You want to change?

[Libby's comm catches a few shots of the ceiling as she clutches it in mild panic, utters a rather masculine yelp and tumbles from her infirmary bed.]

Ow! I'm really going to feel that later...

[She turns her comm towards her, to film, when she notices that it's on. Might as well, right? She just would have made an entry later. And right now...she looks like Hurley, and she's rubbing the hip she landed on. She already knows who she's become--she doesn't need a mirror, it's fairly obvious by itself. So she's smiling.]

Mozenrath? This is Libby. I need to know whether or not you've been affected, so get back to me, okay? Also: Martha, Morgan, Billy, West...if you remember anything, Ruby, Sam, Jack, Desmond--how are you guys faring?

[She prods at her stomach quickly, feeling for the area where her her abdomen should still be healing, and then turns to reassure the doctor closest to her, whoever that is.]

I'm fine, the wounds are gone! Just banged my hip.


[OOC: The Jack she's talking to is Jack Shephard, and she thinks that should be obvious. Ditto to Sam Tyler.]

[OOC: Screened away from Jack Shephard and Desmond, out of courtesy to their players! Unless they want them to see it, in which case, go for it!]

Hey. HEY. Everyone.

[She pauses. She's completely blitzed.]

Okay. Now, our resident worst shrink ever--and that's CRANE, not me, don't even start! Anyway. He's saying the Barge is inescacabab...inescapable. That we can't go home. And he is a LIAR. Look. Lookit this guy right here.

[She holds a picture of Hurley up to the screen. Her hands aren't exactly steady.]

D'you see him? Well, I went home. To this...this GORGEOUS man. And do you know what we did?

WE MADE LOVE. And it was BEAUTIFUL!

[She sounds like she's about to cry. Happy tears, though, because she's wearing the SAPPIEST SMILE EVER.]

So don't you tell me that wasn't real. Because I will cherish those memories until I go back to him and we do MORE wonderful lovemaking. And that's what it is: MAKING. LOVE.

[And she feels the need to clarify, even though her point is already pretty clear:]

...because we LOVE each other.

I hate to do this so soon...I hadn't planned for this to happen yet, but the truth is simply that I can't bear to wait anymore.

I'm going back to my world--at least, I think that's where I'm headed. I don't know why, or how, but something is telling me that there's someplace I could have been all this time, and I've just been too stubborn to accept it. I think that someone might be waiting on me. I don't know if that means I'm getting a second chance at life, or...well, whatever else it could possibly signify. I'm sure of very little right now, except the near-certainty that I'll be seeing Hugo again. That's why I can't wait around anymore.

I don't know how long I'll be there, and how long that will equate to here. Despite this, I can promise you that I will be back. I've made connections here that I'd never want to lose, and I promised a few people I'd stay on for awhile longer.

All of my close friends--you know who you are--and maybe a few others will receive letters from me, if I can find a way to send them.

Ruby, I'll help you more when I return. I'm so sorry, but I stalled this for as long as I could.

I'll be gone by morning. Until then, I'm here to talk. I don't want to leave without saying goodbye.

So my Inmate's nowhere to be found, and I've been followed by a horde of flying hearts for most of my time here. McCoy, Martha--you guys did make sure I woke up, right?

Anyway, I just paid one of those adorable winged children for my fortune, and I'm not sure if she was trying to be rude or offering actual advice. Has anyone else been snarked at by them?

[This is a voice entry. Libby has been pushing buttons on her laptop over and over without really looking, trying to hit the one that switches voice on. However, she started talking long before she hit the right button. Basically, everyone listening is starting out in the middle of a sentence. She's hysterical and crying, and her voice makes that clear.]

--medical equipment in my room, someone...someone from the infirmary needs to come take it. Syringes, scalpels, succinylcholine...an echocardiograph machine. I can't--oh god, I think I'm going to be sick--

[Sounds of retching.]

I'm sorry, so sorry...I did things, horrible things, and they're in my head I can't make them stop and everything...

[She takes in a long, deep breath.]

It's all gone wrong.

[The sound of something, maybe glass, smashing.]

She's gone--Drusilla, that is. Her room is empty.

She left me daisies...