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Darcy Rhone is a total MILF (total_milf) wrote in theletheproject,
@ 2011-05-30 19:17:00

Entry tags:

!active, darcy rhone, day 02, jack harkness, location: receiving room, open

WHO: Darcy & OPEN
WHAT: Waking up here
WHEN: Day 2, morning
WHERE: Receiving room 9, then hallway
RATING: TBD but probably PG-13 or so
STATUS: active

The inside of Darcy's eyelids burned bright red, waking her with what she thought was an unseasonably sunny morning in London. When she opened her eyes, though, the first thing she noticed was the bright, artificial light that made her squint heavily as she sat up, having to rock a bit to gain her momentum. The next thing she noticed was the dank smell that was decidely not that of Ethan's flat in London. Finally, she registered that she was no longer wearing her own clothes, but a hospital gown and she was on a cold metal gurney. Her heart raced and her breath went ragged and shallow as she carefully climbed off the gurney and took in her new surroundings. For the first time in decades, Darcy felt genuinely terrified.

Trembling, she moved across the room to the row of lockers and noticed her name on one of them, a dingy, yellowing envelope on top. With shaking hands, Darcy opened it and pulled out the letter printed on old-school printer paper — the kind that still had the perforated edges with the multi-holed tabs on either side — and she carefully read the note.

"Oh no, no, no..." she whispered to herself. Looking up and around for a security camera and unable to find one, Darcy began to speak aloud to, apparently, no one. "No, you've made a mistake," she announced in a wavering, uncertain voice. "I haven't volunteered for anything. I need to go home. I didn't volunteer for a study..."

Darcy waited a moment, standing still, but no response of any kind came. Looking around the room again, Darcy spotted a door. Whipping her head back around to the locker with her name on it, Darcy yanked it open and found her clothes, pulling them on hastily and crumbling the note, discarding it unceremoniously to the floor and moved toward the door. That was it, she was getting the hell out of here, finding the first person on staff available, explaining the mix up, and going home.

The door opened with a loud creaking and hit slammed loudly shut behind her, making her jump. She turned immediately and tried to open the door again upon realizing that it only had led her into a dank and slightly darker hallway that looked far less welcoming, which was saying an awful lot. Only, Darcy found that when she reached to try the door again, there was no knob. The door, it seemed, was completely gone. Something was very wrong here...

"Hello...?" she called out in a small, pathetic voice that was about as un-Darcy as she had ever heard come out of her own mouth. "Somebody?" she ventured and then, after a brief pause in which she allowed her eyes to well up and then spill over with tears as she hiccupped slightly, "...anybody...?"

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harkness_j
2011-06-01 03:14 am UTC (link)

[ooc: sorry for the delay, RL snatched me up unexpectedly.]

This was not the most friendly room Jack had ever woken up in. It was reminiscent of some hospital rooms he had ~~died in~~ visited back in the middle of the last century. Nothing like a momentary trip down memory lane to make you realize how unlike the place you fell asleep in your current surroundings were. "I don't think I had a binge last night," he murmured to himself as he sat up.

And - COLD! The open-back gown did nothing to shield his delicates from the chilly steel table. Not a way anyone wants to wake up. Maybe Owen was having a go. If he was, this was so not funny.

The floor was just as cool on his bare feet. If this was Owen, he must have done something in particular to piss him off this much. Or - a dreaded thought crept into his head - the old ways of Torchwood had returned and the wanted to continue their quest to see what made him tick.

The speculation could go on for hours, but he decided to cut it short and check out the locker by the only door.

It was a substantial relief to discover his clothes: underwear (briefs, if you must know), socks, undershirt, blue military dress shirt, grey slacks with grey suspenders, a pair of worn brown boots, and last but not least his beloved RAF greatcoat. Atop them was a note which left a bad taste for sure.

Now angry, he pushed on the door and, thankfully, it opened. Just outside, he discovered a young woman who seemed just out of sorts as he was. "Hey."

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total_milf
2011-06-01 01:51 pm UTC (link)

[OOC: no worries!]

Upon hearing another voice — a male one, at that — Darcy whirled toward the sound, relief washing over her tear-stricken face. She let out a huff and reached up to wipe her eyes, taking in the look of him as she did so.

"Oh, thank God," she breathed, approaching him. He looked professional, if not a little out of place. Seemed odd to see a guy wearing what looked like some kind of military garb in a place so sterile, it looked like a hospital. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to go searching for the staff on my own and end up getting lost or something. Listen, sir...I just woke up here and...got this note thanking me for volunteering for some study and I just..." she paused and wiped her face again, taking a deep breath and shivering a little at the thought of such an ungodly big screw up.

"There's been a big mistake. I didn't volunteer for this. I have to get back to London before I'm too far along to fly," she explained, resting her hand on her baby bump without even realizing she was doing it. The twins in and of themselves, especially turning out to be boys were enough of a stressor right now and she knew that stressing out was bad for both her and the babies. She couldn't very well stay in this place and add to it.

Darcy had assumed she wasn't in London anymore, because none of the doctor's offices she'd visited had been this cold and sterile; it reminded her very much of psychiatric wards on American movies. Her concern was outwardly for the babies she was carrying but, mainly, it was for herself. She needed and wanted to go back to the comfort of Ethan's flat and the sooner, the better.

"So, I don't know what I need to do, or what you need to do, or whatever, but can you please help me?" she asked as sincerely and calmly as she could make her frightened and angry voice level out to do so.

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harkness_j
2011-06-01 09:41 pm UTC (link)

Oh no. Hysterical woman. He could handle it, but there was something terrifying about a crying woman. Especially, yes he'd heard that right, a pregnant one.

"I can help, sure, but I don't know anymore than you do," he said, flashing her the same note pinched between his fingers. London wasn't too far off from Cardiff, but he was with her in being unsure if they were still in the UK. "You stick with me."

He always got a bit of a rush of something when he told someone to stick with him or to come with him. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it. It wasn't arousal, that was for sure, but it wasn't quite adrenaline either. It made him feel like he was 34 years old again and popping all over the universe and time with the Doctor and Rose, whatever that sensation was called.

"What do you say we try this door?" he asked rhetorically as he went for the only door on the wall opposite the exam rooms.

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total_milf
2011-06-01 11:21 pm UTC (link)

Relief washed over Darcy as he said that he could help her, but no sooner had he said that, the man made her heart sink as fast as it had risen by going on to say that he didn't know any more than she did. While Darcy couldn't see the actual note, the look of the paper between his fingers, alone, was enough to make her think he was probably telling the truth; there wasn't any reason for him to lie, anyway, really...was there? Darcy opened her mouth to speak and snapped it shut again with a small frown.

Still, he sounded like a take-charge kind of guy and when he said to stick with him, Darcy was inclined to do so. "I'm Darcy," she offered weakly, moving closer. "And you're awesome," she added, batting her eyelashes just a little — it was a hard habit to break — and giving him a tiny smile that didn't quite reach her red-rimmed eyes. "Taking on trying to help some pregnant girl you've never even met. You could've just as easily turned and run," she said, only half-joking. "What's your name, anyway?" she asked as he started away.

Darcy was the type of girl who was perfectly content to stay put while pouting and crying, oh woe is me, but if this guy thought he could get them out of here and he wanted to try the door, then, by God, Darcy wanted to try the door, too. "Yeah, okay," she answered non-committally, while dutifully following behind him.

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harkness_j
2011-06-02 01:09 am UTC (link)

"Captain Jack Harkness," he answered immediately with a bit of a smile. He loved saying it. It may have sounded even a bit casual, given the circumstances. He wasn't afraid of the situation so much as irritated by it. These days, if something out of the ordinary happened, it was more an impediment than a real problem for him. Hopefully his team was out there looking for him and this was a benign plot of some sort.

Slowly, Jack pulled the door open and peered out into a dimly lit hallway. It felt a little like home, actually. "Anybody home?" he asked, mostly to himself.

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total_milf
2011-06-02 01:30 am UTC (link)

Darcy moved close behind him, trying to peer over his shoulder, curiosity getting the best of her. "Captain, huh?" she asked out of reflex, more thinking aloud than meaning to vocalize the question. There were more pressing things at hand than what branch of the military Jack Harkness belonged to or of what, exactly, he was a captain. Actually, Darcy wasn't even sure it worked that way. Maybe he wasn't the captain of anything...maybe it was just a title. Darcy knew nothing about the military and didn't really care all that much. Men in uniform looked sexy, but they didn't have the time to devote to her.

Swallowing thickly, Darcy pressed one hand against Jack's back and stood carefully on tip-toe to try and see around him. "Hello?" she called out around his shoulder. The extra weight around her middle hadn't really started to bother Darcy yet, but as she tried to look around Jack, she could feel her newly protruding stomach pushing against his back and her toes started to hurt under the weight she wasn't used to having to support.

Darcy dropped back to flat foot and took a step back from Jack. As uncomfortable as that made her, she imagined it would be equally — if not more so — uncomfortable for Jack. "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly, an innocent and apologetic look crossing her face. It was one she had perfected for Dex; it was the one that always got her exactly what she wanted, even if she didn't deserve it. With that thought, Darcy wiped the look off her face again. This man wasn't Dexter and she didn't want to be Old Darcy anymore. She was trying to change. "Still trying to get used to this," she added, rubbing a hand absently over her stomach again while giving Jack a more sincere apologetic look.

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harkness_j
2011-06-02 01:52 am UTC (link)

While Jack understood the desire for pleasantries, he didn't really have time for them right now. She was being sweet and cute, which he appreciated, but far more interesting to him was the catwalks at the end of the hall that covered a large room below. Just throw in a water feature and a pterodactyl and it would be like he never left home.

"I've got one of these at home." He voiced the thought aloud, it immediately hit him as uncomfortable. Maybe his instinct about it being Torchwood was right. Maybe they had built another facility like the one in Cardiff and, like many things, didn't tell him.

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total_milf
2011-06-04 02:14 pm UTC (link)

As Darcy followed him and looked down, her breath caught. There was so much space. It was a lot for the eye to take in. Her parents' home in Indianapolis was the most space she'd ever known; living in Manhattan, even with a great paying PR job, didn't exactly loan itself to this kind of spaciousness. It wasn't well-decorated or even all that attractive, but breath-taking in it's openness all the same.

Jack said he had one of them at home and for a moment, Darcy didn't really follow. She looked back up at him, a little confused and arching one of her well-manicured eyebrows at him in hopes of an elaboration of sorts. A moment later, she actually voiced the confusion.

"One of...?" she prodded. "The catwalk?" she asked to clarify her question. Because, really, if this guy had one of these at home and he meant the vast room, maybe he was more well off than the military garb would suggest, in which case, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to see if he would turn out to be her Alastair; the wealthy, gorgeous, refined, romantic, perfect man of her dreams that Dexter hadn't turned out to be.

The meeting place didn't really play into her fantasy at all, but fantasies could be altered to fit, sometimes, she thought. Plus, the new Darcy might not be as interested in the wealth as Old Darcy would have been, but she still liked the idea of it. Besides, New Darcy was going to be more open-minded and give people a chance. New Darcy was going to get to know people, even if they didn't immediately strike her as from her breed. Jack was the perfect reason to stretch New Darcy's legs, wasn't he? Well, he could be, anyway, couldn't he?

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psychic_boy
2011-06-20 05:06 am UTC (link)

Thinking he heard voices coming from the common room, Sam ran in from the Atrium. "Dean?!" He looked into the empty common room and groaned when he found another room empty. Damnit, where was his brother! "Shit..." he mumbled as he ran his left hand over his face. He looked up to the catwalk and spotted the other two new people.

"Hey!" Were these the people who ran the place? Who the hell were these people? They both looked confused out of their mind so they probably weren't in charge, but still... his brother and the others were missing [except for the 'George' guy] and he couldn't trust anybody at this moment. "Are uh... are you guys okay?"

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total_milf
2011-07-02 05:16 pm UTC (link)

The sound of a shout clearly meant to garner attention startled Darcy. She gasped and raised a hand to her chest, slowly letting it fall back down to rest on her protruding stomach as she willed herself to calm. In the back of her mind, she was appraising the owner of the voice. Her best guess was early to mid-twenties, working poor, and either brains or brawn but likely not both. She dismissed him as a potential mate nearly immediately which left her able to talk to him with indifference toward attempting to put on a show. Instead, she was able to focus on the task at hand. ...though, if he was college-aged still, a little charm wouldn't hurt and it might even help to make her situation a focus. If he worked here, he could help get her back home to Ethan before it was unhealthy for the twins to travel.

So, Darcy put on her best helpless, sheepish, and confused female expression and let out a soft sigh of relief. "Could be better," she replied honestly. "Um, how would one go about getting home...? You see, there's been a mix-up here. Neither of us mean to be here." With that, Darcy gestured vaguely at Jack.

Then, she went on. "I personally did not offer to be part of any sort of study. As you can see," she said smoothly, rubbing her baby bump and thinking to herself that, for the first time since she'd split with Marcus, these babies might work to her advantage rather than ruin her life, "I'm in no state to be poked and prodded unnecessarily. I really would just like to get back to London and gestate with the least amount of stress possible, so...if you could help us, it would be very much appreciated." She gave the younger man a small, possibly slightly flirtatious smile, hope shining in her eyes.

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