✈ day one, spam

[diealone]

[Spam for the Hallway on Level One]

[It's like... a record skipping, or car breaks giving out just as you hit a patch of black ice. One minute, he's racing away from gunfire, dragging Sayid along with him, glancing back over his shoulder to track the progress of the van, knowing they're going to make it because this is what they were supposed to do, this was going to fix everything-

And then he... trips? Something hits him? He's not really sure, but whichever it is, he winds up face down in a hallway.

It's not exactly the strangest thing that's ever happened to him, but it still throws him off, makes him think what now before pushing himself up enough to look around, try to get his bearings back.]

Sayid!

[He's alone. Sayid's nowhere in sight, and neither is the van, or Hurley, or Jin or Miles. He pushes himself to his feet, and realizes he has less than no idea where he is. If it's somewhere in the Barracks, he's never been there before, and why would he have wound up here?

Was it a flash? It didn't seem like what the others had told him about, and if it was, why was he the only one who skipped ahead? Why would it have been a flash in the first place? Where the hell is he? He has to set off the bomb.

He's wearing a beige jumpsuit with JACK, WORKMAN stitched into the left pocket and a black and white octagonal patch above that with the word DHARMA in the center. There's a large red gash on his forehead that looks mostly scabbed over, a cloth bag tied around his waist, and he's sweaty, out of breath and desperate looking as he casts about, struggling to process what the hell is going on.]

Sayid? Hello?

[ooc: Multiples and fuzzy time welcome. c:]

Comments

[diealone]

[Jack's a little perturbed by it, mostly because it's just. So far beyond what he was expecting to see, and so he stares at her in open confusion for a good three seconds before managing to say anything.]

Where am I?

[brokeout]

Oh.

[ New to the Barge. Well. John has no idea how to handle that. ]

Uh, sorry. You might want to ask someone else.

It's a - boat. In space.

[diealone]

In space?

[Jack has seen a lot of weird shit in his time.

But this is pretty beyond the pale even for him.]

[myironeyes]

I'm sorry.

[Despite his curtness, there's a weight to this, solemn and sincere. He understands duty.]

There is something I think you should see.

[He turns, moves back up the staircase toward the deck.]

[Spam]

[logistical]

[He stops, and half-turns, and while his tone is mild, it faintly implies this isn't something to be argued with, at least, not right now.]

You are bleeding.

[He points to the gash.]

It would be wise to attend to that.

[diealone]

No.

[He hasn't moved, and he's glaring now, the anger bubbling up hot and familiar because he is sick of this, he is so sick of people telling him what he's supposed to do, what he needs to do.

So he's unarmed, and he's who knows where, but he's still going to be making some demands before this goes any further, because he's tired of being someone else's pawn.]

You tell me what it is before we go anywhere.

[Spam]

[diealone]

[He doesn't budge, and his scowl just gets worse.]

Look, I don't care who you think you are, but there are things happening that are a lot more important than some cut on my forehead, so you'd better start giving me some answers before I even think about going anywhere with you.

[Spam]

[logistical]

Hostility will not serve your purpose. Should you desire to assist whoever you have left behind, you will need to be in optimal health.

[Physically and mentally. Spock leaves that bit out, though.]

The infirmary is on the second floor, simply take these stairs, and turn left.

[He doesn't intend to force Jack to do anything, but instead just provides the options.]

[Spam]

[diealone]

I don't have time for this! [He's shouting, and it's still more out of panic and concern than anything else, but anger's easier to express.]

Tell me where the hell we are!

[semifreakingnormal]

Yeah - yeah, it's Scott, remember? We talked when the network went totally nuts. [He stoops to pick up the apple, wanders closer.] It's Jack, right?

[myironeyes]

[He stops and glances back, as mild as a man with spikes for eyes can manage to look. He has no intention of forcing Jack to go anywhere.]

The deck is open. People with eyes tell me the sky is different here.

[Spam]

[logistical]

[As stoic as always, Spock responds.]

You are aboard a ship. It is not possible to return to your home; this situation may change given time. We have been brought here by the Admiral.

[diealone]

Yes. [But he still doesn't look like he remembers Scott specifically, and it's definitely not the Scott Ethan killed back... forever ago.]

What network?

[diealone]

[It's still unsettling as hell, and Jack's reluctant to trust him, or his word.]

Different how?

[Spam]

[diealone]

[He doesn't back down, because that's still not enough of an answer for him.]

What Admiral?

[enchangement]

[ Tiny teenager balls her fists and glares at him. ]

No barracks, no Sayid, no one you know! You're dead and you're here, whether or not you like it doesn't matter, she has no reason to lie about it!

[diealone]

[That takes some of the wind out of his sails, and now he just looks confused again.]

What do you mean, I'm dead?

[myironeyes]

Apparently there are more stars.

I've never seen it, so I can't really be specific.

[enchangement]

...dead? Dying. Have died.

[diealone]

Fine.

If that's going to speed this along, fine.

[Spam]

[logistical]

Presumed to be the helmsman of this ship - called the Barge.

[diealone]

Is everyone here dead?

[Not. That that makes any amount of sense to him - he still doesn't know how he feels about the afterlife - but. She seems remarkably okay with the fact that he's apparently a dead man.]

[youwillgotohell]

[She rolls her eyes, hides it by turning her head to the side.]

The Barge. [She spots the gash on his forehead, wonders how badly he will react if she just heals it. Part of her wants to see.] You've been graciously brought aboard for a second chance.

[Spoiler: This is sarcasm.]

[Spam]

[diealone]

[Alright, he can't take this anymore.] Why are you dressed like Mr. Spock?

[semifreakingnormal]

The...network? You really don't remember?

[He bites the apple again, because this is the best storage (???) and pulls out his communicator, poking at it a bit until he pulls up their conversation. He hands the device out to Jack.]

Here, look!