[006]

[grip_on_reality]

[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.]

Comments

[most_feared]

I don't think Ray is a good reason to be slicin' open your hand, Darlin'. [That's a weird thing to walk in on, but he comes over to get a look at her hand (and her, because something definitely reeks of "not normal" here).]

[grip_on_reality]

[she turns around at the voice, relieved to see a familiar face. and, for once in her life, she actually isn't sure what to say. after an awkward pause, she falls back on a snarky comment, but it's a bit halfhearted] You never know. 'ave you spent much time listening to his whining?

[most_feared]

Seemed like he had a real unfortunate reason for it. A helpful one, though. But we'll worry about that later.

[He fishes in his pocket for a handkerchief she can put around her hand.] What's this about gunshots and not bein' dead?

[grip_on_reality]

[she scoffs] Helpful? With what?

That about sums it up right there. I got shot, I died, and 'ere I am, good as new. But I don't remember coming back. And I 'aven't got black blood! Not exactly the norm, is it? Not even 'round here.

[most_feared]

I'll talk to you about it later. [Dismissive.]

He said he has to run a machine to bring people back from the dead. He said it wasn't a real pleasant experience so you ought to have remembered something like that I'd think. Where'd you get shot?

[grip_on_reality]

[she nods, distracted. Kay has caught her in one of the rare situations where she'll let a topic like that drop]

I'd think so! [but she frowns. does she remember a machine? she saw...something. she rubs her temple, fighting the headache she's feeling at her attempt to remember] Ah...here. [she puts a hand to her chest. see, Kay, she should be dead]

[but she frowns again, confused as she starts to remember more of what happened] There was a laser, too. First. But that... [she puts a hand to her throat. she'd been shot there, too, hadn't she? before the gunshot. and she'd died then, too! Menzies scowls, frustrated. none of it makes any sense] What the hell happened back there!?

[most_feared]

[Which really says how dire a situation it is.] Are you caught in some sort of loop?

[He doubts her department would have clone protocol. He presses his fingers against the spot she just indicated on her chest, and it doesn't feel as though there ever was a gunshot wound there or trauma of any sort.]

[holmes_fanatic]

[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?

[grip_on_reality]

[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]

[holmes_fanatic]

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?

[grip_on_reality]

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...

[holmes_fanatic]

[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 ...

[grip_on_reality]

[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]

[darkercalling]

[Okay. That? That is incredibly worrying. Riku makes his way over, clearly concerned, even though he's going to hide that behind a front of calm.]

Any reason you're just watching yourself bleed?

[Of course, he heard what she said. He knows the reason. That's why he's so worried.]

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies is both relieved and worried to see Riku. a friend is a welcome sight at the moment, but she knows how persistent he is, and she's not terribly keen to get him involved in anything dangerous after what happened with the candy. she can't entirely hide that she's pale and shaken, but she tries to, giving him a wan smile] Just enjoying the red. Guess it's a rarity 'round here.

[darkercalling]

I guess it is. [He shakes his head.] So what happened? Are you okay?

[grip_on_reality]

Ah...apparently. [she pauses, not sure how to respond. this is definitely not a situation that she ever thought she'd be in] Which is surprising, considering I got shot and killed a few minutes ago.

[now there's a sentence she never thought she'd say]

[darkercalling]

You... what? [He looks her over, like he's trying to find evidence of her having been shot. But he sees nothing, and her blood looks normal, so...]

Are you sure about that? I thought that anyone who died that could come here... [He trails off. She knows the rest of that sentence, he doesn't need to voice it (and he'd rather not, thanks)]

[grip_on_reality]

So did I. [sharply] And yes, I'm sure the bleeding gunshot wound in my chest was real and not just something I was pretending was happening for the hell of it.

All gone now, though. I... [she hesitates] I don't know what happened. I only remember some of it.

[bit_impossible]

[it's been a very, very, very long time (for him) since he's seen her even near this sort of state--and that's worrying.]

Patricia, what happened?

[grip_on_reality]

Doctor! [she's relieved to see him--but unfortunately that's a rather hard question to answer] I got shot and killed. [she smiles ruefully] Just like old times.

[bit_impossible]

[serious face-mode is a go!] I never got you killed.

If you were shot dead, you'd have that black blood--[reaches for her cut hand]--and you don't. [he's actually really, really relieved to see that] So what really happened?

[grip_on_reality]

[she lets him take her hand, too out of it to match that with a protest or a smart comment] That's exactly what I want to know.

[bit_impossible]

[he keeps a hold on her hand, his grasp hopefully reassuring] Let's go sit down and you can explain what happened to make you think you were shot and killed.

[he starts to lead her to a chair not too far away from them]

[grip_on_reality]

[she follows him at first--but then she tries to snatch her hand back, defensive about that comment] I didn't just think I was shot and killed, thanks. It's not exactly the sort of thing you have a nightmare about and wake up believing!