[Ami] Day 18: A Plan Forms
Jul. 20th, 2006 11:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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crossing_lostrp[OOC: Yes, that says Day 18. No, it is not a typo. All will become clear. Eventually. Yeah, that's the ticket.]
Forced to remain lying down, Ami eventually lapsed into sleep yet again. There wasn't much else to do in her prison after all. She assumed she was beyond the risk of danger and complications from her spinal procedure when Jacob appeared with Fisher. Jacob wheeled in a hospital tray which, judging from the smells, Ami assumed to be food.
"The prisoner isn't going to be starved, then?" Ami asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as Jacob wheeled the tray up to the bed. Fisher stayed by the door, his shifty eyes focused on Ami like he was waiting for her to sprout fangs and wings and fly for his throat at any moment.
"Why would we want to do that?" As Jacob positioned the table, Ami's eyes fell to the bandage on his wrist. She repressed a smug smile, instead focusing on the fact that the man had actually answered her.
"Why are you doing any of this?" Ami asked.
"I'm doing my job," was Jacob's simple reply. "No one here wants to hurt you." The look on her face must have said volumes regarding how much Ami believed those words, because Jacob continued earnestly, "Really. No harm will come to you if you cooperate."
"If I'm their little lab rat you mean?" She gave the meal – breakfast by the looks of it (Breakfast! Has it been that long already?) – a cursory glance and prayed that her stomach didn't growl in front of the Flunky.
"I don't know anything about that."
"Sure you don't."
"You can eat after I take your vitals."
"Why?"
"Because you need to eat. You need to keep up your strength," Jacob said. "And don't think about trying to starve yourself. There are ways of getting food and nourishment into uncooperative patients."
Ami was certain that he meant the words to be threatening and didn't realize the bits of hope and information he fed to her. The fact that they wanted her to stay alive meant she was valuable to them – whomever they were – despite her incapacitation via drugs. Drugs that she must have been slowly growing acclimated to because she didn't feel as fuzzy headed as she had before. Oh, there was still that wall barring her and her abilities, but instead of being slippery it now gave a bit and she could get a few fingerholds in it.
It would just be a matter of time until she could get more and do more. She just hoped she had the time.
Ami frowned at the meal, then the slowly inflating blood pressure cuff. "I mean taking my vitals. I'm hooked up to a million monitors, what's the point of that? Or is it personal? Want to take a go at the helpless female for biting you?"
"Doctor's orders." Jacob pressed the stethoscope to the bend in her arm, and began deflating the cuff.
"Doctor who? I am most assuredly positive that my personal physician is nowhere on this bloody island."
Jacob didn't answer until he got the measurements. "Your health care is in good hands. And I'm objective. I don't blame you for biting or fighting back. Although, I think you realize that it didn't do you a lot of good."
Ami didn't dignify that comment with an answer. With her head less fuzzy, she sized up Jacob. Medium height, stocky build with boyish charm. His mannerisms and behavior, his methods of speech and his every action stated that he was there to put her ease and keep her calm. He was the good cop. She wondered if Fisher or Mr. Nice was supposed to be Bad Cop.
(Or maybe I haven't met Bad Cop yet.)
Pushing the uncomfortable thought aside, Ami tried to figure out how to use Jacob's Good Cop persona to her advantage. If she – and her friends – were going to escape, she was going to need more information. Starting with where her friends were and the lay of the land. Her head was still cloudy enough for Ami to realize that playing subtle and stupid wasn't going to work. She was a terrible enough liar when she wasn't being held prisoner and drugged.
That was when the idea came back to her.
"Before I eat, and you leave, might I use the toilet? I notice that this hospital is lacking in in suite ameneties. I really would rather avoid the indignity of the bed pan again, and I certainly don't want *you* to see my naughty bits."
(Here's hoping that being Good Cop means pandering to my modesty.)
Forced to remain lying down, Ami eventually lapsed into sleep yet again. There wasn't much else to do in her prison after all. She assumed she was beyond the risk of danger and complications from her spinal procedure when Jacob appeared with Fisher. Jacob wheeled in a hospital tray which, judging from the smells, Ami assumed to be food.
"The prisoner isn't going to be starved, then?" Ami asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as Jacob wheeled the tray up to the bed. Fisher stayed by the door, his shifty eyes focused on Ami like he was waiting for her to sprout fangs and wings and fly for his throat at any moment.
"Why would we want to do that?" As Jacob positioned the table, Ami's eyes fell to the bandage on his wrist. She repressed a smug smile, instead focusing on the fact that the man had actually answered her.
"Why are you doing any of this?" Ami asked.
"I'm doing my job," was Jacob's simple reply. "No one here wants to hurt you." The look on her face must have said volumes regarding how much Ami believed those words, because Jacob continued earnestly, "Really. No harm will come to you if you cooperate."
"If I'm their little lab rat you mean?" She gave the meal – breakfast by the looks of it (Breakfast! Has it been that long already?) – a cursory glance and prayed that her stomach didn't growl in front of the Flunky.
"I don't know anything about that."
"Sure you don't."
"You can eat after I take your vitals."
"Why?"
"Because you need to eat. You need to keep up your strength," Jacob said. "And don't think about trying to starve yourself. There are ways of getting food and nourishment into uncooperative patients."
Ami was certain that he meant the words to be threatening and didn't realize the bits of hope and information he fed to her. The fact that they wanted her to stay alive meant she was valuable to them – whomever they were – despite her incapacitation via drugs. Drugs that she must have been slowly growing acclimated to because she didn't feel as fuzzy headed as she had before. Oh, there was still that wall barring her and her abilities, but instead of being slippery it now gave a bit and she could get a few fingerholds in it.
It would just be a matter of time until she could get more and do more. She just hoped she had the time.
Ami frowned at the meal, then the slowly inflating blood pressure cuff. "I mean taking my vitals. I'm hooked up to a million monitors, what's the point of that? Or is it personal? Want to take a go at the helpless female for biting you?"
"Doctor's orders." Jacob pressed the stethoscope to the bend in her arm, and began deflating the cuff.
"Doctor who? I am most assuredly positive that my personal physician is nowhere on this bloody island."
Jacob didn't answer until he got the measurements. "Your health care is in good hands. And I'm objective. I don't blame you for biting or fighting back. Although, I think you realize that it didn't do you a lot of good."
Ami didn't dignify that comment with an answer. With her head less fuzzy, she sized up Jacob. Medium height, stocky build with boyish charm. His mannerisms and behavior, his methods of speech and his every action stated that he was there to put her ease and keep her calm. He was the good cop. She wondered if Fisher or Mr. Nice was supposed to be Bad Cop.
(Or maybe I haven't met Bad Cop yet.)
Pushing the uncomfortable thought aside, Ami tried to figure out how to use Jacob's Good Cop persona to her advantage. If she – and her friends – were going to escape, she was going to need more information. Starting with where her friends were and the lay of the land. Her head was still cloudy enough for Ami to realize that playing subtle and stupid wasn't going to work. She was a terrible enough liar when she wasn't being held prisoner and drugged.
That was when the idea came back to her.
"Before I eat, and you leave, might I use the toilet? I notice that this hospital is lacking in in suite ameneties. I really would rather avoid the indignity of the bed pan again, and I certainly don't want *you* to see my naughty bits."
(Here's hoping that being Good Cop means pandering to my modesty.)
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[Rose] Another beautiful morning: A Familiar Face, Part II (tag Ami)
Date: 2006-07-26 06:17 pm (UTC)“Ami!” She managed to wrench free of the hand holding her.
She wasn’t running away, not really. But she did meet Ami half way and embraced her friend.
“Thank God you’re alright.” Rose felt the tears well up again. “I was so worried they’d hurt you.” She kept her voice low, barely a whisper pressed to her friend’s ear. So soft they couldn’t possibly hear. “They killed Daisy. I tried to escape and they killed her in front of me as punishment. I’m so sorry. They’ll hurt you or Claire if I don’t cooperate. Don’t give up hope, yeah? The others will find us and get us out of here. They will.” She was shaking as she clung to Ami, feeling both reassured and so very afraid.
Then the goon was pulling her away. “That’s enough. No unsanctioned communication between patients.”
“You mean prisoners. I’m not fightin’ ya, but at least try to be a bit honest. Wasn’t a damn thing wrong with any of us until you came along. We’re prisoners and hostages, and no pretty little name is gonna change that.” Rose lifted her chin as the man pulled her away.
There was a brief flicker of gold light deep in her eyes, but it was gone so very quickly.
OOC glee
Date: 2006-07-26 06:50 pm (UTC)Aww yeah! Those bastids better watch out. *cackles*
[Ami] The Morning Continues (open tag)
Date: 2006-07-27 11:10 pm (UTC)(Strong. Be strong. For Rose. For Claire. For - Oh, god, Daisy! How could they do that?)
Ami shook along with Rose, her own words whispered rapidly, "The others will rescue us, you're right. We just have to be strong. Don't worry about me, Rose, I can take care of myself. You take care of yourself."
She didn't try to cling to Rose as the guard pulled her friend away, all hard words and coldness. Ami watched them lead Rose down the corridor, and said quietly, "I hope you're getting paid very well, Jacob."
"Come on, there's a shower waiting for you," Jacob gave her arm a tug, pulling her down the corridor.
"I suppose you think you're going to get a peek? I'd rather rot in what I'm wearing first."
"That's not an option." Her arm was pulled again, this time with more force and Ami went where indicated.
Seeing Rose gave her hope . . . the rest of it, the rest of it she couldn't afford to think about right now.