crossing_lostrp | [Alia] A messenger from the future (Reply)

Who: Alia and Zoey
When: Day 29, mid-morning
Where: Just outside the bunker cafeteria door
Invited: Anyone
Status: Open

'Liz' ascended the stairs to the open clearing just outside the bunker, breathing the air deeply. It was a pleasant morning, although she'd spent an uneasy night, interrupted several times by the almost-speech which kept returning to her perception. The last time she thought she'd seen a flicker of light accompanying it, but was growing practised at ignoring it now. Nobody else could see it. She was, she thought, probably going mad.

The sense that she wasn't the person who looked back at her out of the mirror was stronger than ever, and she had come outside partly to avoid anything reflective. She'd caught a glimpse of her face in the taps while washing her breakfast bowl and spoon and cup, and the sense of dislocation had been jarring.

Out here, though, everything was simpler. Birds sang in the trees, and she heard something scurrying through the undergrowth as she approached the treeline.

All was calm and quiet, and she relaxed against a tree, wondering what to do. Nobody knew anything still, but they would have to go and investigate... something. The crash site, perhaps. Yes. She'd volunteer to go. It'd be good to see somewhere else, talk to some other people, if there were any there and even if they'd also forgotten who they were. Perhaps there'd be some clues there about who she really was.

She was just about to go back into the bunker and tell somebody about this decision when she heard a powered sort of whoosh, like a door sliding open. Turning, she saw a bright rectangle of light. A woman emerged from it, a woman dressed so improbably for the jungle that it didn't take observing her passing directly through a branch lying on the ground to realise that she wasn't really there. Stiletto heels, enormous and garish earrings and tight leather clothes gave her the domineering look of someone you instinctively didn't want to cross.

Their eyes met, and the woman smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, it was a predator's smile of triumph.

"Thames! We've got her!" she called, apparently shouting at the sky. She poked at a small device in her hand, which emitted beeps and squawks in response, then she looked at Liz again.

"Good morning Alia," she said. "It's good to be able to talk to you again."

Liz... Alia... stood speechless. Then, finally.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am Zoey," the woman said. "I am your Observer."

"My... Observer?"

Zoey muttered something rude under her breath.

"It's clear that you're suffering from some severe memory loss," she said.

"Me and everybody else."

"Yes, we know. We've been watching, trying to communicate. We haven't had any success until now."

"The voices I've been hearing?"

"That was me. We had to keep experimenting to find how to project to you again."

"We... who are you? Who am I?"

Zoey sighed.

"There's no point reciting your life history. Hopefully you'll get your memory back, although I must say that it was abnormally scrambled already after you Leaped. Something about this thrice-cursed island, I suppose. In any case. You've seen yourself in the mirror?"

"It's not me I see in the mirror," Alia said.

"Correct. Your instincts still work, at least. Well, some of them. The face you see in the mirror is that of Kate Austen, your host."

"My host?"

"You have temporarily swapped places with her."

"Then she's..."

"She is in a room not fifty metres from where I currently stand."

"And where is that?"

"Where is not as important as when."

"When?"

"You are a time traveller, Alia. You Leap back in time, occupy somebody else's life for a while, and change history."

"To make the world a better place?" That sounded nice. It sounded familiar.

Zoey chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound.

"There's already somebody else doing that," she said. "We are the balance."

"I wreck history?"

"From a certain point of view, so does your counterpart on the other side."

"And who is my counterpart?"

"A very tedious man called Sam Beckett. He invented this technology we use, although it must be said that our version is substantially more useful."

"So... why am I here?"

"A mission was identified. You Leaped onto this island to accomplish a task."

"The task being?"

"I'm not sure I can trust you enough to tell you that," Zoey said. "You don't remember why you need to do what we tell you. Just remember, we're the only people who can bring you home."

"Then why don't you? I'm not going to do anything useful while I can't remember who I am."

"Indeed. We have considered retrieving you and re-educating you, but for the time being, since communication has been re-established, Lothos suggests that you should concentrate on discovering and removing the source of your memory loss." She turned away, back toward the open doorway through which she had arrived. "I'll be back soon. In the mean time, I don't recommend telling anybody about me or yourself."

"Why not? They'd believe me."

"That is precisely the reason. Don't cross me, Alia. You'll regret it."

She stepped through the door, and it whooshed shut, vanishing completely and leaving Alia standing in the clearing wondering if this island could possibly get any stranger.

((OOC: Of course, only people with particularly perceptive minds - or insane people and children - can see or hear Zoey))