diealone | Entries tagged with stranger in a strange land

Well, [Says the woman in the scrubs and lab coat, who's apparently been hanging out in the infirmary more or less since the flood started. And also more or less more than half the day since that last port, from her perspective.

(Jack's too, so despite how much he still hates being here, at least he's trying? Sort of?)]

If anyone's in need of medical attention, or has any questions they have a burning desire to ask, [Although she looks both amused and annoyed at the prospect of having to answer sex ed questions, you all should know how this works by now. We're mostly adults here.] The infirmary's open, and I'll be more than happy to help.

["Do no harm" and all.

One corner of Jill's mouth lifts in a sort of wry, not exactly bitter, not exactly sad smile as she changes tracks.]

Honestly, I don't really care what gender most of you think I should be. I just tired of waking up in someone else's bedroom. [Finding the pieces of a different version of her's life is just. Unsettling. And some of it makes her miss home, except she thinks she means LA and not the Island, this time.] Out of curiosity, how many of you have kids?

[ooc: Jill Shephard has been a little more vocal about her experiences on the island, and the fact that she's a parent to her nephew, or used to be, anyway, and is generally a slightly less miserable human.]

[It's been a few days since his arrival, and Jack's had some time to sit and let this all sink in. It's, bizarrely, helped a little that Scott and Nathan seemed to know who he was, had apparently had a conversation with him three years ago before they'd left the Island, before he decided they had to lie about everything. It makes it easier to focus less on keeping up appearances, and God knows he's had enough of that over the last few days (weeks, months, years) to last him a lifetime. He's kept a relatively low profile, although he has wandered around a little, and changed out of the khaki jumpsuit he'd shown up in, so he doesn't quite stick out like a sore thumb.

When he turns on his comm, he's in his room: a relatively nice, moderately expensive looking bedroom without too much personalization. It's neat enough, although there's definite signs that someone's been living here - the bed's not really precisely made, that sort of thing. Jack himself looks calm enough - maybe a little stressed out, or just distressed, or irritated, but he's keeping all that back in an attempt to get the hell down to business.]

My name is Jack Shephard. I was a spinal surgeon in Los Angeles before- [He hesitates a beat, and one corner of his mouth ticks up a bit in a disbelieving smile.] Before I died.

[Because he doesn't believe it, really. Everything about this is so absurd, and even with everything he's been through in the last three years, he still can't just roll with this.]

People have already filled me in on what's going on, but there's been a mistake. I don't need a second chance. [And some of the desperation and anger is starting to creep past the forced calm.] Your "Admiral" took me away from mine, and I don't see how being locked up with a bunch of murderers is supposed to fix anything.

[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:]

He walks amongst us, but he is not one of us.

Entries tagged with stranger in a strange land

✈ day one hundred and fifty seven, video

✈ day four, video

✈ day one, spam

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that's what they say. that's not what they mean.