[Shannon] Sorry, Charlie....
Jun. 21st, 2007 06:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sinanju.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
crossing_lostrpWho: Shannon-in-Charlie
When: Day 29, 1 p.m. (approx.)
Where: The Storage Room
Invited: Shannon/Charlie, a Very Special Guest Star, anyone else
Status: Complete
Shannon reeled away from Soldier Boy and ducked around a corner. Her vision blurred, signaling that tears were imminent. As if she didn't already know that. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears and she was trembling with the need to lash out.
She wanted to scream and cry and...hit something. Or someone. Maybe anyone. No, not anyone--she wanted to strike back at the source of all her pain, but she couldn't. It was the island. "I hate this fucking island!" she said aloud, uncaring of who might or might not be listening. "I fucking hate it!"
'Hate' was really an inadequate word for the depth of Shannon's loathing. She curled her fingers, wanting so badly to wrap them around the throat of someone she could make pay for all the indignities she'd suffered since buying a ticket for Flight 815. From the day they'd crashed on this god forsaken rock her life had been hell--a living hell--in every conceivable way.
For a month now she'd been living in a goddamned grass hut like some bare-breasted third world native in one of Boone's National Geographics. Washing in a creek, using whatever scraps of soap they could salvage from the plane. Wearing cast-off clothes scavenged from the dead. Using a fly-infested, stench-filled primitive latrine that made a Porta-Potty look like the Hilton. Shannon shuddered at the thought.
And everyone hated her. She knew it, though she'd never admitted it. She hadn't missed all the sidelong glances and rolled eyes when she complained--as if they never did! The sadistic glee she sensed when she unwillingly joined in to wash dishes or clothing, or cook, or clean fish. Some few had had the gall to laugh at her! As if she should have known how to do these things!
Losing her memory had almost been a blessing. She might not have known who she was, but at least they were all in the same boat. But that was over and now--now she was trapped in the body of this drug-addled loser! And he was using hers like a goddamned playground! Shannon stopped abruptly and pounded the wall once with her fist.
She could feel a crying jag coming on and she wanted privacy. If Charlie had a room anywhere in this building, she had no idea where. So she ducked through the door marked Storage, slamming it behind her and leaning against it. The storage room was pitch black and cool. There was a light switch somewhere, she was certain but she didn't care. She slid down the door to huddle on the floor and let the tears come.
Shannon wasn't sure how long she cried, but it wasn't long. She paused in mid-sniffle and raised her head, though she still couldn't see shit. The room felt colder suddenly, or maybe it was just a chill. She felt an odd prickling along her arms, realizing only slowly that it was the hairs--hairs on her arms!--standing up. As were the hairs on the back of her--Charlie's--neck.
Shannon felt the first stirrings of fear then. She sensed that she wasn't alone any longer. But she was leaning against the only door. Had someone already been in here? Had they been listening and silently enjoying the sound of her misery?
"Is someone there?" Shannon asked.
No reply. But she sensed that she was the focus of someone's undivided attention. She swallowed hard with a suddenly dry throat. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. "Who's there?" she asked, struggingling awkwardly to get her feet under her and stand up. The silent attention was scaring her now. She wanted to find the light switch and see which asshole was scaring her.
Shannon laid her hand against the wall and slid her arm upward, feeling for the switch--and flinched at the sharp tug she felt on he wrist. Then shrieked as the pain followed. She clutched her injured arm to her chest and gasped in surprise at the hot, salty splash of blood against her mouth and chin, blood that pumped from the raw stump of her wrist.
Her next scream tore her throat as red hot blades slashed across her belly, shredding her flesh. The coppery tang of blood mixed with the stink of shit filled the air. Hot liquid poured down across her bare legs and Shannon knew in a moment of crystalline clarity that she was bleeding out. She felt it when the mass of her intestines slithered out of her abdominal cavity and puddled on the floor at her feet. Then the claws and teeth were at her again, buffeting her and knocking her to the floor, where they tore at her with impossible speed and ferocity.
After the first few moments of stunned shock, Shannon tried to defend herself but there was nothing to strike at, nothing to push away. Only the teeth and claws were real, and only when they scored her flesh, raked at her, worried chunks of meat from her bones.
Shannon screamed and struggled for longer than she imagined possible before she ended.
OOC: Yes, boys and girls, it's a Grue. All anyone will find is a thoroughly dismembered body in a room awash and splattered in blood and gore. No sign of how it got in or out, no footprints, no forensic evidence--other than claw/tooth marks in bone and shredded flesh--of what killed Shannon/Charlie. All will be revealed in due time but for now, it's a locked room mystery with no solution.
When: Day 29, 1 p.m. (approx.)
Where: The Storage Room
Invited: Shannon/Charlie, a Very Special Guest Star, anyone else
Status: Complete
Shannon reeled away from Soldier Boy and ducked around a corner. Her vision blurred, signaling that tears were imminent. As if she didn't already know that. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears and she was trembling with the need to lash out.
She wanted to scream and cry and...hit something. Or someone. Maybe anyone. No, not anyone--she wanted to strike back at the source of all her pain, but she couldn't. It was the island. "I hate this fucking island!" she said aloud, uncaring of who might or might not be listening. "I fucking hate it!"
'Hate' was really an inadequate word for the depth of Shannon's loathing. She curled her fingers, wanting so badly to wrap them around the throat of someone she could make pay for all the indignities she'd suffered since buying a ticket for Flight 815. From the day they'd crashed on this god forsaken rock her life had been hell--a living hell--in every conceivable way.
For a month now she'd been living in a goddamned grass hut like some bare-breasted third world native in one of Boone's National Geographics. Washing in a creek, using whatever scraps of soap they could salvage from the plane. Wearing cast-off clothes scavenged from the dead. Using a fly-infested, stench-filled primitive latrine that made a Porta-Potty look like the Hilton. Shannon shuddered at the thought.
And everyone hated her. She knew it, though she'd never admitted it. She hadn't missed all the sidelong glances and rolled eyes when she complained--as if they never did! The sadistic glee she sensed when she unwillingly joined in to wash dishes or clothing, or cook, or clean fish. Some few had had the gall to laugh at her! As if she should have known how to do these things!
Losing her memory had almost been a blessing. She might not have known who she was, but at least they were all in the same boat. But that was over and now--now she was trapped in the body of this drug-addled loser! And he was using hers like a goddamned playground! Shannon stopped abruptly and pounded the wall once with her fist.
She could feel a crying jag coming on and she wanted privacy. If Charlie had a room anywhere in this building, she had no idea where. So she ducked through the door marked Storage, slamming it behind her and leaning against it. The storage room was pitch black and cool. There was a light switch somewhere, she was certain but she didn't care. She slid down the door to huddle on the floor and let the tears come.
Shannon wasn't sure how long she cried, but it wasn't long. She paused in mid-sniffle and raised her head, though she still couldn't see shit. The room felt colder suddenly, or maybe it was just a chill. She felt an odd prickling along her arms, realizing only slowly that it was the hairs--hairs on her arms!--standing up. As were the hairs on the back of her--Charlie's--neck.
Shannon felt the first stirrings of fear then. She sensed that she wasn't alone any longer. But she was leaning against the only door. Had someone already been in here? Had they been listening and silently enjoying the sound of her misery?
"Is someone there?" Shannon asked.
No reply. But she sensed that she was the focus of someone's undivided attention. She swallowed hard with a suddenly dry throat. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. "Who's there?" she asked, struggingling awkwardly to get her feet under her and stand up. The silent attention was scaring her now. She wanted to find the light switch and see which asshole was scaring her.
Shannon laid her hand against the wall and slid her arm upward, feeling for the switch--and flinched at the sharp tug she felt on he wrist. Then shrieked as the pain followed. She clutched her injured arm to her chest and gasped in surprise at the hot, salty splash of blood against her mouth and chin, blood that pumped from the raw stump of her wrist.
Her next scream tore her throat as red hot blades slashed across her belly, shredding her flesh. The coppery tang of blood mixed with the stink of shit filled the air. Hot liquid poured down across her bare legs and Shannon knew in a moment of crystalline clarity that she was bleeding out. She felt it when the mass of her intestines slithered out of her abdominal cavity and puddled on the floor at her feet. Then the claws and teeth were at her again, buffeting her and knocking her to the floor, where they tore at her with impossible speed and ferocity.
After the first few moments of stunned shock, Shannon tried to defend herself but there was nothing to strike at, nothing to push away. Only the teeth and claws were real, and only when they scored her flesh, raked at her, worried chunks of meat from her bones.
Shannon screamed and struggled for longer than she imagined possible before she ended.
OOC: Yes, boys and girls, it's a Grue. All anyone will find is a thoroughly dismembered body in a room awash and splattered in blood and gore. No sign of how it got in or out, no footprints, no forensic evidence--other than claw/tooth marks in bone and shredded flesh--of what killed Shannon/Charlie. All will be revealed in due time but for now, it's a locked room mystery with no solution.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[George]
Date: 2007-06-25 02:51 am (UTC)After Jack had translated for her, George said, "Sorry, Shannon, but if Charlie was dead, we'd be talking to him. It sucks, but that's how it is."
[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-25 08:35 pm (UTC)Jack reapeated her word for word to George. "I don't think you can put someone back if you pull them out. I'm new to this."
"Great, to add insult to all this, I get shuffled off by an amature. I can't even get qualified death people. This island is hell. We've all died and gone to hell. So then if I'm already dead I can't die again. I want my fucking body back. Now." She actually stomped her foot.
Jack was inappropriately amused, and had to try for his best poker face. He hoped it worked on George.
"Hardly an amature. I've sent off more than a few souls." Of course he unusally did it by bullets, energy blasts, or other assorted weaponry.
[George]
Date: 2007-06-25 09:17 pm (UTC)"Well, can't you take someone else?" George had asked. "An old person, or that homeless guy? I won't tell anyone!"
Betty had thought about it for a moment. "Okay."
"Really?" George asked excitedly.
"No," Betty had said. Bitch.
"It doesn't work that way," George said. "When you're dead, you're...." George hesitated. Something Shannon had said (through Jack) struck a chord. Before she could pin it down, Jack replied to something else Shannon said--something about amateurs.
"Welcome to my world," George told Jack.
For the first time since that morning George was glad to have swapped places with Jack. Letting Jack deal with Shannon was a lot better than having to deal with her personally. "Until she settles down and accepts reality, you get to babysit her. Have fun!"
[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-26 05:32 pm (UTC)"Yes I can," George smirked.
"Hey, right here!" Shannon shouted at the same time, shoving Jack in the shoulder, or George's shoulder, pushing him a bit. It wouldn't have moved him in his own body.
"George..." Jack was almost pleading here.
She was giving him a smug look, a payback look.
Oh. Shit.
"Oh, come on. I was experimenting a little. You would, too. Go ahead. I wouldn't mind. Sam's not even bad looking. You should go for it."
Shannon was loking at him now. "Men! You're all a bunch of disguting pigs. You screwed someone in her body? Jerk. I want another advocate!"
"Great, now she's calling me a jerk. She want's someone else. See, you can't walk away from that." Jack tried.
[George]
Date: 2007-06-26 06:44 pm (UTC)"Besides," George said, "I can't see her or hear her, or frog march her into the light even if I wanted to. So it's your job."
"At least until someone gets us back in the right bodies."
[Aeryn]
Date: 2007-06-26 08:25 pm (UTC)For some reason, the mutual respect she'd forged with Jack the night before made it easier for Aeryn to stand on his side.
She glanced almost sympathetically to John, an unfamiliar expression on her face, but she was really TRYING to do the right thing; as John would put it.
But doing the right thing was FRELLING HARD!
[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-26 08:29 pm (UTC)"She said she's only going into her body. Can you actually, like, toss them into the light.. thing?"
"Not me you can't. I've had enough of this freaking island. Of you people and your weird-ass shit. I am not going to die for Charlie-fucking-Pace. No way. I have a life to live." Shannon ranted.
"Oh shut up." Jack was all for being comforting, for keeping Shannon from seeing the mess back there. But this? "Look at it this way, go where you're supposed to and you won't have to deal with this island or us weird-ass people. And you don't have a life. Not any more. Sorry, it's just a fact, like needing to breathe. Although in your case that may be a bad analogy. Doesn't matter. You are dead. You don't get to come back from that."
Jack felt a tinge of conscience at that little lie. Not many got to come back.
"Besides, if you were able to trade with Charlie... which you CAN'T, you'd be committing murder. I'm pretty sure you don't get the same destination after death if you kill someone just for your own gain."
"How do you know? Have you ever died?" Shannon was not going easily.
If only she knew. "I'm here aren't I?" Not a lie.
"George, have you ever had to deal with this? Or can I really just toss her in?"
[George]
Date: 2007-06-26 09:40 pm (UTC)Aeryn looked tough and carried a sidearm. She could probably kick George's ass. Not that George was intimidated at all. Nosirree. Not her.
Jack was talking to her again, which made a convenient excuse to turn her attention elsewhere. George looked at Jack.
"What? No, I've never run into this before. It's not like people get switched into the wrong bodies in the real world--only on this fucking island."
"And no, you can't force her to move on until she's ready. Do you even see a bright light for her to walk into? No."
George addressed the empty space where she figured Shannon was standing. "You can lurk around here as long as you want, it won't get you anywhere."
[Shannon]
Date: 2007-06-26 09:47 pm (UTC)Most of all, she hated Charlie Pace for being a weasel. For hijacking her lovely body and leaving her with his. And for using her like a goddamned sex toy!
And Jack and George kept telling her it was over. Give it up, give in, face facts! Well, screw that! Her body was alive and well and in the hands of a lecherous little jerk from England. It was his body lying in chunks and pieces in the next room.
"If you won't help me," Shannon found herself shouting at Jack and George, "I'll do it myself! I'll go evict that little bastard myself!"
Jack reached for her. Shannon leaped back, out of reach, then turned and ran up the nearby stairwell. She pawed at the door, but her hands only passed through the latch. Passed through...
Shannon took a deep breath and stepped through the door and into the bright tropical sunlight. Then, before Jack could follow try to restrain her, Shannon ran off.
She'd find the beach camp, find her own body, and force Charlie Pace to give it back! She would. She would. She had to.
EXIT SHANNON
[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-26 10:38 pm (UTC)Jack sighed. "Looks like I suck at being a Reaper. She stormed out of here threatening to stick by her body and wait for this mess to get fixed. She says she isn't going anywhere until she sees if that works."
He looked at George. "No offense, but I'm glad I'm not in your line of work. Can you strangle a ghost?"
[George]
Date: 2007-06-27 12:12 am (UTC)[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-27 12:18 am (UTC)"I don't know... I feel obligated to go back there. But I don't think there's much I can do other than help clean up the mess."
OOC giggling
Date: 2007-06-27 02:29 pm (UTC)How many ghosts do we have now? Screaming Guy, his wife who'd been following Mara around, and now Shannon the Incorporeal Bitch. *snerk*
[Jack]
Date: 2007-06-27 04:37 pm (UTC)Right... Aeryn and John had not yet met Charlie Pace. "He's... not only annoying but creepy. I'm not sure who I'd be rooting for in that fight."
"And thanks George." It wasn't sarcastic. "Even though I apparently screwed that up, I have a whole new respect for what you have to deal with."
"So..." He looked from John to Aeryn and back, "I suppose guard duty it is."
He leaned against the wall, prepared to help divert the curious. Oddly enough, it appeared that his threat to kneecap people who tried to gawk was working.
[Aeryn]
Date: 2007-06-28 07:40 am (UTC)OOC laughter
Date: 2007-06-27 02:22 pm (UTC)LOL!