InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "lights, music, camera, ACTION!"

drina perez (yourdefender) wrote in inpoormerit,
@ 2010-03-05 23:03:00

Entry tags:

cath, cath and drina, drina

WHO: Drina and OPEN
WHERE: Beginning in Golf-2; Exploring around her new "home"
WHEN: late morning, noonish

Drina was conscious before she actually realized that she was awake. Instead of being caught in a place of thoughtless darkness, she was acutely aware of an ache in her muscles and the feeling of dizzyness, even though she was lying down. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened before, but she certainly remembered the men dressed in black masks. She moved her fingertips, one at a time, and then each of her toes to make sure she had suffered no injuries to her limbs or spine. Her neck turned to the right and then to the left and once she was satisfied that she still had the ability to move, her eyes opened.

Bright sunlight filtered in through a nearby window, illuminating a white room with red trim. The ceiling had a strange texture to it, and in the middle, a ceiling fan was silently rotating. This was not her home. This was not where she was supposed to be. She bolted upright in bed, a little too quickly, she learned as a wave of slight nausea hit her. When she swallowed, all she could taste was copper, and it was disgusting. Her eyes left the walls for a brief moment to travel down to her bulging stomach. Her hands caressed the flesh only for a second, before she was assured enough to stand up.

The room she was standing in looked nothing like her bedroom at home. It was smaller and there was a bright red wardrobe in one corner and a black desk on the opposite wall. Before she continued her exploration, her attention was directed toward a netbook sitting open on top of the desk. It flashed and there was a message waiting to be read. A message from someone calling themselves "The Commissioner."

The little hairs on Drina's arms rose as she felt the anxiety creep up through her body. The only hint to her location was that she was on an island. She closed the browser and immediately tried to pull up an email account, a networking site, anything that would contact her with husband or family. Nothing worked. All that she was able to find was her ability to post things on the netbook. Like a networked blog, or something. Her experience and history as a police officer kept her fear on a dull burn rather than a roaring flame. She walked over toward the wardrobe, where she found several of her favorite outfits; the nearest one was a khaki sundress. She lifted it out of the wardrobe along with a pair of flat sneakers and dressed herself before exploring the rest of the residence.

Drina noticed several artifacts from her home, including the baby blanket her mother had sent to her just a week ago. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw a large portrait of her and Heath standing together. Without another thought or word, Drina was out the door, looking for answers.

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dian_cecht
2010-03-08 08:24 am UTC (link)

Riffraff was the name he'd been given and with the sort Riffraff was, that was likely all he was going to get. With some people, you didn't press for fiddly details. Besides, with no access to outside networks, there was no way of making use of names anyways.

"From everything I've seen, I'd almost wager money on it," he admitted. "American military designations, the Commissioner's note. So far, it's looking like at least he's American." He nodded and set off towards the pub in question, keeping pace with her.

He had no reason not to be forthcoming. In this case, he had nothing to hide from other prisoners here and if they were plants, they'd already know. If this were some sort of twisted social experiment, he was going to do his bloody level best to keep it from going down the 'Lord of the Flies' path.

"Cathair or Cath is fine, Mrs. Perez," he replied nearly automatically. Of course, just because he'd given her permission to use his first name didn't mean he assumed the same familiarity with her. More of his old fashioned upbringing. "I'm a book keeper. I've a shop in a small town in Massachusetts. And you?"

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yourdefender
2010-03-08 08:48 am UTC (link)

More than anything, Drina wanted to escape from this place, but according to the message that she read when she first woke that morning, any escape would lead to the harming of a fellow captive. She had no clue who else was here, but she couldn't find it in herself to openly escape just to test the waters and see if one of them would be injured because of her disobedience. So it appeared she was stuck here. For the time being, at any rate. She would escape. Once she found a weakness in the security or the actual island, she would take a chance to escape.

"Cathair, then. And Mrs. Perez is my mother, so just stick to Drina," She thought of her mother; wouldn't Suelita be worried once she didn't get her weekly phone call from her daughter? And what about Heath? What would he do when he came home to find no sign of his pregnant wife? Rationally, she thought that the first thing he would do would be to check for her phone and belongings, and then to call her mother. The next step would be the office and the police station. Surely then, there would be an ongoing search that wouldn't end until she was found. Surely.

"Police officer," Drina decided to water down her occupation just in case; he didn't need to know she worked for the FBI. "I think I said it earlier, but I was getting ready to start my maternity leave. The plan was to switch over and become a District Attorney once the baby started school, but instead I woke up on an island talking to an Irishman." The statement had a tone of good humor, but she was quite worried about why she was here.

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dian_cecht
2010-03-08 09:07 am UTC (link)

Cathair wasn't too keen on sticking around to find out just what this whole mess was about either. But the threat of someone else being punished for any half baked escape attempts he might make made him desire to calculate a mass, all or nothing effort, involving as many of the prisoners as possible.

He chuckled. "And Mr. Delaney is my father," he shot back wryly. "Drina, then. Pretty name. Is it short for something?" He knew very little about Hispanic or Spanish names, having not had much contact with anyone with either. As for anybody missing him, that wasn't likely. He'd purposely isolated himself most of his adult life, to keep his identities completely separated. His father wouldn't think twice if he didn't call for months, since he might have been found out and had to disappear without warning. In truth, no one would likely miss him period if he never escaped. Which wasn't a cheery bloody thought, and definitely not one to linger on now.

"I thought so," he mused aloud. "You've the whole law enforcement bit going on." And it only reinforced his theory that the powers that be here were well aware of his past and abilities. A computer hacker, a police officer and a former RIRA member. Maybe Riffraff was right and they had been snatched for some sort of government scheme.

Cathair chuckled again. "Well, if you need a change of pace, you can go bother the English computer expert who's likely elbows deep in making her battle bots, but I'd not suggest it unless you get really bored." He had a feeling disturbing Riffraff at work was at least hazardous.

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yourdefender
2010-03-09 07:55 pm UTC (link)

Drina couldn't really stifle a laugh when he fired back with a bit of wit. "Touche, then Cath." She smiled softly to herself when he mentioned her own name; his words reminded her of Heath and what he had said to her when they first met. "No, it's not short for anything. My mother has a very romantic view of life sometimes and so my name reflects it." She was certain that if he knew her full name that his eyes would widen in confusion: sometimes Hispanic women had very long names. But, no one had used her full name since the day she found her invitation into the FBI. And that had certainly caught her off guard.

An eyebrow quirked. "Am I that obvious? I thought maybe I was a bit more under the radar than that," she joked. She wasn't turning off her "duty," but if she were to constantly run in "finding answers" mode she would go crazy. And the truth was, she was really starting to get hungry and it was very difficult to think properly on an empty stomach.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," for a moment she didn't know if he was joking or if he was serious, but she decided on the latter. "So is that all the people you've seen here? Just me and this battle bot building computer hacker?" She wondered just how many people were here and what they did before they were brought here. She didn't see any connection yet, but maybe after talking to everyone there would be one easy to find. She kind of doubted finding a connection between a FBI Special Agent, a computer hacker, and a bookstore owner, though.

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dian_cecht
2010-03-09 09:38 pm UTC (link)

He smiled as she laughed at his comeback. Cath couldn't help but think she was rather lovely when she smiled. It was his turn to chuckle when she explained her name. "Sounds like mine," he admitted. "She's the one who named me. Cathair means 'battle man' in Irish Gaelic. My dad always got wound up by his friends that I'd been poorly named, since I was rather quiet and bookish as a boy."

Cathair nodded, stifling a grin. "'Fraid so," he admitted. "Although since you're not cursing and waving a nightstick in my face for stopping someplace on the street too long, I'll have to say you remind me of American police, not Irish police." Cath disliked the British run Irish police force on principal, let alone how biased they were against Catholics and nationalists especially. Even the ones who didn't make trouble. "More I've had too much experience with the pushy sort. Belfast is a rougher place than most people realize."

"I'm sure she'll be nicer to you than me, considering," he pointed out. Really, horrible social skills aside, Riffraff didn't come off as the really dangerously loony sort. Just a shut-in who preferred machines to people. He'd worked with both types and was fairly good at telling them apart. "Yes, although I've only been at this an hour or two. There was no one at the pub when I was eating, but I'm wagering there's more than just us here."

Cathair was seeing a possible connection, from what he knew, but it still didn't make sense.

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