crossing_lostrp | [Daniel] Day 20: Getting Back on Task (open tag)

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[Daniel] Day 20: Getting Back on Task (open tag)

With things more or less, back to normal, Daniel resumed the briefing minus a few additional bodies. He knew that Molly was tending to Tara, and that May and Chris had presumably gone in that direction as well. Rodney was working on finding a way to dampen down Tara and hopefully the Doctor would be able to provide assistance in that endeavor as well. Faith was assigned to Isabel duty and he trusted that Molly and Chris would be able to keep an eye on May. As helpful as the young woman and the Winchester boys had been thus far, he still wasn't ready to lower his guard completely.

"So, who wants to go back to the beach and who wants to drop in on Camp Serenity?" Daniel asked. They'd made watch rotas, decided on whom was going to take inventory of what rooms and how to reorganize. A preliminary claim to rooms had been made, although there were still some rooms free and empty, and some people were indecisive. By unspoken, but somehow mutual decision, Daniel, the Doctor, Blaise, Jon and Locke had decided that the four new arrivals – Dean, Sam, May and Isabel – would not be left alone until they were sure of them. The Doctor had implied in last night's meeting in the control room that the first three so far hadn't seemed to lie to them and seemed trustworthy, but better to err on the side of caution. Once they delved into DHARMA's computer files, they'd have more information.

"It would probably be a good idea to send the jeep to the beach, and take advantage of more … extraordinary means … to get to Serenity," Daniel added. "I'm sure that people will want some of their personal items brought back from the beach and the caves, and the jeep has cargo space."

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Rodney left the room in what could be described as a rush, making muttered apologies as he passed the -hawt- Faith, trying not to bump her on his way out. Once making it out of the room, he made it down the corridor a few steps before he stopped, leaned against the wall, and exhaled again. Still, no sound, but after a couple of minutes, he could, indeed, actually hear himself once more. Thankfully, not long lasting, but with everything and everyone around here, who could blame him for a more fatalistic outlook?

'Right. Power. Junction boxes. Tools... Come on, Rodney, focus...' Rodney turned a complete 360, looking to see exactly which direction to go. Right. His room. Laptop, tester. He'll have to make sure his things are picked up from the Camp, including his boxes of wires, boards... and at one point, he'll have to get back to the raft and the work there. Nothing saying, however, that he couldn't work under better conditions, that is, right in this building. There's food. Coffee. Electricity. Lights. Other computers. He's good to go. Add to that a new hot blonde who has yet to discover that he might not be as cool as the others (so he has a chance), and it's home away from home.

Aiden pouted between bites of egg and sips of coffee. In her opnion there were far more important things to do besides settle in here. Not that she wouldn't be glad to be indoors, to say she wasn't a outdoors person was an understatement. But there were other things that required attention. She decided however not to mention them. Not knowing who to trust and how she thought it was best if she did things on her own. She was half tempted to ask them to retreive her things off the beach, but no, best not have anyone else find and possibly contaminate the evidence she'd gotten off the tranquilizer dart.

She sighed, suddenly feeling more alone. She really wished she had a partner, someone she could trust, confide in. But she didn't seem to be having any luck making friends since she'd arrived. Too much had been happening too soon, and it appeared she was a day late and a dollar short.

"I'll stay here. I've had enough of the great outdoors to last me a life time." First things first she wanted to talk to and process the victims. She what if any evidence was on the girls.

"I'm staying here until Ami's up and about," Scott stated. "After I move her into our room I'll check on Tara and Claire."

[OOC: Faith and Isabel are coming from here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/96120.html?thread=3199352#t3199352).]

"Believe it or not, we do have a dryer," Faith laughed. "This place seems to have all the comforts of home. Sorta. C'mon, I'll show you to the laundry room."

(Wow, look at this, Fatih Lehane tour guide. There goes my rep.)

She pointed out the extra kitchen, the empty rooms on the way there. She deliberately did not mention the prisoners, locked away in Room F, or the cameras. The way Faith saw it, if Isabel was some kind of plant, she knew all that information; if she was really as innocent as she proclaimed, then she'd find out soon enough.

"Anyway," Faith said as the tour concluded at the laundry room, "I wouldn't get too comfortable and go thanking me too soon.

"You sorta got yourself an official bodyguard and babysitter," Faith shrugged. She didn't have a problem with being honest because she figured she could subdue Isabel if needed. (And if I can't, we have enough cameras and enough people here who *can.*) "At least until the verdict is reached as to whether or not you're friend or foe. No offense, but we've been through some serious shit since crashing here, all of us, and the whole 'It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you,' is true.

"So either, you're another one of Them, with a capital T, in which case I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. Or, you really did just get washed up here thanks to a spectacularly bad crap roll, and you've just been given a heads up about Mindfuck Island.

"As soon as you're done here, we can head back to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure that Danny and the Doc are gonna wanna talk to you after they get done with the meeting of the minds."

Isabel put her clothes in the dryer and set it running, then leaned back against it and smiled at Faith. Her right hand crept down and planted itself firmly against the front of the dryer as she gave the machine a surreptious helping hand.

"Bodyguard and babysitter, eh? Well, I can't blame you for being cautious. I don't know who you lot are, you don't know who I am..." She shook her head. "I've told you, of course, but it's clear there are a lot of secrets being kept here. But if I can help... I'm stuck here too, and if you're working on a way to get off this island then I'm all for it. My husband and my friends were on the ship with me. They'll be looking for me, but... well. Do you get the feeling this place isn't really part of the world like you're used to?"

"This place ain't part of the world that anybody's used to," Faith supplied. "And I was pretty much elbow deep in the weird shit and boogey man tales *before* coming here. Then you throw in aliens and friendly demons and … well, after a while, it just doesn't surprise you anymore.

"That's gonna be awhile," Faith indicated the dryer. "Did you maybe want to see a doctor? Get all checked out? We got two of 'em: House and Pierson. House is an asshole, but their both kinda cute in the older man eye candy kind of way.

"And don't remind me that you're married. No law against looking."

(Married,) Faith thought, (I can't wait to see the look on half of those men hearing that.)

"I don't need to see a doctor," Isabel said. "I'm fine. I have no idea how I could possibly be fine, or why I didn't drown last night, but I didn't and I'm perfectly healthy."

To distract herself from this line of increasingly implausible ranting, she turned to the dryer and pulled the door open.

"Nearly dry!" she proclaimed cheerfully, pulling her clothes out and starting to fold them. "Did you say some people were going to want to talk to me?"

Ethan was not very happy. He'd been accousted by that freak, Hayden and for all their words of equal treatment, humanity and fairness, no one had cared. Unconscious, and unable to defend himself, Ethan was tossed in here with the others, useless nurses and guards, imbeciles all of them. Even Sakai and Wilson were useless. Sitting around, talking quietly, and waiting for rescue.

Brilliant minds, perhaps, but too stupid to realize that they were expendable. All their research would have been downloaded and transferred to the central computer at The Tower the moment the alarm was triggered. It would be easy enough to find another scientist to continue their work.

Ethan knew this. He knew that this was how it was in this sort of field. All of it political and every step could be in the wrong direction and it could be your last. They signed away their lives when they signed on with DHARMA – literally. You didn't leave until DHARMA allowed you to leave; richer perhaps but not the same.

No one left the same as they did coming in.

"If we want to get out of here, we are going to have to do it ourselves," Ethan said, rolling his head to look at Sakai and Wilson. He would *never* consider them colleagues. They would never be on par with him. "Carlson helped himself. That little bitch helped Gevalia, no doubt, and then it was every man for himself. We fucked up and didn't manage to get out."

"We were trying to contain the situation," Wilson argued.

"You were exploring the world of astral projection via a little touch from that cunt, Daisy, Wilson. The only situation you were containing was likely blubbering in the corner and trying to figure out if she'd killed you or not."

Wilson's eyes narrowed, some would say dangerously, but Ethan wasn't afraid. "Perhaps so, but we did find out a great deal of information about their defenses and their abilities while we were incorporeal. What did you do, Rom? Other than piss and shit your pants?"

Inwardly Ethan seethed and twitched. He'd already added Hayden to his list of those who would get what was coming for them. "I have my own means to handle things."

"And what does that mean?" Wilson snarled.

Ethan merely smiled.

Even his colleagues didn't know about all of his experiments. Even Carlson didn't know about this one, the reverse-trigger programming. He'd been hoping to perfect it, to polish the edges, and then to apply it to the weak minded ones back at the beach: Harry, Shannon, Zoe, maybe that annoying little girl and the crusty old bastard too. But it was still in its rudimentary phase, and it was about to be tested early.

Unperfected as it was, Ethan didn't know what would happen. But it had been several hours since he was supposed to say the trigger word; several hours to say the word that would stop the subject from following through on planted commands instead of vice-versa.

It was his security.

And soon, he would see how well programmed it truly had been.

Ethan's only regret was that he hadn't truly fine tuned it. He honestly had no idea what precisely it would do. He didn't know how much Sakai's little experiment had left of his program intact. (And I still want to kill the bitch for that.) Ethan didn't know if he still had a program.

But he would know very soon.

[Boone] Triggered

Boone awoke.

He didn't think of himself as Boone. He didn't think of himself at all. One moment he lay quietly on a hospital bed, in a space of nothingness, brain and thoughts barely functioning. The next, he came awake, thoughts filtering across his brain as synapses fired. Boone sat up, eyes blinking, seeing but not seeing.

Swinging his legs off of the bed, he moved with simple ease for a man who'd been limp and motionless and unresponsive for days. The cold of the floor did not bother him.

He walked to the door, opened it.

A figure stepped into his vision. It spoke, but Boone didn't process the words. He moved, acted. With skill and ease, as though he'd done so all his life, he attacked the figure and in a few moments it was on the floor. Dead or unconscious, Boone didn't know.

Boone didn't care.

He kept the cane.

Walked into the office and directly to a file cabinet. Opened the third drawer. Reached in the back and removed the locked box. Dialed the combination. Removed the gun and ammo. Loaded the clip. The position of his body and the shadow of the drawer blocked his every move from the security camera.

If there had been a camera on this room, but Boone didn't know that.

Boone had a purpose, a greater purpose and it was about to be fulfilled.

He followed the sound of voices. Walked into the room with voices that smelled of food, raised the gun and promptly began squeezing the trigger.

"I hope you have some sort of plan for questioning the prisoners. We're faced with the same dilemma we had with the beach raiders as well." It was Ripley who spoke up.

The Doctor wished she hadn't. Although those here had in some way aided in rescuing the captives, and had a right to know, sometimes command decisions had to be made without pretense of democracy.

"We'll get what we need to know from them. And I'm sure you and Scott can get to play bad cop all you'd like." The Doctor acknowledged that he, also, would like to take out hhis anger on the prisoners. But he would not. Let the others do it. He wouldn't stop them. "I think the ladies should have some say int he final decisions made there, however."

He wanted to be there for the interrogations, but his primary concern, now, was running several tests on Rose. He'd work with whomever he needed to to see what the extent of damage is, and if it can be reversed. Then he had to work on the cocktail of drugs used on Amy.

All in all there was much to do, and he couldn't be part of everything. He'd trust Daniel to fill him in later.

It was actually a suprise. It felt like she'd been hit in the side by a loader. She felt herself dropping, and mentally could only summon... Oh.

Then instinct kicked in. She looked down at her hand and saw the red blood, already it was disolving her clothing where it spread. She looked behind her and was glad it had only splattered a table and two chairs as well as the floor by the fine smoke rising as the acid worked. No people. Thank goodness.

Rose was on the floor infront of her, but she was looking about, confused. The Doctor was hunched over Rose, but already rising to his feet.

Ripley struggled to stand. It was akward, but she ignored the pain. Her group/family/hive were in danger and needed defending.

She grinned. It wasas if her face were frozen in that terrible grin, a showing of white teeth, and a hiss escaped.

She crouched and sprang, past the Doctor, past Blaise and Scott, one leaping bound, two, another hit, her leg crumpled, but not before she'd swiped the gun from Boone's hand and bore him down with her. Her clean hand wrapped around his throat, and her own blood dripping onto him.

(Up to players to decide if she splattered anyone on the way. No idea who else may have been hit)

Megabyte felt the pain before he actually recognized the sound. Loud, sharp cracks like a car backfiring right in the front of the room. There was a moment of confusion – where did Boone come from, wasn't he too hurt to walk – and then there was the force that knocked him out of his seat and onto the floor and the sharp, burning pain in his shoulder.

He lay on his back, gasping. Megabyte's hand clutched his shoulder and he felt wetness beneath him.

Around him, chaos reigned.

"Ripuri-san!" Kenzaki was rarely so formal with Ripuri, but he tried to get her attention. He reached to prevent her from throttling whoever it was that was being throttled.

She wasn't paying attention. She'd gone on instinct. Kenzaki attempted to pull her away from the guy, hissing as something dripped onto his arm and started burning.

"Ripuri. Ripuri. Please stop!" He didn't even attempt English. He wasn't sure he could even try.

Sam instinctively dropped to the ground and drew his handgun after the first shot rang out. Now partially under the dining table, he looked round the sea of legs and others diving to the floor for both the shooter and Dean. (He left with Jess-- the new girl. Fuck!)

Since the only non-human cover was one of the overturned chairs, Sam reached for the nearest one. He couldn't make it without further exposing himself, and more shots were being fired and something was snarling. (Snarling?!)

That did it. Sam didn't care if he risked turning into a psycho like Max. He had to protect these people and most of all his brother, and he couldn't do it if he were shot. The chair shuddered, then slid to his outstretched hand. He scrambled behind it and took aim over the seat. The last thing he'd expected to see was Ripley, bleeding from multiple wounds, with one hand wrapped around the brainwashed guy's throat. Steam curled up from wherever the blood touched -- including the shooter. His screams were blood-curdling.

Later, Daniel would thank every single Goa'uld that he'd ever had the pleasure to go up against. He had the unique luck to see Boone enter the room from the corner of his eye, but it hadn't been Boone that he'd noticed right away. No, Daniel's attention, even his peripheral attention immediately went to the gun.

He reacted instinctively, drawing his own gun and dropping to his stomach on the floor as the first shots rang out. A strong, commanding voice – his he thought, but Daniel wasn't certain – yelled, "Everybody down!"

The landing on the floor was cold, hard and jarring, but even so Daniel was leveling his gun to take a shot when something – no not something – someone came snarling and hissing through the air, a blur of motion and covered in blood, landing on Boone and taking him to the ground. Where the blood hit, the ground hissed and sizzled; Boone's skin hissed and sizzled and his screams were like nothing Daniel had ever heard.

Something sizzled near his ear. A faint tingle began on his shoulder.

His mind connected the dots automatically although he consciously didn't. A split second decision – he didn't have a clear shot without hitting Ripley.

Gun put aside, one hand jerked his shirt up and over his head, tossed to the floor beside him. The burning, searing in his shoulder would have to wait.

In another motion Daniel rolled and picked up the gun again – swearing because now Kenzaki was in the way.

Boone continued to scream, Kenzaki pleaded in Japanese.

Ripley was beyond reason.

(My kingdom for a 'zat,) Daniel continued to point his weapon. "Ripley!" He didn't think the woman could hear him, but he had to try.

When Boone had stepped into the doorway Scott stared dumbfoundedly. Then the supposedly comatose man raised a gun and all hell broke loose.

Ripley raced past him. Her fury was nearly palpable. Scott reflexively threw up his shields as the emotional storm gained momentum. Ami's horror hit him, and then pain exploded in his side.

The next thing Scott knew he was on the floor clutching his blood-soaked side with one hand. Ami's telepathic shrieks for him and Megabyte resounded in his head.

It was too much. Scott choked off his link with Ami and retreated to his emotionless Algeiban side. There he could assess the damage the bullet had done -- it had pierced his side and his small intestine -- while looking around for Damon. The redhead lie on his back about 10 feet away. Blood seeped from under the hand clutching his shoulder. (He won't bleed out. I could. Me, then Ami, then him.)

Scott listened. The shooting had stopped. He connected mentally with his sphere in his pocket and began mending the torn blood vessels. (Stop the bleeding. The rest can wait.)

Ripley was satisfied by the screaming. The sound prey made when it saw death near. Inside the alien trilled with accomplishment. It was wounded, but had fulfilled it's purpose.

But the human part heard and recognized Kenzaki's voice. He was part of the group/family/hive. Another soldier, a sister/brother. He was pulling her back. She felt no orders. No command to spare this one for seeding. Had he?

She tilted her head at an angle and looked at Kenzaki with almost flat eyes, but her grip on the prey's throat lessened, allowing the air to continue to scream.

*LET GO!* Command, male, grating. Not the smooth flow of feeling, of the emotions of the hive. Behind her she did feel emotions, fear, terror, the nest was in uproar. *RIPLEY LET HIM GO. HE'S DOWN. YOU STOPPED HIM*

Male thoughts. Male voice. Old. Ancient. Not the Queen. No... she had watched the Queen die. Killed the prince. No. This was old, male and ran over her mind like sandpaper, leaving it raw and bleeding in its wake.

But there was the sense of command there. This was a voice used to orders, a thought pattern of command. This was part soldier as well. Power and pain.

She looked once again to Kenzaki, something human slowly bleeding into her eyes.

"Fuck it hurts." Then she was down. Slumped over Boone, unconscious.

Rodney was out of the kitchen, down the corridor, and began to make his way towards the office and the equipment there. Schematics... where were they? The lights turned on, the lead researcher was just beginning to settle in to the desk there when the gunshots went off. His head jerked up, and rising from his seat, reached towards where a pistol would be, if he had one (and a holster), and finding that he did not, paused.

Gun.
Unarmed.
Brilliant scientist.

Still, there were others, and reacting more on instinct than on self-preservation (which will certainly come later), McKay bolted out of the office and headed down the corridor back towards the kitchen at a speed that one sees only rarely.

No more shots. But the screaming?

(Fine. Riiiiight,) Faith thought. Isabel may have been fine, but she was far from normal. If Faith doubted it, she was convinced when the woman pulled her clothes out of the dryer and proclaimed them nearly dry. Which wouldn't have been an issue, but they'd only been in there for a few minutes. But Faith could tell by looking at them that they were no where near wet.

"Wow, so is that telekinetics or do you call it something special?" Faith asked, "Dryer kinetics? Water kinetics?"

Isabel's -- feigned -- confused look made Faith shake her head and continue, "If you want to hide something around this group, you're gonna have to work at it a lot harder than that. We got a ten year old back on the beach who wouldn't have fallen for that one."

Out of the corner of her eye, Faith watched a figure walk past. Her Slayer senses began to tingle.

Without another word, she went into defensive mode, turning and ducking her head out of the door in time to see Brain Pulp Boy ducking into the kitchen.

Brain Pulp Boy who shouldn't have been up and walking.

"Gun!" Faith's brain processed the shadow she'd seen and she hit the hall as soon as the shots began to ring out. She skidded into the kitchen in time to be knocked back as Brain Pulp Boy went flying to the ground with something hissing and bleeding on top of him.

Slayer reflexes saved her from landing on her ass and avoiding the bullet that flew past her ear and launched itself in the wall.

Her mind worked rapidly to catch up and make sense of the mayhem: the snarling thing was Ripley, the gun was within kicking distance and the warm coppery tang of blood filled the air, blood and something else.

Her skin began to burn.

She had her back to the door, never saw it coming. But she hit the deck with the first shot and stayed down, analyzing her options. No service weapon, maybe she could get behind him and whack him over the head with something, frying pan maybe? She thought, peering around the counter she was hiding behind.

Then Ripley took him down and she was up, going for the dropped gun. All her nerves jumped as something burned her as she went past. No, not burn, splash. Something acidic.

She fought through the pain as she picked up the discarded gun and aimed it at Boone, not that it looked like there was going to be much left of him. He was down but she didn't even think about trying to get close enough to check his vitals. Not with Ripley going all wild kingdom. Aiden was cute but not stupid.

She hissed in pain as the acidic substance she hadn't yet identified burn her skin. But she didn't scream Stars past her eyes, she fought the urge to pass out.

Quentin had been sitting with his back to the door when he heard the sudden pop of the gunfire. He felt the first shot whiz by his ear just as he spun around in his chair - if he had not moved, the bullet would have hit him square in the back of the head.

Looking around he saw Boone waving a gun and spraying the room with bullets. Ripley ran past him, and in her wake he felt a burning sensation on his ankle. /What the hell?/ he thought, bending down to see what was burning him. Another bullet whizzed by over his head, another one that would have connected with his head had he not moved. This one hit Damon in the shoulder.

"Damon!" Quentin yelled as he got to his feet.

Unfortunately Quentin's luck had run out. Just as he reached Damon where he lay on the floor, a bullet slammed into Quentin's back, the force throwing him to the floor beside Damon.

/Owwww.../ was Quentin's last thought before the world went black.

(OOC - Any mystical/technologically advanced healers, please don't work your mojo on Quentin, I have ebil in mind. If someone is going to do first aid on him, drop me an email and I will tell you what will be seen.)

The first George knew of the trouble was the sudden staccato blare of an automatic weapon behind her. She spun to see what was happening. The first round hit George in the small of her back. The second caught her in the side. The third round went between her breasts.

George stumbled backward, tripped over someone and felt back against a table. She clutched at the table's edge, caught herself and stood up again.

"Son. Of. A. Bitch!" George bellowed, her voice lost in the general chaos, glancing down at the bloody ruin of another shirt. "Goddammit!"

The shooting stopped. George looked up. The shooter was down, Ripley sprawled on top of him apparently intent on choking the life from him. Others were down too. Damon and Quentin had both been hit. Several others were down as well, but by choice, mostly with guns bristling.

"Shit, George!" Blaise laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you..." Blaise started to ask. His voice trailed off and George knew he was remembering who--and what--she was. Of course she was okay.

"I'm fine," George said. "Go help somebody who needs it."

Blaise nodded agreement. He slapped something into George's hand. "I'll do that," he said. "And you can help. Hold this. I'll have my hands full."

George looked down at the first aid kit Blaise had produced. She wondered where it had come from. How very Boy Scout of him to keep it handy. But Blaise was crouching down beside Quentin to examine his wound.

Isabel knew she'd slipped up. Ordinarily she'd never have done something so stupid, but this place seemed to have scrambled her wits. She was fishing lamely for an excuse when Faith suddenly moved. Someone had walked past the laundry door. Moments later, shots rang out in the kitchen.

Surprising herself by her lack of hesitation, Isabel followed the Slayer, looking carefully round the door frame before entering a scene of absolute chaos.

((OOC: Isabel's just entered from here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/96983.html?view=3211735#t3211735), following Faith.))

The kitchen was chaos, but the shooting stopped as the woman with claws jumped on the guy with the gun and started throttling him despite what looked to be several bullet wounds. Isabel could only stare at the scene, frozen in the doorway, a look of shock on her face. Her mind flashed back to when she'd been shot, when they'd thought Max was dead and there was nobody to heal her.

There was a lot of blood on the floor.

Oh Max, if only you were here, she thought, wishing she could heal like her brother.

Isabel's going here (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/96983.html?view=3211991#t3211991).

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Page 1 of 4

[Daniel] Day 20: Getting Back on Task (open tag)

[McKay] Getting back on task (open tag)

no subject

[Scott] Staying put (open tag)

(frozen comment) [Faith] En Route to the Kitchen (tag Isabel, open)

(frozen comment) [Isabel] Domestic bliss (tag Faith, open)

(frozen comment) [Faith] Domestic bliss (tag Isabel, open)

(frozen comment) [Isabel] Domestic bliss (tag Faith, open)

[Ethan] Moments in Captivity (no tag)

[Boone] Triggered (open tag)

[Doctor] Getting Back on Task (open tag)

[Ripley] All Hell part 2 (Open)

(frozen comment) [Megabyte] All Hell part 2 (open tag)

(frozen comment) [Kenzaki] All Hell part 2 (Open)

[Sam] Reacting (Open)

[Daniel] All Hell part 2 (tag Ripley, open)

(frozen comment) [Scott] All Hell part 2 (open tag)

(frozen comment) [Ripley] All Hell part 2 (Open)

[McKay] All Hell Pt. 2 (open tag)

(frozen comment) [Faith] Yep, Another Day at the Office (tag Isabel, open)

Re: [Aiden] Reacting (open tag)

(frozen comment) [Quentin] All Hell part 2 (open tag)

[George] Sitting Ducks (tag Quentin, open)

(frozen comment) [Isabel] It's like the Crashdown all over again (open)

(frozen comment) [Isabel] All Hell part 2 (open)

(frozen comment) OOC