Who: Magic mushroom folks
When: Day 36, After
What's CookingWhere: Camp Crash II
Invited: Open
Status: Complete
River walked ahead of the group, keeping to the semi-solid grass at the edge of the sand. Up ahead the community waited, unwary. Some things must be. Oona would understand. So would the Doctors.
She saw when others noticed them. Some
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She listened as 'Daddy' - Daniel Jackson - spoke. He had the quality of a leader, but she doubted he'd ever been in command of anything. Perhaps it was just one of those "natural born leaders" type of thing.
" ...you're all on an island somewhere on earth, the South Pacific circa 2004. To make a long, and unbelievable story short, the island's inhabitants are the survivors of a commercial oceanliner, a small private plane, and a shipwreck. The remainder are misplaced travelers who came via portals, wormholes, and space ships."
Chelsea's lips parted. 2004. She had somehow been thrown back several centuries in time. How? Wormhole as Daniel had suggested? Portal? Some kind of rift in the space/time continuum? The last thing she remembered was being in the midst of a battle in the neutral zone that bordered UFA space. She remembered reading about several important historical matters that came about in 2004.
Two blond women came over, one looking more like a predatory cat. She reminded Chelsea of those slave girls who could completely turn a man inside-out with a smile. She folded her arms in front of her and watched the one circling them with a small frown.
"There goes the neighborhood," was directed at Remy, her tones hovering between hostile and wry before she looked to the rest; Jayne, Danny, Chelsea, Joon... A mixed bag, really.. but so was her 'group'. Still, she didn't mean to be snarky, and she, too, welcomed the rest, figuring that Daniel'd had done his 'It's 2004' spiel. "No one, really, is 'from around here'; some are just more used to it than others."
Chelsea looked over at the woman who spoke. Again, no sign of uniform but there was the tone of her voice that suggested she was used to being in command. She huffed a quiet sigh. With no other sign of any other members of her crew around, Chelsea decided that she'd need to fend for herself around here, at least until she could figure out a way to get back to her time.
"I'll go and start laying out sections for shelters. I know Marcus still needs one, and it's something to do. If nothing else, I'll grab the bamboo and palm leaves."
"I'll help," she said, taking a step forward. It sure beat just standing here and getting stared at. "Chelsea LaShay," she said to the woman with a small nod. Rank and serial number really didn't seem to be necessary around here.
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All that, however, didn't allow her to shake the fact that the pin was now in camp. She had to be careful-- Marcus had to be careful. If the telepath stepped out of line, just once, she'd kill him.
Her shoulders straightened, and a glance was shared with the man beside her. A decision was made, quietly, and she was pretty sure he knew what it was.
Chelsea's offer of aid, of course, was greeted with a distracted smile; Susan had to get back into the practice of diplomatic courtesy-- She was never really good at it. The Captain'd just tossed her in, sink or swim. There were times when she could swear she'd just started a war just on a wrong word. Never happened, much to her surprise, but there'd always been that chance.
"Susan Ivanova." That was in response to the introduction by Chelsea. "We're probably not going to get a shelter up tonight, but I'm sure the doctors won't mind if you sleep in the infirmary tonight." Well, she was pretty sure Dr. House would, but Stephen? Not a chance. The other woman who'd identified herself as a doctor? Not a clue. "Best we can do tonight is lay the poles." She looked up at the starfield above, "No clouds, yet.. but apparently, it comes and goes quickly. At least you'll have a roof over your head just in case."
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Except to glance at the pile of fronds and bamboo that had been put aside for his own dwelling. Ah, well, there was always tomorrow for that.
He turned and flashed a smile to Chelsea. "Marcus Cole" he offered in the way of introduction. "Glad to meet you, Chelsea LaShay."
(OOC: Sorry, not feeling very creative today.)
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"We have room for one of the women in our shelter, at least for tonight." She looked to River, who shrugged.
"I've got room for two more comfortably, three or four if your REALLY friendly." He offered. It would also give him a chance to observe and guard. He didn't sleep as much these days.
(OOC: sorry, got nothing so far. Been rough. On Narcs. Oh, look at the pretty colors...)
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