[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}
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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?”
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[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
Date: 2007-03-04 05:00 pm (UTC)[George/"Millie"] Alone in her head...probably.
Date: 2007-03-04 08:48 pm (UTC)"Fine," Millie said under her breath. She went back to washing dishes with more force--and splashing--than was strictly necessary. She kept up a running commentary inside her head, though.
It was only when she'd run down that occurred to Millie that Ami was one of the psychics. Maybe she could hear what Millie was thinking! A glance at Ami didn't prove anything one way or the other, though she wasn't looking daggers at Millie so maybe not. Nonetheless, Millie imagined a great big bright KEEP OUT! sign.
(Boy, living with mind readers would suck...)
OOC: FYI to the psychics--Millie is worrying unnecessarily. Nobody can read her mind, or Daisy's. They're dead, after all. Well, undead, but still....
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)