Prideview Apartments

who: West and Gillian
what: Waking up, and dealing
where: Gillian's apartment
when: An hour or two after the last thread with them
rating: TBD
status: In Progress


The first thing West felt when he woke up was that there was something wrapped around his forehead. The teen groggily opened his eyes, confused at first at the way the room seemed to be little more than blurs of color at first. Where was he? How'd he get here? The last thing he remembered was the roof, really . . . and why the hell was there something scratchy wrapped around his head? His hand came up to touch what felt like terrycloth, pressed against his head and wrapped all around like a turban; a towel. What the hell? Why am I wearing a towel turba- The thought was cut off when he moved, and the room spun before his eyes as searing pain ripped through his head. Oh, yeah . . . Now he remembered.

A soft groan slipped from him before his back met the couch once more, and he squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the pain and dizziness.

who: Lucien Dubenko, whomever
what: Figuring out what the hell happened
where: Lucien's Apartment(floor 7 #156), Tower 1 in general
when: Arrival
rating: TBD
status: In Progress

When he'd told one of his colleges that County General was a sinking ship, he hadn't been quite serious. He hadn't been kidding entirely either. Still, he'd been happy to stay on there as the chief of surgery and program director for trauma services as well as fostering is growing pet project--the organ exchange program he developed to work in tandem with UNOS. Sinking, but for him, productive ship. Only now, he certainly wasn't in the on call room. Nor was he at home.

He was in a bed, however. And in the pajama pants and tee shirt he'd worn to bed last night. After fumbling around he managed to find his glasses and the blurry world he awoke to came into focus. Yup, a bed. Just not his. And this room...he furrowed his brow. The furniture was unfamiliar as was the room's layout. The view from the window disturbing. He was obviously not in his house. Yet his personal effects seemed to be here.

"What the hell..."

He got up and crossed the room, looked out the window and took an uncertain step back. He was more than a few stories high and if he was correct he was looking a the New York skyline, not Chicago's. Padding across the carpet in his bare feet, he tentatively pulled open the closet doors. His clothng was there. Ties, dress shirts, suits. Even jeans.

He shook his head and walked out into the the next room. In an effort not to panic, he searched and quickly found the bathroom, reasoning that if the rest of his possessions were here, so would the contents of his medicine cabinet. They were. He was almost relieved as he popped a couple of beta blockers in his mouth and swallowed with a mouthful of tap water right from the faucet. He'd stay calm one way or another, even if he had to rely on drugs to do it.

After getting dressed in something more suitable to finding out what was going on, he left the apartment, making note of the number as he closed the door. He'd find someone and get some answers. He hoped.

OOC: I'm not really sure how launch the character here, but since everyone else seem to be all wtf, how'd I get here, I took that approach with Lucien. Will change it if need be.