[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

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies grabs a paper as well--but while he's searching for information on that, she has other headlines in mind]

They'll probably 'ave tried to hush it up, so it might not be the top headline. Especially not if London's 'ad anything going on.

[holmes_fanatic]

Mm ... Let's see, Manchester news ... --

...

[Conan was hoping to find something. But this -- seems entirely too easy.]

'5 Days Without News: Manchester Police Fears Grow for Missing Colleague.'

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies looks up when Conan trails off, and from his expression, she knows he's spotted something]

Guess we didn't need time to stop after all! What is it?

[holmes_fanatic]

[Conan wordlessly passes the paper over. He's giving Menzies a considering look -- any signs of being held for 5 days? She doesn't seem dehydrated or weak, just tired and shaken --]

[grip_on_reality]

[she frowns back, knowing from his expression that it isn't good news. but she takes the paper and looks down at the headline--]

[--and stares, gaping at it] What the hell!? [she quickly skims the article. Detective Inspector Patricia Menzies, missing for five days, last seen by her colleagues at Longsight Police Station at the end of her shift that evening. no reported leads or suspects...] This doesn't make any sense. I only just left!

[holmes_fanatic]

Ne ... Inspector Menzies, how much time do you think elapsed between each of your deaths? I mean from leaving the station to the first time you died, and then from when the second memory started to the second death.

[grip_on_reality]

[she's quiet for a long moment, which means she's fighting back the natural urge to panic at this sort of news. she has gaps in her memory, she's been killed several time, and now she's been reported missing? oddly enough, her most pressing thought is how the hell she's ever going to explain this to DCI Turnbull, who surely is not at all happy about the situation--and the bad press]

I...I don't remember. I really don't, kid. I remember being those places. I... [she pauses, thinking again, then shakes her head] No. I know I must've taken a car, but I don't remember getting there. [she quickly turns to the front of the paper, looking for the date] Five days...end of my shift on Monday... [she puts a hand to her head, struggling to remember. what was she doing on Monday? where did she go when her shift ended? knowing her, she was off to take care of some business with one of her alien contacts, but who? what business? she scowls in frustration]

[holmes_fanatic]

[Conan sees the frown with concern.]

Don't force it! Relax -- if it comes to you, let it. If not ...

Ne, meals or sleeping are a pretty good indication of passing time. Do you remember eating or waking up?

[grip_on_reality]

[through gritted teeth] Someone is playing a complicated joke here, and it's not funny at all.

[but she goes back to stony silence, thinking about that for a long moment. sorry, Conan--anger is her default response to frustration] I...met someone at a café. [she stops, surprised that she's managing to remember...well, a little about what's happened, anyway] Yeah, I was supposed to meet some new bloke! He got my name from one of my other contacts...was that Monday? [she makes a face] Wait, there was a restaurant, too. Some...infection. I think... [she trails off, trying to let the memory come to her--and then her expression turns rather horrified] Just how many times did I get killed!?

[holmes_fanatic]

[It's okay. While Menzies is storming silently, Conan opens the next paper, hoping for a summary of Menzies' case -- he pauses as she speaks, staring at her as her story grows.]

... Inspector Menzies seems to have made someone very cross.

[grip_on_reality]

[for her part, she looks quite as cross] You'd think it'd be more effective if I actually remembered it.

[holmes_fanatic]

Do you think that could be the point? To make sure you don't remember?

[grip_on_reality]

Then why kill me at all? Seems a bit much just to keep me from knowing who's doing it! Why not just actually kill me?

[holmes_fanatic]

Maybe they can't. Maybe they need you -- but they need you to not be you ...

Could they be trying to programme you? So -- you're afraid to get involved in a case?

[grip_on_reality]

[she snorts] If that's what they want, it's not going to work. But I suppose that's plausible. And considering the circumstances, I'd say it's a bit more likely our criminal is non-terrestrial. Question is...who? And how?

[thoughtfully] What do we know? For one, it must be focused on me. There'd be something in the paper otherwise--and I wouldn't 'ave been missing for five days.

[she still doesn't really want to believe that, but at least it means her city is safe for now, which ranks rather higher on her priority list than her own safety]

And it must've started Monday night--or Tuesday morning. I would've made it to work on Tuesday otherwise.

[holmes_fanatic]

[Conan nods. Menzies is thinking logically, and her reasoning seems sound to him.]

What about this 'new bloke' -- do you remember much about him?

[grip_on_reality]

[she thinks about that] Said his name was Frank. Not really unusual--most of 'em pick names to help them blend in. He was supposed to be at this café, but... I think the robbery happened first. We got gassed. [she pauses, concentrating hard. she's missing something here--she can feel it] I think I talked to 'im after that. I remember hearing his voice in person, not just the phone call...

[holmes_fanatic]

[Conan paused. Maybe he'd misunderstood but--]

Frank was another common element? In more than one -- scenario?

[grip_on_reality]

[she blinks, surprised] ...yes. [and her eyes widen with realisation] Oh, very good! No wonder I didn't notice. He looked different, but it was him!

[holmes_fanatic]

That's pretty suspicious, right? And if Frank is an alien then there's the chance that he has access to technology of the sort that could do this--

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies is scowling now, the pieces starting to fall together] Oh yeah, definitely suspicious. It's not every day you meet an alien who shows up as several different species and as a new police recruit. Whatever this game is, I think we know whose it is.

[holmes_fanatic]

Definite progress. Ne -- this is the first time you've met him, right? Could he be known to someone else from your world?

[grip_on_reality]

If we're lucky, the Doctor will do. I met...no... [she trails off, sighing] Oddly enough, I remember meeting him at the café--but I also remember getting gassed before he arrived. Just what is he up to?

[holmes_fanatic]

The Doctor then -- I guess that's our next step!

[grip_on_reality]

[she nods, smirking faintly. it's good to have a next step, considering everything. she moves to slide the paper she has back onto the stack--and a headline catches her eye]

[she raises an eyebrow at Conan] Looks like I'm not the only one who's been abducted.