damned_institute | Day 58: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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Day 58: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

By the time that breakfast had ended, Michael didn't really know what to think.

The good part of him -- the part that went to church every Sunday and prayed that he could find justice for his clients -- wanted to feel for those two boys. They were going through Hell (and not the literal kind that they were thinking of) and he really did hold out hope that they would get their acts together. But the rest of him wanted to forget all about them and focus on himself. They weren't his responsibility anymore, now that the case had been dropped. The very idea of a killer had been a fantasy, after all. It wasn't his job to worry about them.

He certainly wasn't some guardian angel, either. He had never signed up for that and he had no idea why his mind had decided that was the case. Figuring that out was probably his key to getting healthy again, but it seemed like an uphill journey at this point.

Either way, it was good to get away from Matt and Eric. He needed some breathing room, some time to just let his mind clear out all of that crazy angel and demon stuff. Being religious was one thing; this was another, and he knew it wasn't right. He tried not to think about what his parents probably thought of him, but for all he knew they weren't even aware that he was here. In fact, Michael couldn't even remember who had admitted him. It was possible he'd just brought himself here.

A shower sounded like a real blessing, though, and he didn't hesitate to strip out of the uniform and find shelter under the hot spray of one of the shower heads. It was definitely more than just washing off; it felt like a cleansing experience, like he was scrubbing the very idea of Castiel out of his skin. He knew it wasn't that easy, that he could relapse at any point, and yet he tried anyway.

However, once he'd washed his body and shampooed his hair, he realized that he needed to give up the shower space for someone else who might need it. As much as he would have liked to spend the entire shift there, he did the right thing and went back to get dressed once he was finished, heading out into the Sun Room on a soldier's heels.

[To here.]

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At first, Tolten had been delighted to hear the word 'shower'. Much as he hated showering rather than a proper bath, he hadn't cleaned himself since arriving here. It was unsanitary! He had imagined - if he had even stopped to think about it - something like what he had experienced on the Nautilus. Narrow metal rooms that sluiced cold (at least in his case, as he was always last) water and made god-awful noises as the pipes rattles and whined.

The concept of showering with other people had never once entered the young king's mind. He had been bathed by nannies and nursemaids when he was a small boy, and perhaps by his mother before that, but from as long as he could manage to wash himself alone he had.

He didn't like people watching him under normal circumstances. He could hardly even eat with a single pair of eyes upon him. There was a...a vulnerability in being watched, even when ding normal, every day things. To be forced to strip and clean himself in full view of fellow prisoners and guards....

"Ah..." he attempted to protest to his escort, the blood draining from his face. "I don't..."

"Don't waste time trying to be modest, get undressed and in the shower." The tone left no room for argument. Torn between his need to do as he was told and follow orders and his fear of exposing himself - literally and metaphorically - he made a strained noise and began to tremble somewhat. The slight sense of purpose and sound footing he'd gained from Anise at breakfast was slipping away rapidly.

It didn't even have anything to do with exposing his body to strangers. Well, not entirely. He had nothing to be ashamed of - he knew he was handsome and well cut and without scars - but it was symbolic.

God's sake, Tolten, you can do this. He just needed to get undressed quickly, get to the nearest empty stall space, and ignore the fact he was in a room full of people. He closed his eyes and methodically stripped off his uniform, slipping into the militaristic movements he had learned as boy. He wasn't a king here, he reminded himself, he was simply a soldier. If his own men showered together in this or a similar manner - and he supposed they did, considering he had seen the steam rooms in the barracks - then he could as well.

But that didn't stop his cheeks from burning red as he awkwardly moved into the showers proper. Despite the fact that only one or two soldiers were even paying attention to him, he felt as though all eyes were on him. He made it to his goal, fumbled rapidly with the faucets, and leaned his head against the tile and under the spray. There he stood, breathing like a man who had just run a marathon.

[free]

Carter had two pins on his hat by the end of breakfast and was disproportionately proud of this fact. Rewards and notability were always nice to have, even from monsters.

As he disrobed and removed his many bandages he looked himself over in the bathroom mirror. The bat bite on his shoulder had receded almost to mere scar tissue, and the cockroach scratches only looked like he'd gotten in a fight with a particularly vicious cat. He grinned to himself, tucked his clothes to the side, and went in for a wash.

"At least the showers are still warm," he said by way of conversation opener to the man next to him. The man had his head against the wall and from his posture seemed to be relaxing into the feel of the warm water. "The food's no good anymore, but it's nice to still have a few little comforts." Venom had scorned his optimism earlier, though Carter privately thought (with uncharacteristic resentment) that Venom hadn't been in a POW camp and didn't know what he was talking about. Nobody here really seemed to understand that the Institute, as horrible as it was, could be an improvement over other places and times.

Except Claire. She was the only one here who really got him and Carter appreciated that fact. Carter hadn't seen her in a while. Maybe he should leave her a little note, let her know how he was doing. She was such a nice girl.

It took a few moments for Tolten to realize he wasn't simply hearing people having conversations around him, he was being spoken to directly.

In the shower.

Tolten straightened up and whipped his head round, wide eyed for a moment before he composed his features into something more akin to general nervousness. Of all the things he had been through, attempting to engage in a normal discussion while in the shower had momentarily leaped ahead of them all in the terror department.

He was well aware this was a normal and relatively simple thing. Just not for him!

"Ah..." he managed. He at least prided himself on the fact that he didn't simply mumble at the floor. But the strange and very amicable man who had taken up position next to him had a point. "I...I'd honestly expected it to be cold," he finally said, after clearing his throat once or twice. "Silly, I suppose, when it's obvious there's warm water...."

But there was good food, too, and he wasn't given access to it. It wasn't mad to think hot water would be some sort of pleasant privilege.

"Please, pardon my...demeanor. I've...never done this before."

"You've never had a hot shower before?" Carter asked, awestruck. "They even have those at prison camps. Where are you from?" Medieval times? When did they start having hot showers? Rural areas, perhaps, his cousin's house didn't even have running water.

He went to scrubbing himself, not caring who was really looking. Even before the army skinnydipping was a fairly common practice when the Bullfrog summers got hot and sticky. It was what you were born with, where was the problem?

"Ah, no...I mean, yes. Just not...in company." Tolten couldn't stop the redness from creeping up his cheeks once more. And his own reaction only furthered his feelings of shame. He was being foolish and childish, but he couldn't adjust his entire world view overnight. The ancestor knew he had tried!

Some muddled part of him knew full well that these things weren't entirely his fault. His youth had been full of criticism and the constant public eye. Everything he had done was watched and dissected and discussed. And then he had been ignored, but the fear of expectations had remained. And now he could barely maintain his composure when a kind and clearly perfectly well adjusted other human being struck up conversation in a less than conventional setting.

At least he'd toughened up some.

"And I'm from Uhra," he went on, forcing himself to get the better of his own nerves. "But I doubt you've heard of it. Oh, no offense meant, simply that no one seems to have." He sighed and leaned into the hot water once more, thankful at least for that. "And actually, now that you mention it...until a year ago or so, no, I never had taken a shower. Only baths."

He was very leisurely in his scrubbing. The showers here weren't rushed, either. Hot water got to be such a rarity in the winter months that you had maybe thirty seconds before the next guy pushed his way in. This was relaxing.

"Oh, it's okay," Carter said dismissively. "I'm from 1943. I haven't heard of most things. But I'm sure it's a real nice place. We don't usually shower together either, unless we're in the army or in prison like this, but you get used to it." He laughed. "I'm just glad they don't make everyone shower together. It'd be pretty embarrassing to be showering around a bunch of girls."

Most of his teammates would have started drooling at such a thought, but Carter had never seen the appeal. It was only being naked, and then if they caught you peeking they'd start up a big fuss and you'd get in trouble. Same thing went for those stag mags they got from home. If you only got one magazine, why would you want article space taken up by some dame in stockings and a short skirt? It seemed a waste.

Tolten's jaw dropped as he listened to the older man. His nervousness and discomfort at community showering was momentarily forgotten as he struggled to understand what he'd just heard.

"Nineteen...Forty Three? As in one thousand, nine and forty three? How many countries are there in your world?" He idea of a world so large...or countries so small! It was unfathomable. And to think that they didn't even have names, only numbers! It was surely the strangest thing the young king had heard in his time here!

The concept of dates numbered by years was a concept so far from Tolten's reality that the possibility didn't even enter his mind.

"As for women, I should thank all the gods that they don't subject us to that!" No power short of a sword to his back could make him bathe nude among women.

"Wh...no!" Carter laughed even harder, shaking off water as he threw his head back. "The year 1943. I'm from America. I mean, I was in Germany before I got here, but I was originally from America." Boy, this guy must be a real hick. Like Carter usually was, confused by Future technology and customs.

All the gods? That was a funny kind of statement to make. It sounded very heathen and pagan. He didn't seem Oriental or from any of those other strange places that worshiped a lot of gods for a lot of things, instead of being very simple and only having the one. Perhaps he was from so far back that Christianity hadn't even been started yet. Ooh, what fun that would be! The future was amazing, but going back in time was pretty amazing too.

The year? Tolten frowned, beginning to methodically go through the actions of cleaning as he tried to make any sense of the words in his head. "Oh. I've heard people here talk about America. I've met other people from there. I don't know about Germany though, I'm sorry."

But he knew enough to know he'd said something remarkably stupid. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, waiting for the wave of embarrassment to pass.

Best to just change the subject, really. Or at least offer up something he was certain of, and couldn't make a fool of himself with.

"My name is Tolten, by the way. I'd say it's past time for introductions, really."

"Sergeant Andrew Carter." Carter dithered over whether he should be bowing or shaking hands, and wound up comprising at a happy little nod of his head. "There's not many people here from Germany. A lot of people from Japan, though, it's pretty funny. I like getting to talk to people from all over the place. If there's anything you want to know about America, I'm your guy to ask!"

Poor confused, backwards guy. The electric lights and guns must confuse him horribly. Fortunately, Carter was eager to come to his aid.

"You're a soldier?" Tolten perked up a touch at that. "And yes, this place does provide an opportunity to broaden ones horizons. Further than most would imagine!" At least he hadn't been surprised by everything in this place. Traveling to other worlds and vast conspiracies centering around human experimentation were rather commonplace for him.

"Goodness, I'd hardly know where to begin! From what I understand, it's a place with no magic whatsoever. I can't even understand how you survive!" He laughed a bit, but there was a nervous touch to it. He really couldn't get his mind around that idea.

"Magic?" It was rude to laugh so much at someone you barely knew but Carter just couldn't stop himself. "You believe in magic?" He leaned against the tiled wall, biting his lip to restrain further giggles. "No, no, that's not right. I guess that's what you believe where you come from but there's really no such thing as magic. It's just science and technology that you don't understand."

He had no idea he was mangling a quote made by an author decades after his time, but it seemed self-evident. Wasn't this always what the primitive natives did? They thought cigarette lighters and radios were magic, and worshiped explorers as gods or tried to kill them for being demons. But as he'd discussed two nights ago, all the strange things at the institute were just technologies that hadn't been invented in his little podunk World War II.

This was the first time that Tolten had encountered anyone who reacted this way to magic! The others had admitted to no personal knowledge of it, but not the impression that it was something silly or unreal. Or removed from science and technology! What else was magic if not a science?

"I believe in magical energy in the sense that I believe in water," he responded, his eyebrows raised. "From what I understand, the power of ellektiks functions in a very similar way. It's natural energy harnessed by man. Of course I understand technology and science. I may be naive, but I'm not some country bumpkin! I am an educated and worldly man." He felt himself bristling - not only had he been insulted, which was perfectly normal, but his beloved county as well! "Uhra has been at the forefront of the Magical Industrial Revolution for decades. Our magic engines put to shame those of both Khent and Gohtza. We engineered the first magical engine powered auto. Portable magic engines! We invented computers for the love of the great ancestor! And I personally have overseen a number of revolutionary engineering and scientific marvels."

No such thing as magic indeed!

"But that's not magic, that's science," Carter protested, frowning. "Magic is...hocus pocus and wizards and things appearing out of nowhere." Admittedly he'd been enthralled by card tricks and slight of hand, but enough time around Newkirk taught him that most of magic was making your target look in the wrong place and then moving your fingers very quickly. He'd lost a lot of petty possessions to that kind of 'magic'.

"And it's not ellektiks, it's electricity. It's just a natural thing like lightning. Magic is something...something different." He had his hackles up slightly. The man was using a lot of big words, words that made lots of sense, but you couldn't just say something was magic. If it was magic it was something impossible and engines and computers were very possible things.

"No, that's magic," Tolten repeatedly, patiently. He had lost his temper and there was no reason for that. He did feel awful for letting his pride get the better of him that way. But there was some ridiculous failure of communication here.

"Yes, wizards. Sorcerers, mages...who else would build these things? And I am very sorry for losing myself like that. It's only that my world is in the middle of truly understanding magical energy's true potential. And my country - the country that I've sworn my life to and fight for - is at the front of this movement. We have had among us the most powerful and knowledgable sorcerers Plank has known. And we have built a thriving civilization on the benefits of magical energy. It is a point of great pride among us."

Perhaps he should simply explain what magical energy was. He ran his hands through his wet hair, clearing it of shampoo. If nothing else, he had rather forgotten he was launching into this while bathing.

"And I apologize for getting wrong the word. I've only just learned it, I'm afraid. Magical energy is a force that exists in all living things, as well as simply in the world around us. Like air. There are talented individuals who can harness that magic to craft and cast spells. There are machines that harness it and turn it into power, either to light and warm cities or to power vehicles or to power even greater machines. Or to allow those of us without the talent to harness it for spell use. We've only learned all of this in the last forty or fifty years, of course...."

Carter kept frowning through the long explanation. He had a tendency to never believe someone was lying until blatant evidence of the lie was pointed out to him. And Tolten seemed like a nice, if primitive guy so Carter saw no reason to think he was lying about his experiences or seriously deluded. He parted his lips several times during the talk, then shut his mouth again and tilted his head in mild confusion.

"I don't know anything about all that," he said slowly, running one slick thumb over his chemical-scarred fingers. "That's nothing like what people call magic back where I come from. Are you sure you're not mistaking something real for magic and just calling it magic when you're doing all that?" He scratched his head. "It's the only thing I can think up. Otherwise it just doesn't make any sense."

This was, without a doubt, the most difficulty Tolten had encountered in both making himself understood and understanding what was being said to him. And he felt horrible, because Sergeant Carter was quite nice, really, and Tolten had no desire to alienate anyone.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Believe me. I..." He what? He had made up his mind to not reveal who he truly was, but it was difficult getting people to take him seriously without some level of authority. And he had already admitted he was involved in high level government ranks...

"I hold the highest position in the Uhran military," he said, feeling happy with that. Technically it was true. The kings of Uhra had always been warrior kings, and he was a consecrated knight. He just never actually had led any armies himself. "I am very knowledgeable about these things. I have used magic engines and magical artifacts myself. No, I really simply think it's a case of your world being nothing at all like mine. Most worlds aren't, it seems. Though Anise was quite familiar with many concepts common to Plank...."

Carter kept making that confused frown, like a cat confronted with a locked door. "I still don't think that can be right....but I guess I don't know about this sort of thing as much as somebody who's more used to this. They do a lot of things here that I couldn't ever do back home." He was trying to find some way of reconciling this with everything he knew to be true and none of it wanted to add up. "This kind of makes my head hurt," he confessed. The Institute didn't exist in a world that went by the rules of 1943, or the rules of Bullfrog, North Dakota.

At that Tolten was able to bring forth an honest smile. "I know how precisely how you feel. There's much I've encountered in these last two days that seems like utter nonsense to me." And he knew there would be more. But sometimes it was fascinating, and even this little snafu seemed to have been cleared up relatively all right.

He hoped.

"We're all very different here, after all, from so many different places..." Which brought him to what he considered a pertinent question. "Though, on that note...is there anyone you know here? I mean, someone you knew from your own home?"

Carter shook his head sadly. "Nobody. Closest I've seen is a guy who was the spitting image of my old kommandant, looking for someone named Harold who looked a lot like me. Heck of a coincidence, but...not the same."

That poor old man. After Carter had stopped laughing at the ridiculousness of being kin to a Klink he'd felt very sorry for him. It must be hard to not know where your relative is and then to get confused and think he's the wrong guy. He hoped the man eventually found Harold and took him home.

Well, at least Tolten wasn't the only one. "I've yet to see anyone who looks familiar," he admitted, biting nervously at his lower lip. "It's strange...most people I've met have a handful for familiar faces stuck here as well. Though...it's only been two days. Oh, I don't know, the whole thing is absurd, really."

Or was when you stopped to think about it. Or when he did, anyway, maybe not for Carter. The other man had mentioned something about a prisoner camp...

"You're an active duty soldier, aren't you? Or were until recently, if I'm correct?"

Carter had to think about that one. He wasn't up on military terminology, hadn't really paid attention in that area of basic training, and nothing in basic training had covered his eventual situation. The Unsung Heroes were pretty unique.

"Sort of," he said, crossing his arms and putting one considering hand to his jaw. "See, my plane--uh, that's a machine that flies using science--got shot down in Germany and I was captured and put in a prison camp. Then I escaped, then I got captured again and wound up at another prison camp, Stalag 13. So the official story is that I was a POW." His life sounded remarkably complicated once it was summed up.

Carter grinned as he got around to the good part of the story. "But the thing is, we're actually running an underground sabotage and spy organization out of the camp, and helping prisoners from other camps escape. I was the demolitions man because I'm so good with bombs. So I was actually really active duty, it's just nobody knew about it but us."

"Really?" Tolten's tone conveyed how impressed he was. That was a dangerous and noble thing to do! Right under the enemy's eyes and ears...

"You have my deepest respect, Sergeant," the young king went on, rather quietly. He didn't even bother pointing out that he knew what an airship was. But all of this did inform rather nicely into Tolten's next question. He wasn't certain how to brooch the subject, exactly, if there was any sort of etiquette he needed follow....

Well, best just dive in.

"What do you do here at night?"

Carter beamed under Tolten's compliments. What a thing to say, and from a big military man too. Colonel Hogan got a lot of respect for their work but it rarely trickled down to Carter.

"It varies," he said, still riding on the glow of actual respect. "I fight a lot of monsters, and there's plenty of people here who need protecting from them. Sometimes it's just exploring. We went up to the Mines two nights ago, but I didn't see anything there but rats." More chin scratching. "I've heard people talking about going on different missions, or working with the clubs, but so far I haven't done one."

"How do you find people who need protection?" Tolten sighed and turned to Carter, struggling to put his thoughts and feelings into order and words.

"I am coming into a weapon tonight," he went on, voice lowered so the sound of water and conversation would keep it between them. "And I fear I have little skills other than that of a soldier. It is...all I've known outside of my father's house." All truth, though carefully worded. "I do not wish to sit idly by, but I am still rather new to this place. I understand the monsters that come out and the things that happen at night and I am confident I can meet them. I wish to offer my services to those who need it...."

Yes, he had heard all about the clubs as well. But they were well established, and Tolten knew how difficult it was to integrate oneself into an established group.

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