ext_12572: (Ash Alarmed)
ext_12572 ([identity profile] sinanju.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] crossing_lostrp2007-05-22 12:02 am

[GAME EVENT] CAUSE AND EFFECT

Who: Ash
Where:
When: Day 29, (approx. 4 to 6 a.m.)
Invited: ALL PLAY
Status: Complete

Edited to add: Don't sweat the details of how your characters switched bodies. I added the "touching or close by" requirement to give people an out if they didn't want to have their hharacters swap places. Now I'm revoking it. If you want to join in, forget that. It's simply random--if you and another player want to join the party, just do it. Doesn't matter how close you were or weren't.



Ash closed the double doors of the smaller kitchen/cafeteria and locked them. The last thing he needed was an interruption in the middle of this project. He turned to survey the room, arms akimbo while he thought about what he had to do. "Okay," he said to himself, "first things first. Clear the floor."

Pushing all but one of the tables against the walls and stacking the chairs on them took only a few minutes. Ash laid the instructions on the remaining table and pressed it flat. It was very badly written, but he'd looked it over several times and he was confident that he could manage it. "How hard could it be?" he muttered to himself.

He began assembling all the materials he needed on the table next to the instructions. A glass, a pitcher of water, a box of Dharma brand birthday candles. (The instructions called for six black candles, but these would have to do.) A box of salt, a big black marker, and various other esoteric items. And...coffee, which he'd brewed a few minutes earlier.

But first...Ash picked up the marker in one hand and the instructions in the other. Working slowly and methodically at first, Ash began drawing runes onto the edge of the tabletop. It took a lot of attention. His hand began to cramp after a while. By the time he was done, the figures were considerably less precise than when he'd begun.

"Eh, good enough," Ash decided.

He capped the marker and tossed it away. Then Ash walked over to the stove, poured coffee into a large bowl and carried it to the table. He placed the bowl in the center of the table. Next came the salt. Ash opened the pouring spout on the cannister and began walking around the table, pouring out the salt in a circle, making sure that he was inside it when he completed the circle. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he closed the circle.

"Hrmm, hmmm," Ash muttered, looking over the instructions. "Ah--right, the candles." Ash lit the candles one by one, carefully turning them as wax melted, dripping it onto the tabletop until there was enough to hold each candle upright. Then it was time for the heavy lifting.

Ash picked up a small photograph. He'd gotten it from Daisy, from the wallet of someone who had died in the crash of Oceanic Flight 815. He glanced at the instructions and recited the incantation. "Pro os, statua unus porro lost ut memoria," Ash said, tearing it into bits and dropping the pieces into the coffee.

"Pro auditurus esse, sanus carmen sung ut a parvulus porro.". Ash leaned forward and, feeling very foolish, sang a few bars of a lullaby.

"Pro tactus, sentio parvulus thesaurus,". Ash dropped a pinch of stuffing from a well-worn stuffed animal into the coffee. "Pro nidor, scaena matris diligo." Ash dusted the coffee with baby powder. "Pro sapor, flavor parvulus iucunditas," Ash said, dropping a small piece of chocolate into the coffee.

Ash picked up one of the candles. He held it up over the coffee and recited another incantation. "Hail ut phasmatis of incendia quod unda, terra quod aer! Unbind alica ut redimio nostrum monumentum!" Ash plunged the burning tip of the candle into the brew. The flame hissed and went out. Ash felt some of his strength fade at the same time that a feeling of pressure became noticeable all over his skin.

Ash picked up a second candle and repeated the incantation, quenching the flame in the coffee. The sensation of pressure, of gathering power became more distinct. He did it a third time, and a fourth. By the time he picked up the fifth and final candle, he felt light-headed. It was hard to breathe, the power gathered around him inside the circle of salt tangible and nearly irresistible. Ash recited the incantation and plunged the candle into the coffee.

The power, wound tighter and tighter with each repetition, exploded outward. Ash had a moment to wonder if perhaps he'd done something wrong after all as he was picked up bodily and flung backwards into the stacked chairs and tables behind him. It was very painful, as was crashing to the floor and having the table and chairs fall on top of him. (Maybe,) Ash thought, (he should just give up spellcasting. It never seemed to work out right--)

"It worked!" Ash crowed. "I remember!"

* * *

George's dreams were jumbled, confused--and confusing. She dreamed of her family; of Rube, Roxy, Mason and Daisy; of Dolores and Happy Time. She also dreamed of alien worlds, alien skies, battles and espionage and seduction. She woke slowly, dreams shading into wakefulness. She was lying on her back, one arm wrapped around someone who lay cuddled up with her head on George's shoulder.

Thinking about her dreams, George realized with a sudden shock that she remembered! She knew who all those people were. She knew who she was--and where she was, and how she'd gotten here, events of the last few weeks. All of it! Her eyes popped open, sleepiness banished by excitement. She struggled up to a sitting position--

--and screamed, waking the others. Beside her, Faith, Chloe and George jerked awake. Faith flung herself upright and then tumbled out of bed to sprawl on the floor. Chloe looked around, surprise--and alarm--written on her face. "What's going on? I feel...weak."

And George.... George watched herself--watched her body--sit up and meet her eyes with a crooked smile that just didn't look like it belonged on her face. "Well, this is new," she said, and her voice didn't sound right at all--nothing like George's voice sounded to herself.

George looked down at herself, at the masculine torso. She swallowed heavily and tentatively reached under the covers. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." She found what she'd expected--feared--to find. A penis. "Son of a bitch!"

Yes, boys and girls, it's official. The mass amnesia is over. Everyone has his or her memory back, completely intact. On the other hand...some of you will find yourselves in bodies that are not your own. If your character was touching--or merely in close proximity to--someone else, you will find yourself in someone else's body.

Unlike the mass amnesia, we're not making this universal. If you want to swap around your PCs, go for it. Establish that they were touching or very close at the right (wrong) time. If you want to swap your characters with someone else's, and they're willing to play along, make it so. If, on the other hand, you want to sit back and laugh at other characters' misfortunes, that's okay too.

Have fun with it. It will eventually be reversed....

[identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Jack woke up momentarily confused. He knew what his body felt like. He was pretty attuned to it. This was NOT his body. He sat up and looked over at himself He felt breasts sway. Ooooh.

"Well this is new." He gave a half grin. Panic wouldn't solve anything, and hey, how many people got to switch genders? Without surgery that was.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." His body reached down to test himself out. Who was in there? "Son of a bitch!"

"Hey, careful with the equipment! And it's not anything to complain about. Got lots of compliments on that. Hey! I remember " Jack looked down at his new breasts. Angle was different, but they looked like George's. He'd gotten well acquainted with all three pairs last night.

"Cool." He bounced up and down on the bed to watch them jiggle. That felt wierd. Bouncy.

[Scott] Gotta go

[identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Scott really didn't want to get up. Besides the sheer joy of being tangled in bed with Ami, he hadn't gotten enough sleep. (Definitely need to sleep in,) he thought muzzily, grinning from all of the ways they'd enjoyed each other.

No matter how tired Scott felt, his full bladder wouldn't take no for an answer. So he climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, and squinted his way to the men's room.

House limped through the door with the air of his cane when Scott was washing his hands. The older man looked like death warmed over, which actually was an improvement from earlier.

Scott gave the doctor a polite smile. House grunted something in reply. Indifferent, Scott took a step toward the door. As his foot descended time slowed. Goosebumps raised, and alarm surged from Ami. His mind fogged, then cleared just as suddenly, but the room had moved impossibly fast and Ami was gone but not like before -- (I remember!) -- but her absence was unsettling and he felt wrung out and worn and wrong and the ground must have tilted because his right leg was buckling.

Time resumed. Scott yelped as he tumbled to the tile floor, joints creaking, stomach roiling, and points of contact throbbing. Even before his voice registered as wrong, Scott knew that something horribly amiss.

As Scott tried to gather himself physically and mentally, movement close by caught his attention.

[House] With the good comes the... good?

[identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
The worst part of finding the solace of sleep from a bottle is that it demands some sort of payment at some point. The payment exacted from cheap booze is in the form of a short walk/hop to the men's room, at the time perscribed by the content and there are none that can resist its call.

'Looking like death warmed over'... it really was an improvement over what House had looked like for the last few days. The DTs were almost over, inexplicable as they were in his memory loss, though he had found the capsule bottles... which explained a great deal. Entering the men's room, the man moved slowly, having refamiliarized himself with cane and the best way to walk with it. Right hand, right leg.

Entering the bathroom, he nodded and grunted an early morning greeting to the other there. Not much for conversation, really. Not this early, not in the bathroom...

As if from an epiphany from above, the knowledge of his life came crashing back, filling his head, his ears, his eyes as a giant-flashback, or rather, flash-forward, ending up with that very moment that he hit the floor. Or... that other person who hit the floor. Strange, he'd felt himself falling, but after a split second, Dr. Gregory House, Head of Diagnostic Medicine for the Princeton/Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, discovered he was still on his feet.

But... he wasn't on his feet. Or... he was, but he wasn't...

"What the hell---?"

It's All Coming Back

[identity profile] magicalelf.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)
John bolted up from the cot he was sleeping on with a gasp, flailing against the thin blanket that had been covering him. There had been someone in their house, someone had come in, managing to bypass all the security he and Aeryn had come up with. John had awoken from sleep, the cold sense that something wasn't right.

He sat on the cot, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, his heart racing in his chest. "Oh my God," he whispered, his voice raspy with horror and realization. He remembered. He remembered everything.

"Aeryn!" he shouted, scrambling from the cot, fighting with the blanket and tossing it aside in a fit of annoyance. He yanked the bedroom door open and ran out into the hallway, squinting a little in the harsh glare of the hallway lights. "Aeryn!" he shouted again, hoping she was nearby and could hear him, he had no idea what room she was sleeping in. His feet thudded dully against the bare floor, cold against the soles of his feet.

Their daughter was missing, that's why they'd been out, that's how they'd wound up here. They'd been looking for their kidnapped daughter.

"Aeryn!"

[Scott] I hate this freakin' island.

[identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"What the hell---?" Scott heard himself say. Only he hadn't uttered the words.

Adrenaline swept his various aches and pains away. Scott gaped up at himself from the bathroom floor as what had happened sunk in. Eventually words tumbled from his mouth. "It's not supposed to be this way."

Scott watched his face twist into a smirk. "Oh? How is it supposed to be?" The smirk morphed into a grin as House flexed *his* limbs.

(Ami,) Scott thought. (We'd dreamed that this... AMI!) Although Scott called as loudly as he could there was no reply. Panic rose from the silence, as well as how unfamiliar and vacant House's body felt. He'd instinctively 'checked' for sprains or fractures from the fall, but that sense was gone. All that remained was pain, nausea, and silence.

(Ami. What if...?) Concern for his wife helped Scott break through panic and physical discomfort. Ignorning how his borrowed body complained, Scott hauled himself to his feet with the help of a nearby sink and House's cane. He glared at the far-too-happy House. "Tell me how to walk with this thing."

[Sam Tyler] Sensory overload (tag River)

[identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Sam dreamt of steak. A barely cooked steak, chips, and a pint at the pub. He hoped they'd have his favorite lager on tap. It depended on what year it was when he woke up.

Minds stirred. The hive was upset, especially the young queen he watched over. Sam snapped awake, leaping to his feet. The concrete floor was clammy under his bare feet, the air dank, the walls too close. Sam's claws curled instinctively. Those on his feet scored the hard floor.

(Claws?)

Sam blinked down at his sinewy, toned frame. Even with rumpled clothing covering most of it, it wasn't his. The scream that escaped him, especially its ragged, primal edge, definitely wasn't his.

(Escape. Protect. Hunt.)

Sam lunged for the door, crushing the metal shell like tin foil. The ease with which he destroyed it brought him to a halt. He stared at the ruined metal, shaking. Trembling hands. Talon-tipped fingers.

"Sam," the girl-child said from the far side of the room. She was scared, but sympathetic. Sam *felt* it. "Not Ripley. Sam."

[Isabel]

[identity profile] nohatmatt.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
((OOC: Since this happens before Alia's day 29 thread, I hereby retcon it out of existence. It never happened.))

Isabel stumbled away from the looming trees in the darkness, making her way further and further... away. Away. Escape. Hide.

The echoes of the dreams she'd touched still haunted her.

Another clearing showed her the stars again. She paused, finding comfort in their presence. Unreachable, but calm and safe. Part of her came from them.

As she had done so many times, she scanned the sky, looking for the star which was hers, the world where she'd been Vilandra, the world Kevar still ruled.

She blinked. Kevar? How did she...

The rest of her memories came back in that moment, a rush which overwhelmed her. When awareness returned from the detailed reliving of two entire lives, she found herself sprawled on the ground, her body aching from the impact with it. She got to her feet unsteadily, tested everything. It all seemed to work. Absently she smoothed her hair and clothes, purging the dirt until she was immaculately presented again.

She remembered arriving on the island, remembered Roswell, remembered Max and Michael, remembered Tess, Liz, Maria, Alex - a stab of pain as his face swam through her mind. Jesse, her husband, had been on the boat in the storm. Did he still live? The pain of not knowing was back like it had never been.

Was it just her? She looked around. Time to get back to the bunker.

But there were more memories she hadn't had before. She remembered being Vilandra, remembered having mastery of her powers, swimming in the gloopy ocean, and the final decision which had led her to betray her brother and her people and give the planet over to Kevar and ultimately led her to be reborn here in human form.

It still hurt, but she now knew she had made the right decision then. She'd saved a lot of lives. Kevar had betrayed her, of course, but she'd saved lives.

And with Vilandra's memories came all her powers, the potential Nasedo had talked about but never properly taught them, even Tess. Something they had to discover for themselves, perhaps. Even as she understood some of the processes which had generated her - an advanced human more than an alien hybrid - she realised more of her potential.

Without further hesitation, she opened her mind and quickly located the minds of the people in the bunker. Too far to tell if they were asleep or awake, but they were there, and she set out toward it as surely as if it had been a pillar of flame across open desert.

[tag Sam and River]

[identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com 2007-05-22 11:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Molly was feeling nervous. She felt something, some sort of pressure building, making her skin feel tight, and something in the back of her mind recoil, but she couldn't name it.

She'd taken to pacing the halls to ease the rising need to push the feeling away.

Passing the room Ripley, River and Ash shared she heard River call out.

Opening the door a bit she could make out the young woman thrashing on her bed, making whimpers, pleading with someone unseen. Ripley appeared to be twitching a bit as well, but she wasn't having the nightmare River appeared to be.

Padding across the room she touched River's shoulder and shook her. "Wake up, it's a nightmare." Molly whispered.

Suddenly she found herself slammed into the floor with a half awake River straddling her, one hand around her throat and the other gripping her wrist painfully.

Molly was instantly terrified. Note to self, she thought, no waking up slightly insane girl who can kick Other ass.

Just as quickly Molly felt her perceptions shift. The room jumped and she found herself looking down at her own face. Her own hand at the throat of her body. She had to be dreaming!

She left go with a squeek, as everything came rushing in. EVERYTHING. Fear and confusion and thoughts not her own filling her head with more voices than she could manage all at once.

This was happening all over the bunker, people in the wrong bodies reacting all at once. Molly fell back on her/River's posterior and tried to pull herself into a corner, a primitive attempt to make the rush of feelings and outside thoughts just STOP.

Then Ripley jumped up, full of fear and anger. But it wasn't Ripley's thoughts coming at her from up close. It was Sam's, the British Cop.

"Sam... Not Ripley, Sam." Molly muttered even as she pressed her hands over her ears as if it would muffle the voices.

[House] Bedside manner is still hell

[identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
"Whoa... Now that's a rush!" The smirk remained on Scott's face, even as he shook his head in the attempt to make some semblance of sense. The smirk moved easily into a grin as he took a long look at himself in the mirror before turning slowly to regard the grizzled, older form only now on his feet. A soft whistle escaped the doctor in ... now younger, different form and he shrugged.

"Depends. I used the cane in my right hand. Gave me a hell of an ache in the shoulder, and all the PTs told me I was doing it wrong. Supposed to be in my left hand. But, never got the hang of it. Sooo... I guess you're on your own on that one."

He sounded so broken up about that... no. Really. Sympathetic, even.

Pressing his lips together, Scott's body shrugged. "Good luck with that." A tentative step is taken towards the door before he stops once more, an exclamation sounding. "Good god. I can get some speed out of these babies! Think I'll go jogging. You don't mind, do you? Little fresh air in the morning?"

[Scott] Must... restrain... cane... of... death...

[identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Scott's hand tightened on the cane as the insufferable bastard managed to be even more insufferable. "Do I mind? OF COURSE I MIND!" Pain lanced through Scott's head, forcing him to quiet. He switched the cane to his (House's) left hand as the headache subsided. "Come with me. We're checking on Ami, then seeing if anyone else is affected."

Scott planted the cane a short distance ahead of his left foot, shifted his weight to that side, then half-lifted/half-dragged his/House's weak right leg forward. After centering himself he took a step with his left leg, then began the process again. It was ridiculously tiring.

[House] Look ma, no cane!

[identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 02:43 pm (UTC)(link)
House knew the answer to his question long before he asked. Psychic and all... though it was more a rhetorical question anyway. He wasn't looking for permission, or even approval... and opening the door, he stepped through lightly, getting used to the ease quickly. "I'll get someone to get a wheelchair for you. Easier when it's outside the bathroom."

Once through the door, and closing it behind him, Greg couldn't resist a final jab, and he leaned up against it, and his voice rose to carry. "Oh... and hope you have a high tolerance for pain. The leg'll be acting up soon, if it hasn't already. The keys to the medicine cabinet are in the bedstand." See how much the pain is in 'his head', and how much is real; Particularly after Scott gets a good look at the damage-ravaged musculature.

[Sam Tyler] Meep. (tag Molly, River)

[identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
The child's fear and pain made Sam put his anxiety aside. He faced her (River), curled into a fetal position in the corner of the room. The forest-woman (Molly) was there, too. Although the redhead's expression was unreadable, fear tinged her mossy scent.

"It's going to be okay," Sam said. His voice was wrong, but at least his accent was there. He padded toward the girls silently. Sam wasn't worried about startling River. Between her post-amnesia actions -- (And how the hell did we get our memories back?) -- and what the others had said when he'd arrived at the bunker, the girl was frighteningly psychic. She'd 'hear' him coming.

Sam reached a hand toward each of the young women, shuddering again at the sight of his borrowed claws. "You're right, River. It's Sam. I don't know how, but..."

The air conditioning switched on, pulsing dank air from the vents. Sam wrinkled his nose until Molly's scent carried to him. She smelled of freshly turned earth, wildflowers, and sunlight. Before he realized it he'd bent over her, inhaling deeply. It was all he could do to resist the urge to roll around on top of her.

"Sam!" River yelped.

Sam shook himself, straightened, and took several steps back. "Right." He ignored how shaky his too-high voice was. "Now, then. The amnesia's gone. I remember everything. Do you?"

[Aeryn]

[identity profile] tweets.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Sleep had returned slowly to Aeryn as she lay on the hard ground of the canteen. She tossed and turned in her slumber as memories returned, borne of dreams that had plagued her.

Eventually, she rose, straightening her hair and gathering it behind her neck before releasing it. Sighing, she stood and it was then that she heard John's frantic screams.

And then the full-force of her memories hit her and she sagged to her knees. Their son, D'argo had been left in the tender care of Rygel while John and Aeryn had gone in search of their daughter, Pa'u. She whimpered as a tear slid down her cheek. "Nooo." she groaned softly, cradling her stomach as the pain of the loss struck her an almost physical blow.

[John]

[identity profile] magicalelf.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
OOC: Ok, deleted my post so I think that we're both now on the same page.


John kept running down the quiet corridor, feet thudding, voice bouncing off the concrete walls. "Aeryn, dammit!" He was getting ready to start banging on doors until he found her. They had to get off this damned island, they couldn't afford to stay here a moment longer, not when they could be out looking for Pa'u. If he was able to remember, then no doubt she was as well, and he didn't know how she would cope with the sudden memories.

Realizing Pa'u had been taken had been horrible enough the first time.

"Aeryn Sun-Crichton, where the hell are you?"

[McKay] Enter Radek?

[identity profile] lost-mckay.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
At least a couple hours of sleep, McKay agreed that perhaps it might be a little safer going that mile during daylight hours. He'd agreed as well that it'd also probably be easier to convince someone to come along if it -wasn't- 2 am.

After putting what few experiments 'to bed', the scientist, too, put himself to bed. He fell asleep quickly, tired to the point where even his rapid thoughts weren't enough to cause him to lie awake and ponder the missing theory that would tie the micro and macro worlds together...

The 'eureka' moment, remarkably, came with no little relief. Sleeping through the_event itself, it wasn't until the sun begins to creep up it it's course that he willed himself back to consciousness. He... remembered! Meredith Rodney McKay, PhD... works for the SGC/IOA on Atlantis, is the lead researcher, and-and-and...

Sitting up, he dug at his eyes, discovering, upon reopening them, that the world was blurry. Strange... Digging at his eyes again, he blinked, and tried to focus. Still a 'no-go'. He looked around the room and shook his head. Okay. Not a problem. Time to get up, get a cup of coffee, get to the lab... completely unaware that he'd need the glasses that were set on the side of the bed as he's not quite himself.

[Aeryn]

[identity profile] tweets.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
John's frantic calls had started to chip their way through her veneer of pain. "John!" she called, her voice thick with the pain of loss. "In here."

But that was all she could manage. She felt sick, a dread feeling of agony creeping it's way up her throat. Clenching her hands tightly, she tried to concentrate on the physical pain, trying to drive away the nausea that assaiiled her. Blood started to trickle through her fingers, but it wasn't enough to erradicate that sense of absolute loss.

Re: [Aeryn]

[identity profile] magicalelf.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
John whirled around at the sound of her distant voice, the canteen. He ran in the direction he had heard it coming from and threw open the door. After a moment he spotted her sitting in a distant corner, hunched over herself. "Aeryn ...."

He ran toward her, dropping to his knees beside her and wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Okay ... I'm here, I'm here ... " he rocked her a little, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease the pain of the loss, but hoping that his presence would help her cope with it a little. "Deep breath ... deep breath, one second at a time. Take it one second at a time. We remember, that's the important thing. We remember"

[Radek]

[identity profile] tweets.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Satisfied that Rodney was a good lab-companion, Radek had almost gleefully helped to tidy up the last work they'd been working on. So, by the time he made his way to Rodney's room (there was no point in trudging outside to sleep under the tent when Rodney had a spare space!) he'd all but collapsed onto the matress and it was only habit that had allowed him to remove the heavy glasses and carefully place them on the bedside.

The dreams that had come didn't awaken him, nor did the returning memories. In his sleep, he couldn't help but smile as the face of Elizabeth Weir emerged from a mist of dream. "Wake up, Radek" she called, reaching out to gently caress his face. "You need to wake up."

He suddenly became aware of the tall figure stumbling around next to him and he looked up, expecting his vision to be blurry. Except it wasn't.

It was the strangest feeling, watching as he stood, unsteadily, then moved towards the door. Then, another thought occured to him. Either this was an out of body experience, or...

Reaching up, he was dismayed to feel bald patches, thinning widows peaks, very little hair. "Rodney?!" he said, a surge of panic colouring his face. "Please tell me I'm still dreaming?"

[Aeryn]

[identity profile] tweets.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"She's gone, John..." the whisper emerged finally as she let him cradle her. "Pa'u was taken and we couldn't stop it!"

She raised a tear-streaked face to him, seeing that his own face was wet with the same pain that she felt. "And we can't get off this frelling island!"

[Jack] Kiss it make it better

[identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 04:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"No, it's just right. I know EXACTLY what that body likes." Jack changed his grip to brush his fingers up the underside of his... her erection. "I know exactly what drives it wild. And I bet you have a damn good idea about this body."

Sex was the natural conclusion. Not only because it was a lovely distraction, but because he couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what it felt like for a woman... plus, he was just narcissistic enough to know what it was like with his own body.

He wasn't panicking. Because the memory loss was temporary. There was no reason to assume this wouldn't be as well.

Just then Faith fell of the bed. From the conversation, it seemed he and George weren't the only one's to switch.

[Molly] Memories and madness[tag River and Sam]

[identity profile] purplerhino.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Molly heard Sam's question on Ripley's voice. The outside voice was louder, a different input, something to grasp hold of amidst all the rest. Memory. Yes, she remembered her mother, her father's death... her missing daughter opening a void of mental agony... her hand on the switch that destroyed her world, every one of her race, her family, all burned... finding her son, the smell of ozone from the gun mixing with the copper of blood,... the people dragging her from her cell-come-room and strapping her down, needles everywhere, being half aware as they cut and sliced into her brain, her soul... he feel of cool skin against hers, the slide of sweat and fullness of heat...

Molly opened her mouth in a silent scream. She was remembering, but it wasn't all hers. She didn't want this, it hurt to all come pouring in.

And atop it all, she could feel it. Her body was dying. She felt it, whithering by milimeters. Not yet full adult, but time was pressing in on her skin, her organs. There was no comfort in the thrum of magic within. She was cut off from it. It was an emptiness the rest pouring in couldn't even begin to fill.

Breathe. She had to concentrate on breathing. She looked, wild eyed, at her own face. Her own eyes, full of wonder, looked back.

Molly looked at Ripley. "Keep the words coming, Sam. Let me hold on to them. I'm drowning. Make it stop with your voice."

Turning her eyes back to her own face she felt the tears spilling over. "How do you stand it? How do you make it stop? It's washing me away, filling my head until I'm pushed out."

[John]

[identity profile] magicalelf.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 05:11 pm (UTC)(link)
John cupped her face, fingers brushing stray strands of dark hair away from her eyes. "I know ..." he whispered, "I know ... we were looking for her and somehow ended up here ..." he closed his eyes a moment, remembering all-too-clearly the almost overwhelming sense of panic that had consumed him when they'd realized Pa'u was gone.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, reaching suddenly into the pockets of the pants he was wearing and drawing out a crumbled and singed picture of their daughter. "I found this in the wreck of the shuttle when I went back ..." he handed it to her, it would be something for her to hold on to.

"And we'll get off," he told her firmly. "We'll get off if I have to kill birds and weave their feathers together and fly us off, but I swear to you, Aeryn. We'll get off this place and find her"

OOC: Confuzzled

[identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com 2007-05-23 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm confuzzled. Is Aeryn swapping into Jon (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/141393.html?thread=4368721#t4368721)?

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