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

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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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[McKay] Getting back on task (open tag)

[lost-mckay.livejournal.com]

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.

[det-aiden-burn.livejournal.com]

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.

[Scott] Staying put (open tag)

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"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."

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

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[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."

[Ethan] Moments in Captivity (no tag)

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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.

[Doctor] Getting Back on Task (open tag)

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"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.

[Claire] Going into hiding

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Curled up under the blankets though she was, trying to ignore the headache and the cramps from withdrawal, Claire still heard the gunshots and recognised them for what they were. Unfortunately she also got the wrong idea.

They're coming back.. they're coming back and they're going to capture us all and hurt everyone this time..

She fought back the urge to curl up again and cry, then looked around the room and decided that she wasn't going to be a pushover like last time. Not a chance. No one else would: the screaming - bloody oath, the screaming - proved that, so she shouldn't either. They weren't getting her baby either. So what could she do?

Claire clambered out of the bed and flexed her toes on the floor. It felt like ages since she'd last walked anywhere, even before the rescue, because everyone seemed to like pushing her round in that wheelchair. Not now though; walking would have to do. Or waddling with the aid of an empty IV rack, much as she'd rather pull the thing apart in revenge for all those days she'd spent attached to one. It wasn't much good as a walking stick, not like Dr House's cane, but she could always jab someone in the eye with the bloody thing.

She got as far as the door before remembering stories of quick and easy weapons in a bar fight. Not quite the same thing, but close enough: Claire made her way back to her bedside table and picked up her glass of water, downing it quickly, then - after a moment's hesitation - smashing it against the side. Small sharps cut her hand and face, but at least she had something to nasty to protect herself and the baby with (of sorts).

Claire picked her way through the small shards of glass, wincing as she stepped on a few, then peeked out of the door. No one was there, but the screaming was still ringing out through the corridors. I hope Damon's ok! But a slow-moving pregnant girl with a fuzzy head, aches all over and the fighting instinct of an ostrich wasn't going to be much help to anyone. Best to just get out of the way and hope to all things good that no one found her too soon.

She glanced round the corner: still no one, and her destination was only a few metres away. Fantastic. Doubly so, once she got to the laundry and realised that the dryer by the door was light enough to nudge into a new position, barricading the only exit.

Claire pulled a bundle of sheets and blankets from the shelves and made herself a little nest on the floor, resting the glass and IV rack beside her. Another twinge of pain made her wince. Bloody doctors and their insistence that she shouldn't take any painkillers, but at least she'd be safe in here.

OOC: Ho hum. No need to find her for a while *cackle* the rest of you have plenty of other people to tend to at the moment, hehe. Her waters haven't even broken yet..

[Aiden] Neturalizing threats (tag Jon, Boone (if he's still alive), open)

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OOC: Am I correct in assuming Boone is dead?

Aiden couldn't help but feel a little relived when Ripely was dragged off of Boone. Apparently Boone had been splashed with acid too and it was leaking onto the floor. This was not good.

"Shit" Aiden said. She pulled the clip out of the Boone's gun and removed the bullet from the chamber. She laid the gun on the nearest counter and tossed the clip and loose round into the sink. She would've liked to secure it further, and process it, but that would obviously have to wait.

"Somebody help me get him to a shower!" she yelled, grabbing one of Boone's legs and starting to drag him out of the kitchen.

"And someone clean up the floor. Try some ammonia, see if you can neutralize the acid!"

[Scott] The doctor is out. Go away. (open tag)

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After what felt like hours after partially healing Ripley, Scott sat on the edge of the mattress beside Ami, who was sound asleep again. If not for the few drops of blood staining the light blanket and the dull ache in his side Scott would have had deja vu. He'd managed to stay away long enough to chug some water, shower, and change into clean scrubs. The ones he'd been wearing were more bloodstained than not.

Despite her slumber Ami rolled over and curled one arm around Scott's lower waist. Contentment coursed over their link. Smiling, Scott moved her arm and slipped under the blanket beside his wife. His eyes closed of their own accord as she snuggled up to him. (Funny we're sleeping in the cafeteria again,) he mused and drifted off to sleep.