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Vas Captio Mods ([info]vas_captio_mod) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-08 15:57:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 10, ellen ripley, ianto jones, jack harkness, jenny schecter, location: museum, open, remy lebeau, sam winchester, sarah jane smith, shannon rutherford

Day 10: Museum - 1:15pm
Who: OTA
What: Seven point five
When: 1:15pm - 5:00pm
Where: the Museum
Rating: TBA
Status: Active



The sun was shining high in the sky and a gentle breeze stroked the leaves of the trees, making them, along with the severed stub of rope on the clock face from the day previous sway lazily. It was quiet. Perhaps it was too quiet, for the lack of birds chirping or insects buzzing.

All in all, the day was one of the most pleasant as of yet for the bulk of the involuntary residents of Vas Captio, save, of course, the heat. Maybe it was a bit too hot to be entirely comfortable.

It started small, as most things do. A few of the sculptures rattled against the glass displays encasing them and the loose windows in some of the rooms jittered anxiously in their frames. The floor seemed to wiggle gently but then, all was quiet and immobile again.

As if to protest the stillness of the museum, a great angry shudder rumbled through the foundation. Some of the wooden floorboards seemed to shoot upward as they snapped in half or into pieces, jutting up from the floor. The whole building dropped down as its weak foundation crumbled beneath it, creating the sensation of a very short elevator drop. Glass shattered loudly, throwing about shards sharp as knives and raining them down into the floors or walls as if tossed by a knife-thrower. The doors of the multiple rooms flew open, some ripping off their hinges entirely and others being slammed angrily shut again when large display cases made of wood and metal were thrown against them.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the place as displays were destroyed completely sending still more shards of what remained everywhere, creating somewhat of a death trap, especially in the main lobby where the bulk of the displays remained. That sound was skewed until it was nearly drowned out completely as the roar of metal supports trying to hold and failing came to fruition and the entire building's worth of ceiling space collapsed in. Some of the doorways managed to hold up - those in which the doors were jammed in place by felled display cases - while others caved in under the weight of the falling debris and the loss of structure when the museum dropped from its foundation to the ground a few feet below. Almost as quickly as everything began, the movement dropped away.

Vas Captio was still, again, and silent once more.



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Sam & Shannon
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-08 03:39 pm UTC (link)
After excusing herself from Sarah Jane and Ripley, Shannon finished gathering her food and a bottle of water, then headed into the room she had shared with Sam, locking herself inside. Munching on her SlimFast bar, Shannon opened her journal and leafed through. "Slow day," she thought aloud and then noticed a page in Sam's handwriting marked just for her and asking if they could talk.

He said, after she asked what was up, that he wanted to talk in person and so she agreed. She wondered if he was upset that she'd gotten so distant, especially when she'd been in the presence of the two of them in the gym, the other day. When Dean had been the one to take her there and dump her to be Sam's burden again. Shannon's stomach turned as she wondered if Dean had told, during whatever conversation it was that they'd had, what had happened in the showers what seemed like forever ago.

All she could do, though, was wait, so that was what she did, finishing the SlimFast bar, taking a sip of her water, and laying back on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He'd come when he came, she'd let him in, and they'd talk, for better or worse, she supposed.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Sam & Shannon
[info]demonboyking
2009-06-08 06:53 pm UTC (link)
When Sam had woken early and by himself he'd decided that he'd needed to get away from the museum for a while. He didn't want to go to the church and talk to Andy, since he was half afraid Andy would ask him if he'd talked to Shannon and he would have to say no. He'd decided to wait and see if maybe he'd been jumping to conclusions, but when Shannon hadn't returned for the second night in a row he thought he'd received some kind of answer. He just wasn't sure what.

He'd walked the town alone, able to enjoy the warm weather beating down on him this time without the aid of sunglasses, and weighed the advice Andy had given him the day before. If anyone knew what Sam was feeling that moment it was Andy, since his situation with Luna wasn't exactly the same but close enough. Finally, when he was beginning to get warm and he'd weight the pros and cons of being direct with Shannon he decided to take his friend's advice and ask Shannon if they could talk.

The walk back to the museum was shorter than he thought and he found himself at the door to their room - since he thought of it more that way than simply his own - much sooner than he anticipated. He took a deep breath and knocked, a moment later hearing the scrape of something moving from behind the door and when the sound stopped he slipped inside. He gave her a nervous smile, suddenly feeling like maybe this was a bad idea.

"Here, let me," he said, pushing the display case back against the door and then turning towards her. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Sam forced his mouth to move.

"Shannon, I think maybe I owe you an apology," he said, his brow furrowing as he reached up and tugged at his collar. "If I've made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm sorry." He swallowed. "I mean, it's sort of been you and me from the beginning and I don't know if I'm taking this buddy thing too seriously, but I can't really think of any other reason why you wouldn't tell me you weren't coming back to the room, except that I'd done something to upset you." He frowned, this wasn't coming out right at all. "Not that I need know where you're at at all times," he said quickly. "I just..." He sighed, looking slightly embarrassed. "I worry."

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Sam & Shannon
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-08 07:40 pm UTC (link)
At the sound of a knock on the door, Shannon felt her stomach flip-flop nervously as she got to her feet. Please don't let Dean have told... she thought miserably as she crossed the room and, with effort, pushed the barricade away from the door. She stepped back, then, and a moment later, Sam let himself in. She gave him a small, sheepish smile and shifted her weight from one foot to another before moving forward to push the barricade back. She stopped when Sam offered and did so instead.

And then there was an awful, awkward, beyond uncomfortable silence between them before Shannon almost opened her mouth to ask Sam what it was he wanted to talk about. Except, Sam beat her to the punch. An apology? Shannon blinked stupidly at him and shook her head, even as he went on talking. "No, no!" she insisted. "No, you didn't do anything wrong," she added quickly.

He went on to say that he couldn't think of a reason why she wouldn't have told him before slipping off to Ianto and Jack's room and her heart and stomach sank with guilt. Especially when he went on to say that he worried about her. "Please don't be sorry, Sam," she said quickly. "I'm sorry if I made you worry. It was just, you know, I thought I'd give you a break. I know I'm a burden, you know, I always have been and I probably always will be, but this time, I had a chance to give the caretaker a break, so I took it. I should've said where I was going, though, and--"

Shannon stopped talking, feeling the floor shudder gently beneath her feet. Earthquake she thought immediately, eyes widening in terror. Sam had barricaded the door; by the time they moved the display, it would be too late to hide in the doorway. She didn't have time to consider anything else. The window on the wall shattered loudly as the room jolted and then dropped. Shannon reached out to grab Sam to keep her balance, only she was knocked backward, arms flailing uselessly before she hit the floor, yelping in pain as a split floorboard jabbed her roughly in the side, sinking into her skin and drawing blood. The ceiling, then, creaked dangerously and Shannon closed her eyes, rolling over onto her stomach and covering her head as it caved in around her. The last thing she thought before she felt a support beam slam into her back and head was, please not again... because she couldn't hear Sam against the screaming in the other room - Jenny, she thought fleetingly - and the roar of the destruction around her.

The breath was knocked out of her and she couldn't breathe anyway, her lungs constricting in protest from the dust in the air and her head swam with dizziness. Sam! she tried to shout to check on him, but all that came out was a wheeze as tears sprang to her eyes and she was forced to close them.

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Sam & Shannon
[info]demonboyking
2009-06-08 09:47 pm UTC (link)
Sam was already shaking his head, as Shannon said she was a burden, waiting for his turn to speak and trying to formulate a response that would alleviate Shannon of any worries that she was any kind of inconvenience to him. She was the opposite, really. Which was why her not being there had bothered him so much. Which was why he was having this conversation with her in the first place.

He felt the tremor and met her eyes, knowing instantly that she recognized it too. The door was useless and his mind strained to think of other places to be during an earthquake. "The corner!" He yelled out, pointing towards a corner of the room as the window shattered, raining down glass on top of them.

Sam reached out for Shannon, yelling her name, but she went falling backwards as he stumbled forward, his foot getting jammed in the widening knothole he'd put his torch so many times before. He heard the scrape of wood on wood and turned just in time to see the display case sliding towards him on the now slanted floor. He only had time to jerk his foot out of the hole and cover his head a split second before the case slammed into him, sending him and it crashing to the floor. Glass seemed to explode all around him and then seconds later the ceiling collapsed, support beams falling like timber. He looked up just in time to see a support beam slam into Shannon. He yelled her name, his voice mixing in with the sound of the falling ceiling and the screams from the next room. He struggled to move forward under the weight of the display case but a large piece of plaster fell, catching him on the right shoulder and head and he stilled, the world going momentarily black.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Sam & Shannon
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-08 10:09 pm UTC (link)
Wheezing and gasping for air when her breath raggedly returned to her, Shannon let out a low moan of agony. "Sam?" she choked. Everything was suddenly too quiet. "Sam," she sobbed out again, trying to turn her head to look where she'd seen him last.

Her backpack's shoulder strap was visible in her line of sight, hiding beneath the rubble of the ruined ceiling and her breath caught in her throat again as tears rolled down her dirty cheeks. The inhalers were in there, but it was too far away to reach. Her side throbbed, hot and sticky with blood as she clawed her way a few inches forward, hissing in pain when one of her fingernails snapped right down to the quick under her weight.

Dizzy with breathlessness and what was probably a slight concussion, Shannon reached back with her good hand and tried to push the support beam off her. With a little bit of effort and a lot of pain, she managed it and rolled onto her back again, pulling herself up into a seated position. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the broken off floor board from her side, whimpering as she pushed on the open wound with both hands to try and help the blood clot. It wasn't gushing and it didn't seem terribly deep, but it hurt like hell and the blood was making her squeamish.

Instead of dwelling on it, she looked around the room, breathing in through her nose and back out her mouth to try and calm herself out of the asthma attack taking hold. Sam was a few feet away lying on the floor pinned beneath the display case they'd used to hold the door shut. He wasn't moving and Shannon could already see the hair on the side of his head matted there, dark and wet. Wheezing loudly as she took a deep breath in through her mouth, Shannon moved to her hands and knees, one hand still pressed up against her bleeding side, and she crawled toward him.

"Sam...?" she ventured, bloody and hesitant hands hovering, uncertain of whether she ought to touch him at all even though she wanted to. Moving with effort to sit beside him, knees bent beneath herself and behind resting on her heels, back aching and head throbbing, Shannon reached forward, giving the display case a mighty push, sending it toppling off him and to the side, crashing to the floor. Glass littered his clothes and hair. "Don't leave me. Don't do this to me. I can't do it again," she snapped at him between hiccups and ragged, shallow breaths.

One hand reached forward and two fingers pressed against Sam's neck, feeling for a pulse. It was still there, she was relieved to find, as she pulled her hand away and closed her eyes, setting her jaw against the nausea settling in her stomach at the sight of her blood on Sam's neck and his own in his hair. "Sam, wake up," she breathed, taking another breath in through her nose and trying to ignore the loud rumbling in her chest and wheezing in her throat as she did so.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-08 11:36 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-09 12:09 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-09 10:08 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-09 10:22 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-10 12:00 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 12:26 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-10 02:18 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 02:47 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-11 02:17 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-11 11:21 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-13 02:26 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-14 01:43 pm UTC
Re: Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-15 10:03 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-15 12:43 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-19 12:56 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-19 01:29 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-25 12:15 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-29 04:23 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-07-01 04:14 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-07-03 05:39 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-07-04 09:22 pm UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-07-05 09:21 pm UTC
Re: Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-07-06 01:52 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-07-06 02:04 am UTC
Sam & Shannon - [info]demonboyking, 2009-07-09 11:53 pm UTC
Ianto and Jack
[info]madeinwales
2009-06-08 04:05 pm UTC (link)
It had been slow and it had been quiet and that had been sort of unnerving, but what could Ianto really do about it? The fact that medical supplies had turned up right around the doctors was sort of worrying, but he couldn't tell if it was another fake out or if the things would really be needed. In the end, he decided to simply get on with his day and to try to avoid jumping at shadows. He had found a place in town where he could site the top of the wall with a pan of water and marked off exactly where it was. He had measured his distance from the pan. And all that was left was measuring the distance from the pan to the wall. That'd be the pain in the arse part.

Deciding to wait until evening, with the hopes that the temperature would go down a bit, Ianto gathered up his things and headed back towards the relative comfort of the museum. Ianto dumped his things in the little room Jack had claimed for theirs and flashed the Captain a bright smile.

There was a moment when he had his mouth open to say something, but he paused as the ground started rumbling. His brow furrowed in the silence following the first little rumble and then when the major tremor hit, Ianto yelled and was tossed to the floor, arms up to protect his face. Stonework and bits of glass seemed to fly everywhere (and bounce off Ianto, dammit!) and when the roof rumbled and fell, all he could do was watch wide eyed.

When the tremor died away, Ianto was left with ears ringing, sprawled on the floor and one hand pressed to his head. His hair was sticky red and his eyes dazed, but at least he was awake and alive. One arm was pinned beneath a bit of roof and his clothing was torn and oozing red in several places. His mind had refused to catch up to the rest of the world and he simply lay there, dazed and in a puddle of pain, trying to remember what happens next.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Ianto and Jack
[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-08 05:24 pm UTC (link)
God it had been good to see Sarah Jane, yet at the same time it made him miss Rose all the more. Jack had heard rumours that Martha had been around, though never had a chance to see her in person. It was just Rose and Donna now, wasn't it? As much as Jack had liked the woman, a part of his heart would always be carved out just for Rose: the woman who danced the night away with him during the London Blitz.

Already back in the room by the time Ianto had returned, Jack flashed his lover a grin. No one around and he had managed to procure a few very useful items at the chemists -- items that Jack had every intention of trying out as soon as humanly posible.

Vas Captio, however, seemed to have other ideas. Sitting on the floor, Jack felt the rumbling first, but there was no time to warn Ianto. Just the gasp as he attempted to scramble to his feet, wanting to get Ianto out of the way of the falling debris. He, however, wasn't in time, caught beneath one of the large beams as it came crashing to the floor, Jack being the thing to break the beam's fall. More stone fell, pinning Jack beneath it, though he was fairly certain he had taken the brunt of the rubble.

At least, that was his last thought before Jack died. Death 2,394 to be precise. But who's counting?

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Re: Ianto and Jack
[info]madeinwales
2009-06-08 05:36 pm UTC (link)
Oh.

Oh no. No no no. This .. no. Not again!

Ianto reached blood sticky fingers towards the very still form under the rubble, but came up very short. So, as painful as it was, Ianto turned away and began to scrabble at the rubble and stone pinning him down, shoving it out of the way. He made very little headway, though, stopping far too often to go limp and pant. Every breath made his head pound and spin and he felt an awful lot like he was going to throw up.

Not a very good day, no.

When he lay back down again, Ianto wiggled fingers and toes, despite the fact that it cause him to gray out a little, and waited, trying to swallow the distressed sounds he kept wanting to make.

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Ianto and Jack
[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-08 05:55 pm UTC (link)
The cold, dark void. How well Jack knew it. He'd have called it an old friend if he felt that way about it. Really, though, it was the enemy he'd seen too often -- the teasing taste of what lay beyond and what he was never permitted to see. Suspended in the inky blackness, Jack had no feeling -- only that he wasn't returned immediately to the land of the earth.

Just how bad were his injuries? Jack tried to pull himself, tried to find any pinprick of light to cement himself to but could find nothing.

Don't worry, the pain won't last for long.

'Gray?' The words were thick on his tongue, reverberating in the shell of his mind, bouncing endlessly. He turned his head from side to side, sensing nothing the oppressive dark, pushing in from all angles. 'Gray, why did you do this?'

Not I. This wasn't my doing. This is your doing.

'I didn't! I did nothing! I tried to find you!'

The lies we tell ourselves, Jack. The lies we tell ourselves.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Ianto and Jack
[info]madeinwales
2009-06-08 06:05 pm UTC (link)
It took Ianto quite some time to dislodge the rocks and rubble that were strewn over his arm, but he did manage it. There was no way he could tell how long it took, though. Time was reduced to pants and throbbing in his head and arm and how often he needed to lay still to keep the world from being swallowed up by the black. Eventually, though, he won free.

Clutching his injured arm against his chest, Ianto swayed over towards the limp body under the pillar and braced his shoulder against it. Spots swam in his eyes along with tears, but Ianto ignored them all. He had a mission. Unbury Jack.

This process was just as slow as unburying himself had been, and more than once Ianto stopped and rest his head against the still chest to try and gather himself. Outwardly, he seemed hurt but alright. Inside, though, he was a gibbering mess.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-08 06:14 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-08 06:31 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-08 06:46 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-08 07:43 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-08 08:26 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-08 08:43 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-09 08:24 pm UTC
Re: Ianto and Jack - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-10 05:30 am UTC
Jenny & OTA
[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-08 04:23 pm UTC (link)
Jenny was dozing sleepily on the edge of dreams. She hadn't bothered to get up at all this morning except to reach up onto the table and get a soda. Her throat had been so dry and she was so thirsty. It had been a long, fun night and she couldn't remember a whole lot of it. Which was fine with her. She didn't need to remember all the foolish things she was sure she'd done. Especially not with the pounding headache she had right now.

Wincing as the room shook slightly, Jenny sat up and looked around. Someone must be moving one of those huge sculptures or tables in the next room. Why the fuck they needed to do that, she wasn't sure but it annoyed the hell out of her. Of course, there was not a thought in her mind that she was really in someone else's house. She was the visitor sleeping late into the afternoon in one of their rooms which was probably a place people could have been if she wasn't. No, all she cared about was them being the fuck quiet.

Reaching out to pummel her fist on the wall, she never made it. The room around her jolted violently upward and suddenly dropped out below her with a sickening elevator dropping sensation. Covering her mouth, Jenny's stomach threatened to heave. She tried to stand on shaky legs but the floor continued to roll and gyrate, sending her crashing backward with a thud as her head connected with the wall. Dazed, Jenny slid down. Her eyes, crossed, took in the chaos around her as things rolled off the table onto her, crashing into her with terrible force and sending pain up every nerve ending.

Then, with a sudden realization, Jenny saw one of the large display units rocking on its supports. She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she was able, putting her hands up in a futile effort to protect herself as not just the display but part of the wall and ceiling swung down on top of her. Her scream was cut off as everything came to settle and the silence returned.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Jenny & OTA
[info]ellen_ripley
2009-06-09 01:24 pm UTC (link)
Ripley had gone exploring once she, Shannon, and Sarah had finished chatting, curious about the contents of the museum.

She had just enough time to notice Jenny curled up under one of the tables before all hell broke loose.

Earthquakes were yet another earth-bound phenomenon Ripley had never experienced, nor had any idea how to react to. But luck, or her intense drive to survive, was with her, because her first instinct ... normally the worst one ... was to dart into the middle of the room, /away/ from all the display cases and heavy things, when the entire room started to shake.

She got flung to her knees, and instinctively curled into a ball, hiding her face against her knees, as glass flew everywhere. And then, as fast as it started, it was over. Ripley peered up cautiously.

"Holy shit." She gave her head a shake, then took stock. Felt like her back was a pincushion, but other than that ... wait. Nasty gash on her shin, too. How the hell had that got there? Ripley wasn't sure and didn't, in the end, really care. She sighed, then grabbed the second shirt she'd gotten from the thrift store and ripped it, wrapping it around her leg to stem the bleeding, then looked around.

And realized there was a hunk of WALL where the other woman had been. Oh /HELL/.

Ripley surged to her feet and started looking for something to start shifting the crap off of the woman, and, for whatever it was worth, /yelled/ at the top of her lungs.

"HELP! GOT SOMEONE CRUSHED UNDER A HUNK OF WALL HERE!!!!!"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Jenny & OTA
[info]got2haveasmith
2009-06-09 04:43 pm UTC (link)
Sarah had been on her way back to the main lobby of the museum, intending to slip out to the gas station and see if there was anything that passed for proper food, when the building shook and she felt the floor drop from underneath her. The movement of the building sent her tumbling to the ground. She fell hard, banging her hip on the ground, and barely had time to scream as the displays shattered in the corridor and pieces of art began crashing down around her.

Keeping to the floor, Sarah scrambled toward the closest door frame, hoping to at least to keep herself from catching the worst of the debris. She felt glass shards cut into her hands as she moved, and felt them dig into her shins. Loud creaks above her caused Sarah to pause just for a moment and glance up. She let loose another full-on scream as the ceiling fell down toward her. All she could do was fling herself toward the door frame, cover her neck with her hands, and pray that the luck she'd had traveling with the Doctor years before would hold now.

The door frame managed to protect her from the worst of the debris. Somehow, she'd gotten lucky in that respect. As the dust settled, she risked a glance around. The building was in complete shambles. Bracing herself against the door frame, Sarah hauled herself to her feet. She felt a pain in her left hip and leg and winced. Glancing down, she saw a stain beginning to form in her jeans. She must have cut herself. She stripped off her leather jacket and was about to try and wrap her leg with it, when she heard someone shouting.

"Hang on!" she called, turning toward the voice. "I'm coming!" She made her way toward the sound, tripping over bits of roof, art, shelves. "Not sure how much good I'll be, but..." she muttered. She could feel the glass digging into her palms. She saw Ripley not too far ahead of her as she rounded a corner and quickened her pace. "Where?" was all she asked.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Jenny & OTA
[info]ellen_ripley
2009-06-09 04:58 pm UTC (link)
Ripley'd managed to find a hunk of something that looked vaguely sturdy enough to lever the stuff off the woman when Sarah called out, and, a few moments later, came in the room.

"Under there." Ripley said, pointing to the mass of wall, display case, and who knew what else in front of her. "We have to get her out, fast." If it wasn't already too late.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Jenny & OTA
[info]got2haveasmith
2009-06-09 05:26 pm UTC (link)
Sarah Jane's eyes widened as she took in the amount of debris. Rather than worry about her own injuries, she pulled her jacket back on, hopefully to keep her torso from getting injured as she tried to shift some of the wall and other debris out of the way. She glanced around and spotted a piece of flooring that had come uprooted. With a grimace, she prised it the rest of the way free, feeling splinters dig into her already cut palms. There'd be time to deal with that later.

"We've got to be careful," she said as she made her way over to where the largest pile of rubble peaked. "If we move something the wrong way, we could crush her." Ripley had said her. Never mind the fact that the woman could be crushed already underneath all of this.

"Hello?" she called, carefully wiggling the board underneath part of the debris. "Are you conscious? Can you reply?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Jenny & OTA - [info]dont_f_withme, 2009-06-10 02:40 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]ellen_ripley, 2009-06-10 03:45 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-10 03:59 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-10 04:13 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]got2haveasmith, 2009-06-10 06:01 pm UTC
Jenny & OTA - [info]dont_f_withme, 2009-06-10 09:39 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]ellen_ripley, 2009-06-10 09:59 pm UTC
Jenny & OTA - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-11 08:41 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-12 08:04 am UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]got2haveasmith, 2009-06-13 06:40 am UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]ellen_ripley, 2009-06-13 02:45 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-14 12:56 pm UTC
Jenny & OTA - [info]dont_f_withme, 2009-06-14 04:44 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-15 09:36 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]got2haveasmith, 2009-06-16 08:29 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]capt_harkness, 2009-06-16 11:34 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]ellen_ripley, 2009-06-17 01:49 pm UTC
Jenny & OTA - [info]dont_f_withme, 2009-06-17 03:44 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]madeinwales, 2009-06-20 10:09 pm UTC
Re: Jenny & OTA - [info]got2haveasmith, 2009-06-21 11:53 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 12:07 am UTC (link)
Gambit had not been having the best of days. He wasn't a hero. He didn't rescue people. He didn't save lives of people he didn't know. It just wasn't who he was! ..Okay, so it was on occasion. So he'd saved a kid once or twice. He was always interested in rescuing a damsel in distress, and sometimes he saved men, just because he wanted to know if he could. But he wasn't interested in doing it for a living! Well, he had joined the X-Men, but that was to help his own kind! And these people were not his own kind. So he didn't care about them. What he wanted to do was grab a few of those paintings from the ruined museum (if they were still in tact), then make it back to the Post Office (he'd Jimmied the door shut so that others wouldn't notice it had popped open) and get down that tunnel and out of this place. Maybe he'd grab the Doctor before he went.. maybe not. He'd think about it on the way.

But as for right now, he was coming up on the museum, hands pressed into his pockets. His left should still hurt a lot, and it was nicer when it didn't dangle limply at his side. It was nicer when it had a place to rest, somewhere to settle so the muscles and tendons weren't stretched. As he got closer, though, he noticed that girl leaning against the outside of the museum. She was bloody, mostly around her side, but she was clearly alive. Perhaps she'd just pulled herself from the museum. That didn't bode well for it being safe to go into. But then again, that hadn't stopped him going into the Theater, or the Gym after that. Remy LeBeau hadn't always listened to logic.

He thought about going past her and up those stairs.. but she'd probably ask him for his help. Everyone else had today. So he'd cut her off at the pass (or so he told himself) and moved away from the steps, heading for her instead, even as a smile bloomed over his features. She was beautiful, at least. Maybe this wouldn't be a waste of his time. And maybe Hero stuff wasn't that bad.

"You doin' alrigh', Chere? You look like you bleedin' pretty bad. 'Dey got a make-shif' cen'er at 'de Gym." He was lowering his eyes to look down over her body, partially to assess her damage and partially to assess.. well.. her. Not bad. Black and red eyes lifted up again to her face with that same easy, charming smile.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 12:17 am UTC (link)
Shannon had been loathe to let Sam leave her once they'd managed to get themselves outside, but she also couldn't seem to make herself ask him to stay against his will. His brother was out there somewhere. And his friends. As much as Shannon hated to admit it to herself, she knew that there were other people in Sam's life that he cared about, so when he had wanted to go, she'd let him.

Then she was outside, sitting with her knees only drawn up halfway to her chest because it hurt her back too much to draw them up entirely to hug herself the way she normally would've when she felt abandoned. Plus, when she tried, her side screamed in protest, so she'd given up and compromised with the position in which she was currently in. Staring down at the dead grass and shaking, she didn't see the person approaching so much as heard him when he spoke. Chere, he called her. The guy who spoke French. Shannon looked up and gasped reflexively at his eyes. Friend of the Doctor. Speaks French. Was a nice guy on the journals. Chill the fuck out, Shannon. What kind of sick fuck would hurt a girl as beaten up as you look right now, anyway? she told herself.

"I know," she said softly, licking her lips and looking down again. She didn't want to go there. The gym, she knew, was one of the places advertised as a safe haven for people who hadn't yet found a shelter and she could only assume there were plenty of other people there that would need tending to.

Her side hurt, still, but it was mostly okay, as she moved her hand to cover the wound and press on it again, wincing just slightly. Sam had taken out the splinters; she'd live. "I'm okay..." she lied, looking back up at him. He was smiling at her and the smile reminded her of Dean when they were having better days. She blushed and pushed her hair behind one ear with her free hand. "You look like you made it out pretty well...where were you?"

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 12:40 am UTC (link)
"In 'de fores', not far from 'de glass." He answered her easily, though his smile had widened out when she'd gasped at his eyes. Typical reaction. And he thought, really, that she might have run away were she capable of doing so. But she wasn't. When she looked down at the grass again the Cajun came a few steps forward, coat shifting behind him as he did. It was only when she looked up again that Remy stopped walking, just five feet from her now. Well within grabbing distance, if he did turn out to be something she needed to worry about. But he certainly didn't look it. Not with that face. Not with that smile. And not with his body language, the easy stands, the way he kept his hands in his pockets. But those eyes..

Her blush, though, certainly caught his attention, and the trench-coated mutant was coming another step forward so he could very carefully remove his hands from his pockets and crouch in front of her, bending at the waist to let his elbows rest on his thighs and balance him. Remy LeBeau, to say the least, was a very graceful man. Everything he did was in smooth motions, fluid movements. When he crouched down there was no jerking, no shifting-- it was more liken to a dancer than anything else. Grace. You had to be graceful in his line of work.

"You don' look okay, Chere. Wouul'n' be tryin' to get rid of me now, woul' you? I'm like mol', or weeds in 'de grass. Always where I ain' wan'e', an' har' to get rid of." It was then that those red eyes were dropping down to where her hand was pressing against the injury in her side. "Seem to me like you need somet'in' tie 'roun' 'dat." Unfortunately, he wasn't about to give up his favorite leather coat. So instead, he was rising back to his feet in a fluid motion and shrugging that heavy coat off (it was too hot for it, anyway-- and it was then that it dawned on him.. he was glad he'd brought his coat, the Doctor's could be lost in that museum forever.. that'd be a shame) and dropping it onto the ground, revealing the dark turtleneck beneath. It didn't take long to pull it off over his head, leaving him in just the black tanktop he was wearing under it. But Shannon would be treated to a nice view of the lithe but muscular Cajun's arms. Not bad.

He was folding the middle of the turtleneck, wrapping it around itself to make a padded area before kneeling gracefully in front of her again, this time, the knees of his torn pant legs connecting with the ground to give him stability. "Lean forwar', Chere."

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 12:56 am UTC (link)
It didn't escape her notice that when the man - Gambit, was it? It was something weird, but she couldn't quite remember what - crouch down in front of her, it was gracefully. She arched an appraising eyebrow at him wondering if he was a dancer in the real world like she was. She wasn't going to ask, but it was fodder for thought, at least. In response to his question, she smiled weakly and shook her head. "I just don't want to move," she admitted, feeling a bit sheepish at the admission to both her actual state of being as well as her naturally lazy nature.

She watched him cautiously as he suggested she might need something to tie around it and then stood, shrugging off the leather jacket that, again, reminded her of Dean. Cut it out, she told herself. That was done and over with, so far as she could tell. Then, when he took off the turtleneck underneath, revealing a damn nice set of big guns, wearing just a black tank top, Shannon's breath caught and she looked down again.

Jesus, so many years spend using her own body to get the things she wanted and standing in front of her was a guy who could and maybe did do the very same thing. Huh. He spoke French, was graceful as hell, and judging from what she'd noticed just before forcing herself to look away again, he had himself a pretty nice physique. Never mind that smile and rogueishly good-looking face. Shannon thought maybe - just maybe - now she'd met her match. She'd thought, perhaps, that Jack was her male counterpart here, but she'd been wrong the first time thinking that Dean was, she supposed.

He spoke again as he kneeled down in front of her and she looked up. "Okay...?" she asked, brow furrowed slightly, wondering why, really, leaning forward would help him at all. It dawned on her a second later that she was leaned up against the building. Dumbass, she thought and did as the man said. "I'm really okay..." she insisted however weakly. Shannon wondered just how many people she was going to be a burden to in this place. Dean, Sam, the Doctor, Jack, Ianto...now this guy? Great. She could almost hear Boone's voice in her head, now.

You're being worthless over here, Shan.

And, yeah. She was.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 01:08 am UTC (link)
He certainly was built nicely. God had taken his time making that torso. And it showed. However, when she protested (but leaned forward), the Cajun just flashed her another easy-going smile and leaned in to begin tugging her shirt up, exposing the skin beneath. If he met any resistance it would promptly be ignored. And once that ruined tank-top was pulled up to just under her bra, he was indicating that she take hold of it to keep it there, as he allowed partially gloved fingers to graze near the wound, inspecting it briefly. Upon finding no shards of glass, metal, or wood (good man, Sam!) he was bringing the turtleneck around her waist, pressing the bulk of the shirt, where it had been wrapped around a few times, against the wound on her side to hold it in place.

"'Dere we go, not so bad, non?" He rolled his left shoulder some, trying to work the stabbing pain out of it while he was reaching forward. The shoulder, nearest the back, was badly bruised up and would be noticeable from his angle, as he leaned in to tie the long-sleeve shirt firmly around her waist to stem the bleeding. However, once the shirt was secure he was reaching up to tug her tank-top down again. She'd no longer have the slim line around her waist, thanks to the bulk of the turtleneck beneath, folded on one side and tied on the other. But he was relatively satisfied that he'd done a well enough job. For now.

"You ain' gon' die on me now, are you, Chere? Woul' hate to have ruin' my only shir' on someone who gonna die anyway." It was partial tease, partial question. He didn't think she was going to die, but he wasn't a doctor and wasn't able to tell if she had any internal bleeding, or problems that he couldn't see from the outside.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 01:19 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 01:31 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 01:48 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 02:04 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 02:27 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 02:38 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 02:53 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 03:05 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 03:20 am UTC
Re: 1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 03:35 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 03:49 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 03:57 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 04:07 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 11:34 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 11:52 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 12:06 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 12:37 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 12:47 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 01:06 pm UTC (link)
A weak smile crossed Shannon's lips as her cheeks warmed in response to his agreement. She'd been kidding, after all. She wasn't sure she could remember the last time she had been hit on so blatantly when the playfulness seemed to crop up and slip away in an almost dizzying back and forth. With Dean and Leo, it had been playful. With Sayid, it had been playful. With Sam, non-existent for the most part. This was different. Shannon though maybe, secretly, she liked it.

"Ah, gotcha," Shannon replied, nodding her understanding at the amendment he made to his statement about never having a problem with his eyes. She hoped not, for his sake. If they'd been a problem with the people who mattered, then really, they shouldn't matter at all. That bit of conversation made her think of all the unnecessary coldness and, at times, downright hatred she'd gotten from Sabrina - someone who was supposed to matter. His statement hit a little close to home and her smile faded ever so slightly as she looked away from him again and out in front of her pensively.

At the sound of his voice, Shannon looked back at him again. Once again, her brow furrowed slightly. The White Devil? She hadn't noticed the stone in his fingers, nor had she noticed it changing color until the glow had taken on an almost flashlight strength. Shannon's eyes widened slightly in awe. She wondered who he meant by "they" and why they thought whatever it was he was doing to the stone could be considered a curse if he thought it was a gift. He flicked the stone away and Shannon jumped with surprise, wincing in pain at her own sudden movement, when it exploded like a small firecracker where it landed. For a moment, she just stared back at the spot, until Gambit spoke again and her eyes moved back to him.

Her eyes searched his for a moment. Did he really think that something like that made him a better version of himself? Something so trivial? Shannon thought that might be somewhat akin to her thinking that her dancing made her a better version of herself. The two were incomparable, really, but the idea was the same - a special skill defining them as a person. If that was the case...if he truly believed that, then, "what would you be without it...?" she wondered aloud before she could stop herself. The pity that flashed in her eyes was brief and was not only for him...but a little for herself, as well, when she realized that the money she possessed before her father's death had made her think that she was better than she would've been. When the money was gone, she'd felt empty and worthless. Money wasn't the same as what he'd done, but...she understood...and felt badly for them both.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 01:22 pm UTC (link)
When she didn't run screaming from him at the display, the Cajun smiled and leaned in closer to her, his shoulder nearly touching hers as his head turned. His eyes met hers only briefly, before he moved his mouth nearer to her ear, lips brushing there as he whispered the answer. "Un corps." He'd be a dead man, without it. He would have been a corpse long ago if not for his ability to protect himself, to know when danger was coming, and to pull himself out of certain situations. And he was slowly leaning away from her again and flashing that easy smile at her.

"Like I say, Chere. Better. I don' t'ink you be t'inkin' naughty t'in's 'bout me righ' now if I were all corpsifie' an' gross, oui?" When he said that, he lifted his eyebrows, then looked forward, out over the ruined town in front of them. "What woul' you be wit'out yours?" It had been clear to him (or so he thought), that the look in her eyes signified her own wondering. He hadn't seen pity for him there (no one pitied him), he'd seen pity for herself. And someone only sympathized like that when they had the same sort of problem.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 01:36 pm UTC (link)
Shannon's eyes closed and she shivered slightly at the sensation of his lips brushing her ear. A dead man, he said.

"Veuillez nous aider, Ils sont morts, ils sont tous morts. Il sont morts, veuillez nous aider. Il est dehors, veuillez nous aider, veuiller nous aider."

The French woman's voice on the radio transceiver made her shiver again, Gambit's profession that he would be a dead man reminding her of it and the horrors of the Island. Shannon's eyes opened when she felt him pull away and she looked back at him, unable to speak for lack of anything coherent or worthwhile to say.

She ignored the comment about her thinking naughty things about him, especially because she wasn't, and followed his line of sight, looking out over the felled trees in the short distance in front of them. "Je ne serais rien," she whispered, swallowing thickly. "Je ne suis rien..."

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1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 01:49 pm UTC (link)
"Non." Gambit returned softly, turning his face back towards her and lifting his injured arm enough to bring out a partially gloved hand to touch at her opposite cheek and turn her face towards him, so that she'd be forced to look at him. If she didn't meet his eyes right away, he'd slide those fingers down to tilt her chin up and force her to.

"Je ne suis pas dans la pratique de dire aux belles femmes qu'ils se trompent. Je leur dis d'habitude n'importe quoi qu'ils veulent entendre. Mais vous vous trompez." The Cajun began slowly, talking in a more even pace, trying to repress that accent a little, to cause it to be smoother, easier for her to understand. He didn't want her to miss a word of it. "Vous n'êtes rien. Les filles grosses vilaines avec de mauvaises dents et aucune personnalité ne sont rien. Vous êtes beaux, avec un corps que je pourrais adorer pendant les semaines et vous êtes bizarres. Très bizarre. Vous êtes spirituels. Il est dur de trouver un obus avec le cerveau, Chere." His lips curled up then and the red-head leaned in closer, bringing his mouth dangerously near to hers as he spoke. "Vous n'êtes rien. Vous êtes uniques. Spécial. Mieux. Mieux parce que vous ne savez pas que vous êtes."

It was once he was done talking that he leaned forward just that bit more, pressing his mouth against hers in a surprisingly chaste manner, lingering only a second before he drew back. Oddly, it hadn't been a kiss designed to make her want to jump his bones. It hadn't been a kiss designed to get what he wanted. It'd been a reassuring, comforting thing. And Remy LeBeau did not comfort, unless it was for a child. With women, the objective was always to get something out of it. Chaste was not a word that described the thief. Then he was slowly letting his hand slide away from her face and he looked forward again, smiling easily. "I tell you, Chere. You amazin'."


[*Translation for that very smooth set of lines from Gambit: I'm not in the practice of telling beautiful women that they're wrong. I usually tell them anything they want to hear. But you're wrong. You're not nothing. Ugly fat girls with bad teeth and no personality are nothing. You are beautiful, with a body I could worship for weeks, and you're funny. Very funny. You're witty. It's hard to find a bombshell with brains, Chere. You're not nothing. You're unique. Special. Better. Better because you don't know you are.]

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1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 02:15 pm UTC (link)
Shannon only looked back at him when he turned her face toward his and tilted her chin up to look him in the eye. No, he said. His tone softened and the words came slowly. It lent Shannon the idea that he wanted her to absorb it all, so she listened. Her brow furrowed and she felt tears prickling in her eyes because no, she was none of those things. She was a worthless, selfish brat and she knew it. But then he said she was better...because she didn't know she was and before she could contradict him, he kissed her.

Her breath caught and she stiffened but she didn't even have time to push him away before he'd backed off all on his own. And then, he looked away and so Shannon did, too.

No. I'm not. I'm just me. Worthless, useless, selfish, and manipulative me. And no one in their right mind could ever love me.

Dipping her head down, Shannon wiped her face on her bare, dusty shoulder when she felt a rogue tear fall, wanting to rid herself of it before he could see. "Vous dites que ces choses comme vous me savent quand vous ne me savez pas à tout. La seule chose je suis bon à est un faux. Un voleur et un menteur. And a good fuck. Mais il est bon de savoir que je le feins bien, je suppose."

Letting out a sigh, Shannon shifted her weight and let out a soft grunt of discomfort from the movement. "It's fucking hot out here," she complained, feeling the need to change the subject, lest he think she was fishing for compliments when, really, she was just telling it like it was.

[*Translation: You say those things like you know me when you don't know me at all. The only thing I'm good at is being a fake. A thief and a liar. And a good fuck. But it's good to know that I'm faking it well, I suppose.]

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1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 02:21 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 02:31 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 02:43 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 02:58 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-10 03:23 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-10 03:52 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-12 12:46 am UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-12 11:43 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-12 11:51 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]demonboyking, 2009-06-14 04:43 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ace_of_clubs, 2009-06-14 05:57 pm UTC
1530 - Shannon & Remy cont'd + Sam! - [info]ballerinadreams, 2009-06-15 01:03 pm UTC


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