realityshifted

Entry tags:

doctor who (d1) patricia menzies

[006]

[Menzies arrives lying on the ground somewhere in the middle of the Plane. she's breathing hard, looking rather horrified and a little pale. she quickly sits up, looking down at herself in apparent confusion. then she starts to pat herself down, as though checking for injuries] All right... No gunshot. Fine now, then. Sure.

[taking a deep breath, she pulls herself to her feet, still looking completely frazzled. after a moment's thought, she takes hold of the ID badge that hangs around her neck. pulling it out, she briskly runs the edge of it along the back of one her hands, creating a small cut. she winces but watches with apparent interest as the cut bleeds red] And not dead. [she breathes a sigh of relief] First thing that's gone right all day... [she replaces her ID card before looking around, her expression uncharacteristically uncertain. she still looks pale and out of breath, and she clearly has no idea what to do now] Maybe this is payback for pissing off Ray.

[ooc: Menzies is in the middle of major trouble back home! See my OOC post for details.]

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[Conan hesitates momentarily as Menzies appears on the plane. In normal circumstances, he'd be happy to see her -- but he's not entirely sure she doesn't plan to interrogate him first chance he gets.

It's while he's pausing that Menzies makes her experiment. It's that which decides Conan. Menzies is not one for over-dramatics, so if it's serious enough that she's doubting that --]

Inspector Menzies -- what's wrong?

[Menzies turns to Conan, giving him a tired--and very half-hearted--smile] Hey, kid. [she sighs] Wish I knew. I got shot... [she frowns, wincing as she struggles to remember. it's reminding her that she has a headache] I mean, I think I did. Anyway, you wouldn't know it to look at me, would you? [she smiles wryly]

This isn't a repeat of Halloween then ...

[Conan comes close enough to join Menzies on the plane.]

You're shaken -- but that's not really the first thing people notice about shooting victims, is it?

What, the candy? [Menzies scoffs] Not unless I'm giving the bad luck to myself this time.

Ah, no. [she chuckles ruefully] Shaken! I'm pretty sure I was dead a few minutes ago. [but she frowns suddenly and reaches up to rub her temple. she's still struggling to put together the seemingly random scraps of memory that she has] More than once...

[Conan frowns, watching the gesture. A traumatic experience isn't easy to recall, not least because of the protective responses the mind can fall back on. A distraction? At any rate, Menzies could probably do with something to drink simply to compensate for the inevitable adrenalin dive.]

Ne ... the bar's not far from here! You look like you could use an orange juice ...

[she actually laughs at that] An orange juice? Oh yeah, that was the first thing on me mind!

[but he has a point--at the least, she wants to sit down. she certainly feels shaken, and her headache isn't helping. as much as she'd like a stronger drink, it's probably not the best idea. her memory is enough of a mess already] The kitchen's nearby, too. Fancy coffee instead? [and he could probably find orange juice there anyway. for her part, she's hoping caffeine will help. maybe somehow things will start making sense--like how she's pretty sure she remembers dying more than once]

I don't mind coffee!

[Conan's more concerned with getting Menzies somewhere more comfortable. He waits for her to start walking, easily falling into step beside her (though he does have to jog a little to keep up).]

[she nods and starts for the kitchen. she doesn't say anything for a moment--she's too busy trying to remember what happened. but as they approach the kitchen, she asks:] What do you know about experiments affecting our homes? I know the candy showed up there, but has anything more than that happened that you've heard about?

Ah -- aside from the candy, all I know of the Plane leaking into our worlds are the mergers and the missing persons investigation ...

[she makes a face] Yeah, that's all I've 'eard, too.

[heading into the kitchen, she goes straight to start some coffee brewing--and, realising that she forgot about the cut on her hand, she grabs a towel for it. at least it's a small cut]

What about you? Has anything new happened on your world?

[Conan's pretty sure he saw a first-aid kit while investigating the sink in the kitchen and sure enough, poking around the sink cupboard he pulls out a small plastic container with a handful of bandaids, some antiseptic and a roll of bandages -- someone with a low opinion of the Plane's visitors ability to fend for themselves stocked the kitchen it seems.]

My world --

[Well, there was the apparent suicide that took place in the bathroom of Mouri's own detective agency, and Conan's decision to get into the car of the murderer and fake sleep -- not to mention the mess when they managed to track down the murderer's third intended victim who'd promptly turned the tables by taking Conan hostage and leading them on a dangerous car chase through Tokyo -- with two Organisation members in tow.

Then there was the murder attempt the day after--]

I've been a little busy ... but nothing's happened to do with this place, I think!

Ah, cheers. [she takes the case from him]

[she gives him a wry smile, knowing there's probably a lot more behind the word "busy." but she has to ask, lowering her voice a bit:] Or that other bloke?

I haven't seen him -- but then, I wouldn't.

[Conan's secretly impressed that even as shaken as she is, Menzies remembered -- but he's not going to unbend even so. He opens the fridge as she gets to her wound, taking out milk and orange juice, before starting the search for coffee and sugar.]

[she nods] Good. [that, at least, she does remember. unfortunately, the details of her life recently are a lot more unclear. she sits down at the table, putting a bandage over the wound] I'd say we should go visit one of the interview rooms, but... [she chuckles ruefully] Unfortunately, I've literally got no idea what I'm going to find when I go back.

[Conan reluctantly places one mug and one glass on the table -- it is so tempting to go for the coffee himself, since Menzies is already suspicious, but he knows that he can't confirm anything.]

What do you know, Inspector Menzies?

[she nods her thanks, picking up the mug. she's really hoping the coffee will help]

[she shakes her head, smiling wryly] A lot less than I'd like. [which is to say, nothing certain] I can't really remember what happened, and what I do remember doesn't make any sense.

Tell me what you do remember then?

[Conan climbs up onto his chair at the kitchen table, setting his notebook down in front of him. You get a fresh page, Menzies.]

[she frowns a bit at the notebook; she's the one who's supposed to take down the details of other people's stories, not the other way round. but she knows he's trying to help, although she has a feeling he's about to be dismayed with the patchwork of information she can give]

Well, I got shot. There was this... [she frowns thoughtfully, trying to dredge up the details] ...this purple slime stuff. Turned out it was alive, and parasitic. And it took over one of our officers. Nasty business. We were in the middle of arresting someone, and...well, as they say, the rest is history.

Trouble is, what I remember before that is...well, nothing that makes sense. We'd been called to a flat. There were these me--no, they were...yellow. [she stops briefly, taking a drink again as she tries to remember] Some other aliens. I got shot then, too. With a laser. I remember dying--both times. But I didn't have the first wound the second time. And I 'aven't got either now. [she shakes her head] They didn't even happen in the same place! And I can't remember...in between. How I got to one or the other. [she rubs her temple again with her free hand] I feel like I've been thrown into the middle of a low-budget sci-fi film.

[You're right, Menzies. Conan doesn't like this. He's frowning at his notes, jotting down the last of Menzies information as fast as he can.]

So you've got memories of dying on two separate occasions -- ne, I have to ask. You're sure it's not nightmares?

[oh, this is not a look you want to get from her, Conan. and her verbal response is just as sharp] Yes, I'm sure. I'm old enough to know a nightmare when I've had one, thanks.

[Conan merely nods, expecting the response.]

Not a dream. And yet -- the repetition of certain elements ... it's kind of variations of a theme? The aliens, your death ...

There's nothing else that stands out?

[she stares at him at that; he's really caught her off-guard] Ah...no. I don't remember much, but...hang on, just what are you getting at?

I don't know. This -- doesn't really make sense to me, but -- I can see why you thought it was an experiement! With the same elements, it kind of seems like someone's ... but that's not possible. And it doesn't explain why you'd know about it.

[oh, she's all ears now] "Someone's"? Someone you know, you mean?

[Conan shakes his head.] Nothing that concrete! But if we're sure what is happening is real, it seems like someone is doing something with your reality, don't you think? Maybe trying to make things come to a certain outcome by tweaking events or maybe what we're seeing is a result of worlds merging and past events changing ...

Ne, who benefits by your death?

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