015} now look up, well the skies are black {and they're getting darker all the time}

[theresalwayshope]

[SPAM;VIDEO]

[When the scream rings out, Allison drops like a lead weight.

It's a sound she knows well, the banshee's howl. It's painful, it's terrible, and it's terrifying because she's helpless. She would fear a dupe, if she hadn't smelled Lydia personally, if she hadn't known her for the short time they ran together...

As it is, she can't think of anything. The scream won't allow for it.

She regains awareness in the middle of the earthquake and the dark, confused and terrified and totally without direction.

Something breaks. The dark is endless.

Then...it's over.

Blinking against the sudden light, Allison flinches at the assault of new sights and sounds. She's in a room she doesn't know...a living room space, warm and neat yet lived in.

Her nostrils flare, sorting through the scents: human (Allison), rabbit, hay. There's gun oil, lead and gunpowder (bullets), the distant smells of cosmetics and breath mints and old traces of her father's aftershave. Turning in a slow circle, she spots pictures on one wall, photos of her...and on the coffee table, she takes note of a folding combat knife sitting next to some magazines.

Reaching out, she picks it up...flicks it open, then shut again.

All clues point to this space...belonging to her somehow, but there are weapons in it.

Tucking the knife into the back of her jeans, she fumbles in her pockets, looking for her comm. Finding it, her hands shake as she flicks it on, her face filling the feed a moment later. The fear is open on her features...and those that know Allison Argent well, as well as those who met her in the arena, may note enough differences in her demeanor to determine that something's very wrong.]

Everyone in the pack, please check in...I think there's something wrong.

[Allison kills the feed, then puts her comm back in her pocket, venturing cautiously out of her cabin. The doors in the corridor are familiar, but somehow wrong...

The number on the door matches. The infirmary is just down the hall. There is no question in her mind, this is her cabin. If not for the strange doors and the absence of her old room at home behind her door, she'd have sworn this was her Barge.

But, as she goes cautiously investigating the different levels of the ship (excluding warden areas at first, because she obviously doesn't have access), she slowly comes to realize that she's not where she belongs.

This ship is not the Barge she knows.]

Comments

[spam]

[walkingmeltdown]

[This cannot be happening. All he wanted to do was...revel in the fact that he was back, that he was 'home', or what passes for one anyway, the safer and saner place comparatively. The storm had hit, they had weathered it, and he was relieved to know that now everything was going to be all right.

All he wanted to do was go to his bed and sleep.

But this is the second person he's heard about in under half an hour not being who they're supposed to be. Looks like there's not going to be any sleep for him tonight.

He heads to where he knows Allison's floor is, as fast as he can, because if she and Stephanie Brown aren't the only ones who knows who else has been flip-flopped over. He doesn't want the wrong person getting hurt; her, or anybody else he might prefer she left...undamaged.

Rounding the corner he spots her finally on Level 4 and he skids to a halt, belatedly realizing she might see a glowing figure and shoot first ask questions later.]

Miss Argent? It's me. The one you met in the arena, not...the other one. The one that you're typically used to.

[He comes closer more slowly hands partially raised.]

Do you have any idea what's happening? How it is you've ended up on our Barge?

[freezerburns]

What's wrong? Allison-- [He's trying so hard not to get caught up in all the memories of that other him, that whole other life - the taste of his dad's blood between his teeth, how that version of him got his blue eyes, the... thing he'd had with Erica, the way he'd hated that other Allison Argent--

Okay, no. No. He's putting it aside, putting it away and he's not going to think about it. Compartmentalise, right? But he's so tangled up by it all that he manages to be completely oblivious and not notice it's not quite his Allison. She sounds off and he's not watching the video so much as listening to it. And in all fairness, it's not that surprising that someone might seem a little unlike themselves after something like that?]

Where are you? I'll come find you.

[termofendearment]

Careful, sweetheart, fear kills.

[maced_eggs]

[Mason, irregularly for him, is angry.

This isn't the Barge he knows, either. He wakes in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar rabbit instead of his own pet.

But he spots someone he knows - someone to interrogate.

With a scowl, Mason rushes for Allison, grabbing her by the neck and hoisting her up to the wall to pin her there. In his other hand, he holds a tiny brown bunny by the scruff of its neck. The bunny wriggles, terrified out of his tiny mind, while Mason stuffs him in Allison's face]

You'd like to explain this, then?

[ video ]

[400yearsofsurvival]

[ He remembers those last moments a little differently than Allison, having not heard the scream. For him, it was all sucking winds and darkness. Having been pulled into that awful, dark door way. Only to pop awake here. At first, his face against the dirt, he'd assumed he was still outside somewhere. But the air was too stale.

He was on his feet, scrambling away from the dirt into the furnished part of the cabin, staring around in horror before he heard Allison's voice from his pocket. He flicked it on. ]

Something's definitely wrong...

[ Behind him, she would be able to see a desk piled with books. An old, gray tapestry hung above it. What she couldn't see is what lay before him. It looked like someone had smashed out the sleeping area of his old cabin, and replaced it with a vampire lair. There were other things wrong, but that kind of had all of his attention right now. ]

video

[godsays]

Allison.

Video

[shattered_reflection]

[ A smirking pleased face greets her. Granted he's not gotten to his room yet.]

Hey babe, Everything cool? Calling your girls together sounds pretty big. [ He know's the pack has a few guys but he's a jerk to be a jerk.]

Spam

[with_my_teacup]

[The cafeteria smells like comfort food. And Riddick is all wrong-- to the wolves it will be more obvious than anyone. The lethargic zoo-animal sullenness that is mirror Riddick is nowhere in evidence, and the man putting out cheese biscuits looks like he's comfortably in control of the space around him.]

[Private Video]

[lydiascreams]

[She's seen her message a few hours ago, but she wanted to check in on a couple of people before reaching out to her. By the time she does, she's ready for her to not be her Allison.]

Allison? It's Lydia. Not-- Martin.

A bunch of people from your Barge are here. You need to be careful who you talk to.

[shieldcatchesyou]

[Bucky is not out of his league, but this is going to require more work than he anticipated. His counterpart is smart, and wouldn't just barrel into things without thinking about it, and he is, too, so he's been tracking the network, watching people, trying to act as normally as possible.

So when Allison spots him outside the library, he looks... more or less the same as usual. Normal Bucky, usual anyway. The cautious smile he gives her is a lot different from the sneer he'd usually throw at her.]

Hey.

[semifreakingnormal]

[They're not on the right Barge. Scott snarls when he realizes, turning around in his room when he returns to consciousness. The bed is where it's supposed to be. The posters, the television. He's not sure where the Playstation 4 came from, not sure about the absence of certain smells. He smells some of his people, but not all of them. It's not all right. A growl builds in his throat, and he grabs for the communicator, looking for some hint.

He finds Allison instead.

Another growl leaves as he listens to her message, replays it. Replays a kiss in the back of his mind, replays everything she said while he wasn't himself. He wants to rip her apart. He wants to be the man she looks at like that, totally in awe and in love and he still wants to rip her throat out. His hand is tight on the communicator, and when he speaks, its with a growl, and fangs, and power.

He doesn't know he's only got an hour to feel like himself.]

You think?

Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[He knows, immediately, when he spots her in the stairwell as he's heading up the steps that she's the Allison from his barge and not the one from this barge. They're both out of place here, but he's hated her for so long that his guard automatically raises. She could out him. Easily. She has no reason not to. Except maybe she does. Maybe her reason for not outing him matches his reason for not attacking her on sight.]

Allison.