World 7: Timeslip - RP Thread

I needed Asher's full support to manage the walk from the club to the cab, and once inside, I proceeded to fall asleep, wake up with a burst of overly loud song lyrics and proclaim I was going to throw up, even though I never did. Once at home, Asher - who was in just as bad a condition as much.. so bad, in fact, that he hadn't even bothered to try and pick a girl up at the club - assisted me into my bedroom, where I promptly drifted off into unconsciousness.

By the time the morning swung around, I had a killer hangover. I dressed slowly, with the help of two cups of coffee and some toast. Popped some aspirin and found some sunglasses before I left the apartment, cursing at how jealous I was that Asher didn't need to get up until 12 most days. I arrived at the office and tried my hardness not to collapse at my desk.

The corridor was entirely deserted and almost looked normal - for a second. A slender brunette rounded the corner, followed by a man with black hair and two others close on their tail. All four ducked for cover as the bullets began to ricochet off the walls. None seemed bothered by this turn of events, as the brunette threw her arms in the air, and suddenly, the bullets slowed, the enemy could barely move a millimetre in a minute. The other three opened fire immediately, sending almost of their bodies collapsing to the floor.

The brunette cursed that a few had survived, and focused on them, jerking her hands slightly which seemed to evoke an explosion. The five remaining continued to open the fire, but the brunette no longer seemed bothered by their bullets. Once all of the enemy had been eliminated, she barked a command that they had to keep moving, but the one called Leeg shouted out a single word that seemed to terrify the brunette, despite all of the chaos she had survived without even a flinch Turner!

( )

Shakily, I made my way back home to my apartment, and locked myself in. I soon realised that I'd been wrong, before. Attending the funeral hadn't gotten me any closure. Maybe there was none to be gained, even. I'd entertained that despairing thought for a few hours, before deliberately trying to turn the path of my mind. Realising how I hadn't been into work for ages, I called my boss, intending to plead illness. There'd been a weird tone to his voice as he answered, though, so I decided that I'd go in the next morning and see him face to face.

Lying on the floor, behind one of the tables was Asher Turner, her oldest friend. His bland grey t-shirt was torn and there was a bullet hole, not far above his right hip. He had his hands pressed against the wound, as the blood stained his t-shirt and skinShe dropped to her knees, trying to remember what little first aid she had ever learnt - she knew from one look that it was much too late. No, she muttered. One single word. Denial..

Oh, man up! laughed Asher, when he saw the tears forming in her eyes. He was on his deathbed, clearly in his last hour on earth and he was laughing. The brunette did not seem surprised so much, as worried. I'm the one who's dying! I'm pretty sure you're meant to be saying heroic and meaning shit whilst I sob and watch my life flash before my eyes

His tone was breezy, but one only had to listen closely to hear the evident cries of pain in his voice. His skin began to pale more, the only colour on him the red from the blood spewing from him. But his words did the trick - the brunette let out a single tight lipped smile. You're not dying, she responded, knowing it was all a lie. She propped him up against her and with the help of the other man began lugging him towards the door.

( Awww She tries to change things in order to save him?)

The next morning, I did my best effort to look as presentable as I could. I'd chosen my finest suit, and spent hours on my makeup and controlling myself so that I wouldn't just break down and cry it all away. Then, taking a deep breath, I left my home, and drove the short distance to my workplace. Mr. Rogers glanced up as I entered.

Oh...Caryn... he began uncertainly. I didn't know you were coming in....

I mentioned it, I frowned.

Asher began to babble away, making casual, and distasteful jokes about how he was just dead weight, but the entire team ignored him. The one called Leeg took point, checking each corner before they turned. It felt like a millennia until they got into the sunlight, but in truth, it was only a few minutes. The brunette, evidently in command, ordered he be placed on the floor and that the man, Jackson, was to guard him.

Jackson gave a single nod, his eyes alert as Leeg spoke to the brunette We need a healer, now! said Leeg, panic in her voice.

You think I don't know that?! snapped Matthews, her voice shrill with pain that she converted into anger. Take Jackson - call down to Sector 3 and see if they've got anyone on sight

Leeg opened her mouth to protest, but didn't. She retrieved Jackson from Turner's nearly dead body. He was coughing up blood now, that was spattered down Jackson's front. Matthews moved over to him, not offering any words of comfort, knowing her company was enough. She took his hand, and he smiled, knowing her plan before she did.

Oh, did you? he asked, trying to be light toned, but his voice was too high, and he was talking too quickly. He was almost babbling.

Mr. Rogers, what's wrong?

He frowned, and hesitated, until I almost wanted to snap at him.

Look.... Caryn.... I'm going to have to let you go, he whispered.

What?! I gasped. Why?!

I knew that my recent record wasn't great, true, but before the previous week, I'd been pretty much the perfect employee. I'd never taken random sick days, I'd been dedicated, I'd been hardworking. I'd nearly finished the training. And I knew that Mr. Rogers thought of me as I good social worker, he'd said himself, many times. Now, though, he just shook his head.

I'm sorry, he repeated. There were government agents here, asking questions and kicking up a fuss.... they know....

Immediately I froze at those words, guessing the real intention of them even though I shouldn't have had a clue. I hadn't told any at work about my abilities. I hadn't even know about them to tell. But the realisation had cut through into my mind, paralysing me.

Know... know about what?! I asked at last, but I knew I'd waited too long.

You... your.... your supernaturalness, he answered, distaste on his tongue. I barely heard it, though. My mind was too busy screaming.

I shook my head, automatically, too lost in this crazy denial to even think of reacting coherently. It couldn't be.... that was all I could think, over and over. It just couldn't. This couldn't be happening!!

You have to go, Caryn, he asserted. Now. Before I call security.

They appeared in a dark room, filled with boxes, computer equipment and a single dusty red couch. Lou did need to wait for her eyes to adjust to know her way around. She walked over to the corner of the room and punched in a seven digit code into the box in the corner. It didn't register, however, telling her to take another try. Confused, she hit in the same seven digits, and this time, an alarm triggered. Fuck, she muttered, cursing Owain for changing his code.. Or not changing it, she mentally corrected.

(How does that work? If he hadn't changed it, wouldn't it be the same as what she knew it to be in the future?)

Ok.... I sighed, now too emotionally numb to think of fighting this, or even arguing. I was just overcome. We were meant to have stopped it all.... I was meant to have stopped it. It was meant to never happen.

(He will change it in the future to the code she knows)

A red light flashed, and Lou tried to remain patience but she knew that Asher didn't have the time Owain was taking. Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty, thirty. She knew where he would be - waiting by the monitors in the next room, trying to work out who the intruders were Owain, you fucking asshole! Get your ass down here right this fucking second and heal him! she shouted, gesturing to Asher, resting on the couch knowing the mic would pick it up. There was a slight clutter, and the door opened.

She saw him holding a gun, and rolled her eyes. How do you know my name? he asked, questioningly. His eyes glanced to the black haired man on the floor, his skin paler than normal, except for the parts of it stained with his own blood. Owain was filled with a desire to heal him, but he had no idea who these people were..

Of course I know your name - your only name, replied Lou, fighting her own instincts to cross the distance between them.. to hug him, to kiss him, to squeal that he was alive, that he was here. Owain, just Owain, plain Owain.. you wouldn't even tell me if that was surname or a first name. You don't know me yet, it's fine, but don't spin me any bullshit that you won't save him. You would save any human life you could, whether they deserved it or not - you used to hate killing, thought it was despicable.. you do, right now. You wouldn't let him die, no matter who he is. So stop wasting my fucking time, and kiss him!

( )

It'd all been for nothing. That realisation rang through me again and again, blocking all other thought. I sank down into one of the chairs in my living area, and buried my face in my hands. What was I going to do now? Wait for some agents to come raiding in the middle of the night? Try to figh, or flee? I didn't even know if I had any borrowed offensive power at all, not knowing if the last one my future self had gained would have transferred over to me with the memories.