damned_institute | Night 41: M81-M90 Hallway

S.T. woke in a rush from a dream involving playing referee to a wrestling match involving two topless girls and a leviathan-sized octopus waiting for a rematch with the Nautilus or the world's largest deep-fryer and dish of butter sauce. His fingers were in his mouth and he was trying to whistle, when the intercom took over the job.

He'd slept through dinner, and the smell of uneaten fish hung in the air. That explained the dreams, at least the parts involving sea life and condiments. He made short work of the potatoes and asparagus, washing them down with the ubiquitous and still-over-chlorinated, now-lukewarm tap water.

Opening the closet doors let out a gentle wave of aromatic brewing by-products; the beer was progressing. He picked up one small bottle without agitating the breadcrumbs off the bottom, and poured a small amount into the glass. Looked like beer, smelled like beer, tasted like flat beer and stale bread. He screwed the caps down on all of them, since it seemed like the time for explosions had passed.

Then he hunted down his toolbox and repacked. The syringes went back in the trash can, labeled and sorted. A spare t-shirt went in the toolbox, pre-emptive protection against bottle-rattling. The flashlight got a new layer of tape, and the glass cleaner went in its holster. Everything ship-shape, which meant it was time to shove off.

[to here]

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Tim thought for a minute. This whole thing just got worse and worse.

At least he had something to focus on, a job to do. Yeah, they had to get out of here. But first, they had to actually have a plan. Just getting past the guards wasn't going to be enough, from what he'd heard about it.

"All right," he said, and straightened up. His voice was back to normal, no more overemotional teenager, no more uncertainty. He was Robin, after all. He had a job to do, and for now he had a team to lead - at least in his own eyes.

"You know what we have to do? First, I want to see the patient records. Yours, mine, Bart's, anyone we know is here, I want a record. Then we have to get to the pharmacy. There has to be some way to determine trace elements, what they're using to dope everyone. They're not giving anyone pills, so it doesn't make sense. But we're not getting out of here if we don't get answers; that much is clear."

It was a relief to hear Robin finally sounding normal again. Maybe Kon should feel a little bad about that - normally he'd be happy to see that Robin could be a normal guy when he wanted to be but he hadn't exactly been acting that normal. Mostly he was just happy to see Robin figuring out what could be wrong with his TTK and how to get them out of here.

He nodded along with the plan, trying to think of something to add. He didn't have a map so he didn't know where that stuff would be but Robin wouldn't have said anything if he didn't have some idea of how to find it. There was one thing - "OK, but the records could be hard. I dunno what they call Bart here."

Should he check up on Kurt before they went anywhere? He should be all healed by now and maybe he could come with them. That way they could make sure he'd be OK and he'd useful to have around. It didn't look like Bart was going to show but he had said he had other stuff to do tonight. Kon didn't know what that was but Bart could probably take care of himself. He'd been doing alright so far. But Kurt would probably still freak out over being seen, which meant he should come with them so they could make him see he'd fine.

"We should be able to find his somehow anyway. I want to check up on Kurt first but."

Tim pulled the map he'd copied from Jaime out of his pocket and studied it for a minute. "We're a long way from anywhere important," he said, slightly irritated by that fact. Well, they'd manage.

Kon made a valid point, of course. He'd heard the nurse call Raphael something else, so it stood to reason that not everyone got called by their actual name. Why he was an exception, he had no idea.

"What do the nurses call you?" Tim asked, genuinely curious. He was willing to be it wasn't Conner Kent.

They certainly didn't have time to go through all the files. But they could start with their own and see where it took them.

"All right, we can check on Kurt."

[ooc: God I've been so slow, I'm sorry. I figure since NS is officially over, they can be interrupted by the bleeding walls or something?]

"Hey, you were the one who dragged me back here," Kon pointed out. His room was way closer to stuff so it was Robin's fault for making him come all the way here instead of just borrowing someone else's room for a bit.

Before he could say anything else - about what they called him here or what else they'd told him about this Caleb guy he was supposed to be - a thick fog flooded the room, making it impossible to see Robin even though he was only a few feet away. Startled, Kon moved towards where Robin had been, calling out hesitantly, "Rob?"

This hadn't happened before and it was.... worrying. Not frightening but unsettling. As he tried to reach Robin, his foot slipped in something on the floor and, still too used to being able to just rise up into the air to catch himself, Kon stumbled against the wall.

His hands came away wet with something warm and sticky that he was sure hadn't been there before. He brought them in close to his face so he could actually see what was on them, staring uncomprehendingly at the red liquid for several long moments. When he finally realised what it was, Kon shoved himself away from the wall as fast as he could, yelling in shock and horror.

[Don't sweat it, I haven't been too speedy myself. They'll have plenty of time to flail at each other later.]

The fog came in so suddenly that Tim didn't have a chance to notice it before it filled the entire room. He could hear Kon calling him, sounding further away than Tim knew he was.

What the hell, how was there fog inside?

"Just don't move," he called out. He knew where Kon was, of course, unless he'd moved. But knowing Kon, he might have. Well, it was just a room, not a whole city. If they just stayed calm...

But why was Kon yelling like that? What was going on here?!

"Kon! Kon, are you okay?" he asked, though it sounded slightly more desperate than he'd have liked. Even if it was weird and they weren't the same, Kon was still Kon, and Tim couldn't stand the thought of something happening while he just stood there.

Ignoring his own advice to stay put, he moved toward where Kon had been standing before, keeping one hand out since he couldn't actually see anything. The fog smelled weird, and there was some other smell that was familiar, but that his brain refused to place.

His hand brushed the wall, and he stopped. The wall was wet. Warm.

Oh god it smells like blood in here. Someone is bleeding.

"KON!"

Night 41: M81-M90 Hallway

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