hand in hand with her felt natural.
"Thanks," Scott said to May and Veronica, who'd brought most of the plates to the kitchen. Then he raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "We're going to fix some more food. Who else is hungry?"
OOC oops
Date: 2007-03-02 04:47 pm (UTC)Re: OOC oops
Date: 2007-03-02 04:48 pm (UTC)[Ami] Pancakes?
Date: 2007-03-02 09:58 pm (UTC)Scott glanced at her. Ami felt his curiosity and a bit of wariness, although the only thing that came across in his voice was calm neutrality. /Oh? Uh . . . good or bad?/
Ami gave him a coy smile as she turned away to look in the cupboard. /Good. At least, I think that it's very good./ Searching the shelves helped her push back the flickering thoughts summoned by that reminder of very good.
A large white box, branded DHARMA, claimed to hold pancake mix. Not the fancy flour that required eggs and oils and lots of work, but the instant 'just add water' sort. Ami pulled it down telekinetically with a laugh, without even thinking about it. She underestimated, the box wobbled in the air, and she caught it before flour was dumped all over the kitchenette.
"Who wants pancakes?" Ami called.
[Mayday] Fight club
Date: 2007-03-02 04:45 pm (UTC)She rolled her eyes at Gene's less-than-mature reaction, but when the James Dean guy - really, she had to get his name already - ignored her and rose to the idiot's bait, she couldn't restrain herself. "Hey!" she called after him. "Hell, I don't know your name, hold up a second!"
Mentally apologizing to Veronica and Millie, she moved to intercept him before he could get to the outside door, hopping over a chair as she did so. "As much as I agree with you, could we maybe NOT beat the crap out of one another until we all have a better idea of who we are and what the hell is going on?" In a lower voice mainly for "James Dean" to hear, she added, "And come on - is that guy REALLY worth wasting a punch on?"
She glanced over at Gene. "As for you, 'outdated' is not an excuse for 'asshole.'"
[Gene]
Date: 2007-03-02 11:10 pm (UTC)He hadn't looked in the mirror, but he didn't feel like the kind of man that women fought over. Then again he was married, if the wedding ring was anything to go by. I wonder if I have kids? Now there was something to be afraid of, but if he did they'd surely have more sense than this lot.
Nodding to Ricardo - who'd shown potential earlier, more's the shame - Gene followed him to the external door, happily turning his back on those Ears. "After you, lad."
When the door opened, he got a waft of more vegetation and heat than he'd ever experienced in his life - that he knew of.
"Fucking hell! Hot enough, anyhow." Hunt shed his large coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves, performing a few upper body stretches for show. He might not remember his name without help, but this felt reassuringly familiar. "Queensbury rules, or anything goes?"
[Molly] Pissing in corners
Date: 2007-03-03 12:40 am (UTC)"I really need to hit something, or kill something, or generally be destructive." She tried to stomp out of the kitchen, but she was too small and graceful to really pull it off.
Pearl looked over. "That child has anger management issues." Then she looked to the doors leading to outside. "Then again it appears many of us do. Must be the stress. Or the testosterone."
Within moments Molly reappeared with what appeared to be a longbow and a quiver of arrows. "Was in our room, and it's my size. I'm going to go... kill a tree stump."
Pearl's lips twitched. "I'm sure it will have done something to deserve death."
[Ami]
Date: 2007-03-03 04:40 am (UTC)(That's mad, woman,) she scolded herself and immediately went back to searching for a bowl. But for a moment there, watching Molly walk, bow in hand and pointed ears on display, Ami was reminded of fantasy, fictional elves. Except that Molly wasn't tall and lithe and willowy, or beautiful beyond words, but there was a grace in her stride . . .
Ami shook her head to clear it and popped up with a large stainless steel bowl. "Ta da!" She waved the bowl proudly before setting it on the counter and turning to Scott. "Could you find me a spoon, love? Preferably something wooden."
It wasn't until the words slipped out that Ami realized what she said. She hadn't even thought about it, but somehow they just felt *right.* Blushing profusely, she returned her full attention to the kitchen and raised her voice, "Any orders for pancakes?"
"Sounds good," came a voice from the doorway. It belonged to the older Yank who occupied a spot in her head. He walked in with his wife/girlfriend and his baby on his shoulder. "I think we missed breakfast."
Ami stared at him a beat, wondering if he were the one with the odd nickname and even worse birth name that she wrote about in her journal. Unfortunately, she hadn't described the mysterious "MB/Megabyte/Marmaduke" whom was her childhood friend and also trapped on the island with her. Whomever the friend was, he shared her abilities though and thus far Ginger had shown himself to be telepathic and telekinetic.
/Do you know your name, yet?/ Ami 'asked' suddenly.
He shook his head slightly. /Nope, not yet./
/Can you teleport?/
His eyebrows rose and he stared at her. Fortunately, the baby made a noise and he shifted his attention. /What?/
/Nothing. Never mind,/ Ami said hurriedly. She turned back to the cupboards in search of a measuring cup.
[Claire]
Date: 2007-03-03 10:45 am (UTC)Ami indicated the box with a wry grin. "DHARMA special - whatever that means. We'll have to wait and see."
Claire grinned as Ami's bloke (well, it seemed pretty obvious to her) handed the other woman a spoon. Amnesia wasn't a barrier to domesticity then, with or without a baby to point the way. She wondered how many other people had 'woken up' in situations that made them feel awkward.. and whether they were all jumping to conclusions. I hope not.
She turned away from the counter and noted the open door, leading to outside. There were still a few people in the cafeteria, but not half as many as before. "Where'd everyone go, outside?"
"Some went clue hunting, the obnoxious police guy'll probably be back with a bloody nose, black eye.."
Claire blinked. Well he had sounded like something out of The Sweeney. "Ok.. You're feeling better though, right? You were looking pretty crook after whatever that was, uh."
'Chris' had promised an explanation, but it didn't seem to be the kind of thing he wanted to talk about in the open. That other kid was flat out ignoring it.
She settled for a nervous smile. "Must be well enough if you're cooking, eh."
[Damon/Chris]
Date: 2007-03-03 02:34 pm (UTC)(Starting to feel more and more like I was a regular jackass though,) Chris thought sadly. Amnesia was evidently a blessing in disguise: he could do right about the situation. A quick glance at the sleeping boy in his arms and Aaron's hot blond mother made him wonder, (Why wouldn't I have wanted to anyway?)
"I rested up for a bit," the Brit hottie explained. "Then I got hungry."
/And decided it was probably a good idea to stop reading the erotic memoirs in my journal./
Chris's attention jerked to her, and somehow he didn't gape. The flurry of mortification and humiliation that came from her coupled with her dampened down almost-disappearance from his head told him that it hadn't been intended for him – and from the way she squirmed and found utter fascination with the measuring of pancake mix – she was well aware of the surprise and bewilderment and embarrassment coming from the kid as well.
(That was way more information than I ever wanted about a complete stranger,) Chris decided. (Actually that was probably way more information than I would ever want about a good friend either.)
"Did you learn his name yet? The baby, I mean?" Ami asked. She looked directly at Claire, and the words came so quickly that Chris had only just sorted them out past her accent by the time his wife/girlfriend answered.
"Aaron," Claire nodded. "His name is Aaron. Um, Daniel has a book, right?"
Confusion pulsed from Claire, and Chris didn't doubt she wondered what precipitated Ami's sudden embarrassment that she worked so desperately to cover up. Chris nodded, "Yeah, Daniel has a manifest of some sort. It lists all the people who survived the plane crash. You did know about the plane crash right?"
The last question was asked to the room at large, and he politely didn't try to meet Ami's eyes. How they survived before the amnesia with the three of them – the kid included – clearly privy to thoughts and emotions, Chris would never guess.
OOC: Overheard
Date: 2007-03-03 02:36 pm (UTC)[Scott]
Date: 2007-03-03 03:59 pm (UTC)Scott was still inwardly grinning from Ami calling him "Love" when *that* thought popped into his head. Mortification -- Ami's mortification -- flooded across their link. Scott blushed from head to toe from her reaction and his traitorous imagination wondering what said memoirs entailed. ('Cause it was us. Had to be. She said what she'd learned was "very good.")
Ami's rambling gave Scott the time he needed to wrench his full-body blush under control. Only half-listening to the conversation going on around him, he set the four frying pans he'd found on the stove and waited impatiently for
the next opportunity to jump AmiAmi to finish mixing the batter.[George/"Millie"]
Date: 2007-03-03 09:28 pm (UTC)"Plane crash?" Millie asked. "Plane crash!? Are you shitting me?"
Red turned to look at her. "...no," he said after a moment. "I'm not. Daniel found a notebook he'd been keeping. So did Chloe--"
"Who?"
"The--" Red said, then seemed to think better of it. (Hot blonde?) Millie wondered. (Was that what you were gonna say?) She grinned, thinking that with his wife or girlfriend standing right there, he was probably wise not to say it.
"The blonde girl you came in here with," Red said instead. "She found her passport and a journal. Both notebooks talk about a plane crash, so I guess it's probably true."
"Huh," Millie said. (A plane crash? How do you forget a plane crash? Especially--given how many of them were wandering around in here--a big plane crash.)
[Mayday]
Date: 2007-03-03 10:31 pm (UTC)Millie was rolling her eyes as May came back to the sink, grabbing a towel to dry - she really didn't care either way. "Kind of a lost cause," Millie observed.
"Can't blame a girl for trying." May shrugged. "And hey, when one or the other gets the crap beat out of them I get extra rights to annoy them with the 'I told you so' routine."
She frowned, thinking of something else. "Who else has found their passports? I think I found my carry-on - it had my wallet, state ID, school ID, cellphone, all that stuff, but no passport. It seems kinda weird that I'd still have all that but no passport."
[George/"Millie"]
Date: 2007-03-03 10:47 pm (UTC)The sink was full of sudsy water now. Millie placed several glasses in the water and picked up the scrub brush. She shrugged. "Maybe you lost it. I mean, if we were in a plane crash...just because you have most of your stuff doesn't mean you couldn't lose some of it. How would you know?"
[Ami]
Date: 2007-03-04 05:20 am (UTC)At least *that* relieved her of her mortification and embarrassment of earlier.
"Not like Daniel and Chloe, whoever the hell that is, are the only people who mentioned a notebook and a plane crash," Ami grumbled under her breath as she stalked over to the stove with the large bowl of pancake batter.
(What the bleeding hell was I doing? Talking to keep my brain cells firing?)
[George/"Millie"]
Date: 2007-03-04 06:06 am (UTC)"Whoa," Millie said. She wondered for a moment if she were having a psychic moment. But--no, it was just something she knew somehow had been said to her. Repeatedly, she suspected.
"What?" May asked.
"...nothing," Millie said. She didn't really want to admit that she felt like she'd been momentarily possessed by somebody really uptight about the difference between silverware and flatware.
Embarrassed, Millie turned her attention on the black woman standing not far away ruthlessly beating a bowlful of batter and muttering to herself. "And you! Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?"
[Ami, Damon/Chris]
Date: 2007-03-04 04:31 pm (UTC)"Huh?" Millie asked.
"Hmm," Ami turned to Scott and the stove, focusing on preparing the pancakes. "I think that someone wasn't being a very good listener."
"How'd you know all that? From what she," Chris indicated Millie, "said, I didn't think Chloe talked to you guys."
Ami gave a disinterested shrug. "Maybe Daniel and Chloe weren't the only ones with journals or who were disseminating information."
[Scott] Peacemaker
From:[George/"Millie"] Alone in her head...probably.
From:OOC
Date: 2007-03-04 01:31 am (UTC)Re: OOC
Date: 2007-03-04 02:08 am (UTC)OOC redirect
Date: 2007-03-03 07:04 pm (UTC)