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✈ day one, spam
[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:]
[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:]
[Spam]
You are bleeding.
[He points to the gash.]
It would be wise to attend to that.
[Spam]
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]
[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]
Tell me where the hell we are!
[Spam]
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.
[Spam]
What Admiral?
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[By Spock's standards it's a little on the petulant side, but in his defence, it's not every day someone assumes he's not the genuine article.]
[Spam]
[Are you familiar with the old robot expression DOES NOT COMPUTE?]
[Spam]
I take it you think I am fictional?
[Spam]
[Spam]
[He's dressed in his uniform, but he's not about to insists that it's a uniform. Loyalties tend to waver when you get betrayed by your superiors.]
It is highly likely that I am different from the one you know.
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[It's the truth. He doesn't have the inmate file, he honestly doesn't know. It could be anything from mass murder to... whatever else the Admiral brought people here for.]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
Your injuries still need tending.
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]