Daniel Faraday

Just a place to leave a message, if you really want to...

[IC or OOC comments are welcome.]

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WHO: Daniel Faraday and Charlotte Lewis
WHAT: Daniel's clumsiness leads to a (not so?) chance encounter.
WHERE: Sydney Airport
WHEN: Prior to boarding Flight 815
STATUS: In progress
RP THREAD: Here

He'd been told that this day held importance; a step towards regaining his independence. Daniel didn't want to discredit the group of doctors who had been responsible for his care at the clinic, but he still had his share of doubts. The flight's destination only making matters worse. Once in Los Angeles, he would be subject to his mother's scrutiny. If she wasn't pleased with his progress, well then he could only look forward to more tests at another private clinic of her choosing.

While he felt considerably more in control of his emotions, Daniel was still slightly on edge: nervous, jittery and unprepared to make this journey. The medication he'd taken earlier in the day lessening his symptoms only to a certain degree. He'd been advised to take one pill from the filled prescription (now safely tucked into his backpack) if anxiety increased during the flight.

Did he feel better? Confident that he'd be able to handle everyday situations and would no longer require the assistance of a caretaker, yes. However, his memory was still unpredictable. The problems were mainly with short term memory, although certain events from his past tended to blend together or escape his mind entirely. The doctors were unable (or unwilling) to supply a concrete prognosis in that regard. For now, he would try to remain hopeful to an extent - nagging prediction of the inevitable letdown lingering.

As he approached the gate, Daniel hesitated and stopped in his tracks. A sudden wave of unease leading him to fumble through his bag. There was something he needed to write down, desperately so. Before he'd had a chance to locate his journal, backpack dropped to the floor and contents scattered. Jolted by the force of a shoulder colliding with his own, startled gaze lifted. Unintelligible words were muttered by the other man before he continued on his way. In turn, Daniel smiled sheepishly and leaned down to retrieve his possessions. He'd been in the way, no doubt, lost in his thoughts. This sort of embarrassing situation not entirely foreign, unfortunately.

WHO: Daniel Faraday and Juliet Burke
WHAT: Someone needs to be walked home. Continued from here.
WHEN: Later that evening
WHERE: Dan's place
RATING: PG-13, at the most
STATUS: Incomplete

( When the moments start to crack, you do lose track where your head's at. )

[RP thread can be found here. May be continued at a later date.]

WHO: Daniel Faraday and Juliet Burke
WHAT: Hey, don't I know you?
WHEN: Late evening
WHERE: Local coffee shop
RATING: PG
STATUS: Complete
RP THREAD: Here

That last day. Ferrying passengers of the doomed flight to the freighter for rescue, until an explosion up ahead left the zodiac raft idle. Black smoke billowing in the distance. A range of emotions taking over: shock, concern, defeat. What were the chances of anyone surviving that? Vibrations on the water and an eerie high pitched sound caused his head to whip back, with unsettled gaze returning to the island. The island seemingly engulfed in a white light so bright he instinctively covered his eyes. Removing his hands from in front of his face, eyes taking a moment to adjust, only to find that he was no longer seated in a raft on the ocean. Instead his eyes were focusing on the ceiling above his bed, back home in Essex, Massachusetts. But how...? Laying there beyond confused; every second spent on the island, every encounter, retraced and replayed over and over in his mind.

In the days that followed, he tried desperately to get in touch with someone, anyone from the organization that'd hired him to travel to the island. The numbers he'd been provided with were now disconnected; any search for information came up empty. Tense as life on the island had been, he'd felt a strange sense of purpose - even though the main objective hadn't been to rescue those stranded. In his mind's eye, however, Daniel wouldn't accept that they couldn't help the survivors of that fateful plane crash. Now it would seem that the mission he'd been recruited for had ended in complete failure. Innocent people were dead; Naomi, a member of his team among them. Had whatever information Benjamin Linus held been worth that much? Guilt lingered and the constant 'what if' plagued him, even during those brief hours he managed to fall asleep.

"Charlotte, there is no 'for now.' If you don't come with me, 'for now' could be forever."

His unease had been apparent when leaving her behind on the beach, on that island - 'for now.' It seemed unlikely that he'd ever see Charlotte again, or any of those that had stayed behind, for that matter. Or so he thought. The news reports were unavoidable: six passengers from Oceanic flight 815 found alive! Kate, Jack, Sayid, Sun, Hurley and baby Aaron. If the six had survived, perhaps there could be hope for the rest. He desperately tried to make contact with the former castaways. Every attempt unsuccessful, once again.

Days and then weeks passed, isolation setting it. Reality started to slip away and at times he wondered if it all had been a figment of his imagination. In an attempt to prove that his time spent on the island hadn't been a dream or delusion, fingers would flip through the journal that had somehow weathered the return, stopping on the same page every time. Words written in red ink, letters all capitalized: If anything goes wrong, Desmond Hume will be my constant.

Could he find a way to go back? Countless hours were spent pouring over the notes he'd taken while experimenting on time alteration back at Oxford. Branching out, mostly on internet forums, he'd speak with anyone who claimed to have shifted in time; as had been the case with Desmond. On more than one occasion, anomalies in time were purported to occur in a small Southern town: Franklin Springs, Georgia. Drawn to this place, seeking out answers, an apartment in the neighboring town of Royston had been rented on his behalf. Not wanting to waste even an hour sleeping, the next search was for a coffee shop remaining open late into the evening. Seated at a cafe table, slightly disheveled in appearance as always, eyes scanned an open journal page as he slowly sipped at the hot beverage in his mug. "Gotta be missing something..."