damned_institute | Nightshift 44: Men's Bathrooms (M01-M40)

Into the bathroom Bart went, with Hart flailing behind him, pushing forward and into a stall with just enough time to hit his knees again before loosing his dinner.

It was a good number of minutes past the dry-heaving stage that he finally shifted, slumping back against a divider wall. He frowned and wiped his mouth off on his sleeve. No necking for him tonight. The man needed some heavy duty mouthwash.

"I-I'm fine."
Mostly.

Rather than cat back to something that wasn't there, Hart rolled his eyes, biting his words back.

"Sorry I broke on you like that. Call you--" Barely upright ahead, he stepped back out, still undone by the sight of the younger Allen before him. "--a sight for sore eyes?" He offered up a weary smile, arms crossed around his middle again, like a poor attempt to keep him from doubling and slumping back to the ground.

Listening to someone be violently sick hadn't exactly done much to restore Bart's equilibrium, and he was still feeling jittery when Piper finally left the stall.

"Don't worry about it," he said with an off-kilter grin, keeping his distance for the moment in case Piper decided to be sick again. "Um...are you feeling better now?" Bart hoped so, and not just because that? Had been seriously gross.

He had a feeling he and Piper had a lot of things to talk about.

"Better...isn't the word I'd use, but it's less as bad as before." he gave a dry chuckle, raking a hand back through his hair before he returned to his cross-armed stance. The settled awkwardness was stifling.

Do I have to do this myself? C'mon, Pipey. Break the ice. You're the social butterfly, here.

Hart swallowed, attempting to down the lump in his throat (it really doesn't help with that horrible taste in his mouth). "Thank you though. I...suppose this warrants a proper introduction though."

Giving his hands a once-over (they're clean. clean enough, anyway.), he offers one Bart's way. "I know you. Or at least I think I do. Or did." Time travel is confusing. Damn you Booster Gold! --you make it look so easy!

"If you say so." This, at least, put Bart on somewhat more solid footing. He grinned and took Piper's hand, giving it a firm, but not too fast or too slow shake, just like Max had taught him. So those bizarre etiquette lessons had a use after all!

"I know you too," he said, though Piper's hesitance made him a little thoughtful. "We met last year, when Grandma Iris brought me back from the future to meet Wally." He frowned slightly in distaste; it was obvious that the bad feelings caused by that first meeting still lingered.

Seems their respective 'lasts year's' were turning points for both of them. If Hart gave a hard mental squint, he could remember Bart's appearance to them all, buried in all of the stress of Kobra running around like an idiot, tossing his followers around like confetti to get in their way.

It had nearly worked.
Nearly.

Hart gave back a decent enough shake, trying hard not to assume his earlier, more withdrawn position after they break. He wasn't sure what to exactly do with himself though, finding himself more apt to stare at Bart's feet than his face.

...god, that kid has big feet.
To keep the voice quiet, he looked back up, eyes generally focused on the smiley, smack in the middle of his chest.

"We did, didn't we?" he nodded slowly, a nervous smile pushing out. "Is it...okay if we sit while we talk? I'm still feeling a little shaky."

"Oh, sure!" Right, because most people didn't just recover from things like injuries or illness right away. Flustered, Bart all but pushed Piper down to the ground, kneeling over him in a distinctly mother hen-like way.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, concerned. "You didn't eat anything weird or something, did you?"

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html#comments)]

Any dramatic entrance Scourge intended on making was ruined by the horrific, indescribable reek of the bathroom. It was worse than the spider, it made Scourge want to purge his tanks at the first whiff--a momentary consultation with his fleshy mindparts established that 'purged tank' was exactly what it was. Scourge stumbled, gagging, one hand pressed up to cover his nose and mouth until his sensors settled themselves down to a more manageable level.

And there was Piper, pressed to the ground and looking far too feeble beneath someone (or something--with Landel's and with such a bad smell Scourge wouldn't lay energon on it definitely being human) who was far too small to have gotten him into that position by pure weight. Scourge snapped his blade forward, his other hand raised in a fist, ready to be the valiant army to Piper's menaced citadel.

"Back away from Piper. Slow," he growled, taking a step towards the human-like entity and tensing himself to react to whatever bizarre attack he or it might make. "Or I'll make a mess that the showers won't clean up."

Well geez. Wasn't this the way it always was--? The world tilts off and spins into a debilitating oblivion, only to have itself crashed through my something so off-the-wall, you didn't have any choice BUT to buck up and try to fix it.

And in immediate retrospect, this really didn't look good in Bart's favor, did it?

"A-ah! No! Scourge! Down boy! S-sit!"
It was the first thing that came to his mind, really.

Hart shoved out his hands, waving them in the closest attempt at a 'nooooooo' he could manage, as he tried to crawl out from under Bart's lean over him.

"--he's good, Scourge!" Bad idea. "--he's with me!" Try again. "--we know each other!"

"...Huh?"

Geez, just when you think you might maybe start to have a handle on the situation, some crazy Asian guy barges in and starts waving a knife at you. Okay, so that had never actually happened to Bart before, but it was the principle of the thing.

Instinctively putting himself between the Asian guy and Piper, Bart bristled at the idea that he was any kind of threat to his friend. Though Piper seemed to know him, so maybe it was just a misunderstanding or something. "Since when do you hang out with crazy guys with knives?" he asked Piper over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the Asian guy in case he decided not to back off after all. And how long had Piper actually been in the institute anyway...? It might have been longer than Bart had first thought, if he was already making, er...whatever this guy was to him.

"I'm not crazy!" He hadn't even said anything this time and already he was just assuming he was--oh, right. Um.

Scourge lowered the blade with an expression of intense awkwardness and a shuffling of feet, his other hand still pressed across his nose. Okay, so maybe he'd misjudged the situation. The night made him anxious. "You looked like you were hurting him, okay?" he said defensively. "Why are you even in here, this place smells like Unicron's guts." Not that he knew what they smelled like, but it was the most disgusting place he could think of on short notice.

Crazy Asians with knives, huh? Hart didn't think he knew any of those--not unless you counted (his) Wally's wife, linda, while making dinner. That woman could be scary when she wanted to be.

He didn't bother getting back to his feet--he was down for a reason after all, and made a grab for Bart, trying to tug him back down as well.

"First off, no one is hurting anyone." he calmly explained (as calmly as one could in a potential knife fight), settled back against the coolness of the wall. "--and to ensure that, both of you sit down before someone hurts themselves, okay?"

Hold it. Hold it... --okay, sigh. Everything is going to be fine.
Time to answer the questions in turn though...

"Bart--this is Scourge. He's...well--" A giant robot. "--he's okay. We're--" TRICKY! "--friends. I met him today. We're..." AWKWARD! "--in the Evil Club. Erm...hosting for evil, reformed, and non-evil alike. It's...yeah." Let's drop that one, shall we?

"Scourge--" He passed back only a mildly exasperated look, ushering the other man closer. "--this is Bart. And it smells so godawful because I freaked out and made myself sick. I just finished throwing up dinner. Not the most pleasant of experiences."

"You don't need to tell me that nobody's hurting anyone," Bart grumbled, reluctantly allowing himself to be pulled down to the floor, though he was still keeping an eye on Scourge.

Or at least he was, until Piper distracted him. "The...'Evil Club?'" he said, awkwardly turning around to give Piper a skeptical look. "What have you been doing? How long have you been here, anyway?" Might as well get that question answered, before Bart got anymore confused.

"Ewwwww." Scourge shuddered, doing a fair impression of a nine-year-old. Not that he hadn't had the urge himself some nights but yuck. What would it look li--no, scratch that, he didn't want to think about any aspect of it. Moving on!

"Evil Club's just some weird thing Piper started up on the bulletin board with me, Lord Recluse and Abe." Whoever Abe was. "I think we're about as much about Evil as the Cooking Club is about cooking. If you're taking it seriously you're definitely not a member of the club."

His nose had gotten somewhat adjusted to the stench by now and Scourge lowered his hand. The disgusted expression still hadn't left his face. "Not that I'm not liking how much it glitches up the shiny-polished good guys when they see bad guys actually enjoying themselves for once and can't do anything about it."

"Evil Club..." Even after Scourge has finished, he looked back to the man warily.

Rule number one of Evil Club; You don't talk about Evil Club.
James. Shut UP.

He passed the glance back to Bart and sighed, attempting to explain. "--we do have an evil overlord in the group, but Abe's with us to, and from what he said, he just got off a stint with the good team, I'm reformed. And Scourge here..." He blinked, staring at the man.

Rule number two of Evil Club; You don't talk about Evil Club.
HURM. Nevermind. Back to Bart.

"--aside from medicating boredom with--" Vicious flirtations. Shenanigans.
"--conversation, we're pretty much harmless. We've passed some ideas about what to do within the institution as far as the staff, but not anything detrimental toward the patients at all." That at much was completely honest, and luckily for Hart, though he still looked a bit green in the gills, at least he was speaking without stuttering, sitting up a bit straighter as he spoke.

Considering that Bart was a good guy, it wasn't too surprising that he didn't jump to take Scourge at his word. But then there was Piper's explanation, and...well...if you couldn't trust the Pied Piper to be decent to his fellow man, who could you trust?

Poor Bart. If only he knew.

"Have you been hanging out with the Trickster or something?" Bart finally asked, with a grin and a shake of his head. "That sounds like the kind of thing he'd come up with." Especially the part about harassing the staff. Bart could just imagine him trying to pull the toaster repairman trick on one of the nurses, and who knew? He might just have been able to pull it off. Assuming he found different clothes somewhere.

"So what are you supposed to be, then?" he asked, turning back to Scourge. "Their henchman or something?" This said while he was still sitting on the floor, practically in Piper's lap, mind. Somebody apparently didn't mind too much if they pissed off the crazy guy with the knife, though to be fair Bart's tone didn't really sound malicious.

"Lord Recluse's henchman. I just like Piper because...well, he's a fun sort of guy." Piper didn't really seem the type one henched to, anyway. Partnered with for zany schemes, but he didn't have that evil overlord personality needed to gather minions.

Having no scabbard or subspace pocket, Scourge swung his blade up to rest on his shoulders. He leaned against the far wall, one leg folded across the other. The floor didn't smell trustworthy enough to sit on. "He gets what it's like, being all evil but not really." 'It' being some nebulous concept building up to technically being a villain while having no real evil objectives or doing anything more evil than not dying and making a nice profit while doing so. Scourge was less than verbose.

Trickster? James?
The second the name left Bart, he received something damn close to a thousand-yard-stare.

It took him through all of Scourge's reply before his thoughts had resolidified enough to make conversation.

"A-ah...no, no one's a henchmen here. We're may lean toward a common leader, but no one is under anyone else's thumb." Ever for equality, even under stress, that was a part of him unlikely to crack.

He never attempted to correct Bart about James, though. Not a word more unless the young man felt it absolutely necessary to bring the man around into conversation himself. Otherwise...

"But can I get some word at least that the two of you won't go to blows right now? No one here's done anything wrong." At least they hadn't at this rough and tumble round table.

Sitting practically in Piper's lap as he was, Bart noticed the stare, and it earned Piper a curious look. What was that all about? Did it have to do with his question about Trickster? Bart would have liked to ask, buuut...Talking about supervillains in the general sense seemed okay, but actually catching up with Piper in front of a stranger? Something seemed a little off about that idea.

No doubt Max or Robin would have had a full-length lecture lined up for a situation like this. And, like, a powerpoint presentation or something. Bart would just have to use his best judgment, such as it was, and right now his best judgment was telling him to let Piper's weird reactions go, for the moment. There wasn't any rush, after all; they could just easily catch up tomorrow, if they didn't manage to lose the henchman tonight.

Yes, he was already thinking of Scourge as a henchman. He had that henchy look; Bart could definitely imagine him as part of a small crowd of theme-costumed bad guys ganging up on him while some self-styled evil overlord stood in the background and laughed. Or maybe he'd be a little higher up the minion hierarchy; definitely not a second-in-command, but close to the top. Maybe the guy the threadbare second when to when the evil overlord got a little too punch-happy...But that wasn't important right now.

Bart shrugged. "I thought I was defending myself from a crazy guy with a knife," he reminded them both. He looked up at Scourge, expression unavoidably earnest. "Are you planning to do that again any time soon...?"

"Not crazy," Scourge grumbled through gritted teeth. "But no, I'm not. I just get a bit twitchy at night and you were standing all threatening at Piper." While being even shorter than Scourge and acting in the most friendly of fashions. It had been an honest mistake!

"Who are you, anyway?" Piper had mentioned he was 'Bart', but that was a human name and told him nothing. Bart hadn't attacked him or condemned him like most good guys, but Piper had called him one and Scourge was guessing he needed to keep any mentions of being evil on the down-low. Beyond that, it was just a human. "To Piper, I mean. You guys come from the same place?"

Hart missed the look Bart gave him, but with the young man nearly in a sprawl against him, a mild nervousness took him over--and with hands settled on the floor at his sides, they stepped up to Bart's shoulders, and finally up into the youngster's bushy hair, slightly massaging the other's scalp as he ran his fingers through the mess.

"We're..." The scritchies paused as he mulled over the terms to use. Messy business this all was.

"--I think displaced is the proper term."
I'll show -you- a proper term, bend ov--
Not NOW. Be an adult for Christsakes.

"I'm...not precisely sure per say, but I think we're from the same world. Or have a good chance of it anyway. He's just from earlier in the woodworks than I am. By a few years by my estimate."

"I didn't say you actually were crazy," Bart grumbled right back. "Just that I thought you were. I don't have a problem with you at all, as long as you're not pointing a knife at me."

He might have gone on, but then Piper performed his most distracting act yet: he gave Bart head-scritchies. And they felt sooo good...No! Focus, Bart! Focus on the people! Saying things!

What were they talking about? Something about places, times...oh, right! The whole multiple universes thing, only Piper seemed to think they were from the same one after all. Only he came from a point on the timeline when Bart was dead.

This wasn't a good time to talk about it, with Scourge watching, so Bart leaned into Piper just a little, just to show he was listening. And they were definitely going to talk about this later. In the meantime, more head-scritchies, please?

Piper was getting kind of cuddly there with Bart. It looked like another one of the human's "hugs", which made Scourge feel irrationally jealous. Why did a good guy get hugs too? What had he done to deserve it?

"I think we had the same problem with Starscream. The one here's from right before I was created, so he's got no idea who I am or why I want to torture him until his vocalizer shorts."

Scourge grinned, remembering that fleeting moment of glory he'd earned for attacking the traitor on his own and the outraged squawks he'd made as Scourge clawed up his legs. "It's actually kind of funny seeing him get so confused. He still thinks he's leader of the Decepticons."

He hadn't seen Starscream around recently, as it happened. Maybe he'd been eaten by a monster or brainwashed into submission by the institution--Scourge found either option a fitting end as long as Starscream didn't come back and haunt him again.

Bart got cuddles because Hart needed physical contact of the nice variety NOW. It helped that it was a Fun Size Bart too. While all Barts were nice, the tiny ones made Hart's paternal instincts rocket off the charts. Combine the two facets and it just made him grabby.

Hence such, scritchies continued in generous helpings.

It put him at greater ease that Bart and Scourge weren't trying to kill one another.
Yet.
Shut up.

--but regardless of how nice everyone was playing, Hart was still...on edge. Heck, how could he not be? Bart was alive! He could fix everything so long as he could keep a close eye on the speedster! And if Bart hadn't raced him standard-style to the bathrooms...

Did that mean that he couldn't run here? --like how the robots weren't robots and how recluse lost his spider limbs? maybe Hart's case of hearing wasn't such an isolated incident after all. The other Wally was here as well and he hadn't run -anyone- in circles. Huh.

But with Bart on the brain, with a glance down, Hart noticed something more than a little worrisome.

"Bart!" Conversation derailed. "--what happened to your arms?!"

It was like watching a steel trap slam shut -- or maybe a puppy get shot. The happy, nearly blissed-out expression on Bart's face vanished, along with his relaxed posture, and were replaced by a tense flinch that carried him away from Piper's chest and nearly out of his lap altogether, while his face could only be described as haunted.

His scars. How had he forgotten about that? Of course Piper would want to know about them, his lower arms and palms were only covered in the stupid things!

"I..." Fell on some broken glass. It wasn't as though Piper would know any better, right?

But Bart would know, and he was done trying to lie about this. Hadn't that been the whole point of his little episode with Tim the night before, to get to the truth of this? He flinched again, curling in on himself as he turned back to face Piper.

"I was taken upstairs a few nights ago, for one of the sleep studies." Wait, had Piper even heard about those yet?

"Slag..."

Scourge drew in air through his teeth, fingers clenching around the crude hilt of his weapon. He knew what Bart was talking about. Vaguely. Bits and pieces overheard and those bits were more than he wanted to know because he'd tried to avoid thinking about how it might be him one of these nights tied down and sliced open.

He looked at Piper, his expression far more nervous now. "The guys running this place, sometimes they take a handful of people away during the night and do things to them. Nasty stuff. I think it's experiments or something, trying to take us apart and figure out what makes us tick." Bart had gone through that and come out alive and sane, it seemed, but the scars on his arms didn't make it look fun.

Scourge's shoulders curled inward, a barricade against the encroaching darkness. His lips twisted in a scowl. "Or they just do it for fun. Who knows?"

"--someone did this to you?!" Congratulations, you've roused the mama bear. The paternal is what you get when the man is feeling protective. The ursine is what you get when he's feeling protective and murderous.

Monsters were one thing.
Torturing for kicks was another. Hart was going to have someone's balls for this.

However, before he could do that--sadly there were many a more preparations he had to take into consideration. Obviously he'd discovered that his use to the Search and Rescue team would be nil until he knew his way around. Recluse would help with that, passing him a map. Hart already had a weapon and had more than his fair share of survival skills.

Hobo-sexual, Hartley!
SHUT. UP. NOT NOW.

"I--" Teeth gritted, he had to take a moment to wash everything back down, to gain some sense of tranquility.

It's barely passable, but he continues anyway.

"--you won't go back there, Bart." He combed his fingers through Bart's brunette mop, just a gentle continuation of his earlier pettings. "Not on my watch."

Bart had been expecting questions, the need to come up with some kind of explanation. And he would have given one, if Piper had asked. No matter how painful he found even thinking about the entire experience even now, several day later, he would given a full account.

Not being required to do so -- especially after the grueling confession he'd given Tim, just the night before -- was a relief that Bart wasn't sure he knew how to handle. So he...didn't.

Wrapping his arms into Piper's chest, he crawled completely into the other man's lap, holding tightly to stave off a creeping case of the shakes. Bart didn't see what Piper could do to actually protect him, but wasn't it the thought that was supposed to count...?

That strange little angry feeling came up in the back of Scourge's head again, so out of place in the fearful situation that it took him a moment to recognize it as jealousy. Nobody held him like he was a weak little minibot and Scourge's dignity liked it that way, but the protectiveness...that sort of defensive aggression-on-his-behalf was enviable.

Cyclonus did it for Galvatron, and for him when he needed it. All the chocolate cake in the institute hadn't filled the lingering need for a wingmate to back him up and speak out for him.

"They probably won't want him again, if they've already poked at him," Scourge offered quietly. "Just saying." It was more for Piper's sake than Bart's. He didn't even know Bart.

Would Piper make a good wingmate? He had a good mindset, he was protective of his own, he was bad enough to be fun but not cruel enough to be scary. He wouldn't be Cyclonus, but he'd do.

He certainly didn't enjoy seeing Bart wrecked like this, but it gave part of him needed closure. One chapter of his life had ended, no questions asked. This was the new verse--a little bit louder and a little bit worse. It also helped in that someone elses turmoil helped him focus his own out of the picture. So long as Hart was busy, he couldn't dwell.

Thank the New Gods.

"Regardless," It was a stern, nearly commanding tone despite its lack of volume. "--monsters? zombies? If anything, the last thing any of us should be doing is going out anywhere at night alone. No one should have to suffer in this place. Not you--" he passed to Scourge. "--not me. Not Bart."

Dawww. Papa Hart. That'd be cute. You know. If you weren't queerer than a three dollar bill.
When we're all out of this, I'll drown myself to shut you up, I swear to god.

"Scourge, if you're willing, since Recluse seems to be partnered with with Statesmen for the runs, would you have any issues coming along to make same runs with me?"

Even though he didn't see how Piper could seriously protect him, especially since Bart doubted he had any of his sonics guns or other gadgets with him, it was hard resist the feeling of safety that came with being held. And then there was Piper's tone of voice...come to think of it, had he ever really heard Piper sound like that before? Wally was usually the one calling the shots when it came to saving the day, though Linda had also been known to take charge in a crisis.

Just how many things had changed, between the time Bart knew, and Piper's time...?

For the moment, he stayed snuggled close, though he was listening carefully as Piper talked. Having Scourge along could make things kind of complicated if they ran into trouble, but Bart could hardly mention it with the man standing right there. And while he wasn't certain he knew what Piper had in mind, it wasn't as though he'd had any idea what to do with himself tonight.

What was that strange feeling inside him, that stirring and fluttering of sensation? Probably residual nausea from the smell, but still.

"Just you and me? Partnered up?" Scourge asked, trying to hide his hopefulness. "Watching each other's backs and all that kind of thing? Yeah!" Bad hiding, Scourge. "I mean, sure. It'd make us more effective, too. I can get you a weapon, and I know where everything is, and maybe we can get your flute back and we'll be a good team."

He stepped over and sat down on the ground next to the pair, legs pulled up towards his chest. Not quite intruding into the hug-space, but obviously eager for Piper to give him more approval.

Maybe Piper had a partner back then as well, maybe he needed a wingmate too. Scourge didn't know why he hadn't thought of the idea sooner.

Weapon...weapon...
Huh. Where had his pipe gone to?

Hart gave a quick, glancing sweep of the room and spotted the thing nearly clear across to the other wall. He'd have dropped it in the rush in, and it was no wonder it had rolled so far. He'd have to break it to Scourge that he already -had- a weapon, but wasn't it the thought that counted?

Unfortunately(?), despite the pressed gravity of the situation, Scourge's energy is contagious.

"Two is always better than one. And I know Bart knows how to fight. --because I'm not leaving him behind." He gave the little speedster a small reassuring squeeze of a hug, his chin rested over the younger's head.

"But partners..." He's smiled plenty of times today, but in the dark of the night, it felt like it had been ages. It felt good to have it back. "--I think I can handle that." One arm around Bart, he offered the other hand to Scourge. Shake on it?

Finally sitting up a little and shaking himself out of his Piper!hug-induced reverie, Bart watched the two men make their agreement, with only the briefest of skeptical looks crossing his face, which he took pains to conceal. It wasn't as though he actively disliked Scourge; it'd just be awkward to fight around someone who didn't already know about his secret identity. But if this was how Piper wanted it...

"Sure, I can deal with a tag-along."

Scourge ignored the suggestion of a handshake. He knew the gesture, but wingmates shouldn't handshake like they were making some kind of deal, they were above that sort of thing. Metaphorically, if they lacked wings, but above it.

Instead, he scooted across the floor and shifted his body so as to nudge Piper's hand up and over his shoulders, negotiating himself into a one-armed hug. Now he understood Piper's hugs properly, it had just been the cultural differences that kept him from catching on to the proposition earlier.

Besides. It was nicer this way. Not quite as intimate as being created simultaneously from a pair of matched corpses, but one had to make concessions to the drawbacks of being organic.

With the nudge, Hart caught on quickly and put his arm around the other, drawing him in some with hand rested along the curve of Scourge's far shoulder.

Deep breath, he coached himself. He still wasn't alone.
No more falling to pieces, okay? Look, you've gotta look out for him. --and not just because Wally would have your ass over it. So to speak.
This time he didn't mind so much.

--but a robot. Really, Hart? I thought you had better taste than that.
Or so he thought.

Though, with the actualization of being a part of a team again, it was time to stop dragging in the role of the victim (as true and well placed as it may have been) and time to stand firm. There were people out there who needed help, and being able-bodied (--of 'sound mind' was a title he wasn't about to pretend he could wear yet), they were duty-bound to do something about it. Not because anyone was 'good' or 'bad', but because they were all in here together, pitted against something bigger and crueler than they could ever be. Human or otherwise, they had a right to live, and whoever this Landel bastard was--he was infringing on that.

Time to kick ass.

"I should be getting a map of this place in the morning. Between that and your experience--" That comment is left open to mean either of them. "--we should have an excellent grasp of the place. I'll leave a message out to Abe to see what he thinks of all of it, but would either of you two object to meeting up for breakfast? After--" he gave a quiet, albeit dry chuckle. "--nerves have settled of course."

After giving Piper one last hug -- since he figured they both could probably use it -- Bart grinned and all but literally bounced to his feet. Snuggling was nice and all, but he was ready to do something, despite the ball-and-chain Piper had apparently adopted, innuendo entirely unknown and unintended.

"I have no problem with meeting up tomorrow, but what are we going to do tonight?" he asked, definitely looking to Piper. Face it, Hart; you're the Man with the Plan. And you've got a hyperactive speedster on your hands, even if he does seem more subdued that he should have been at this age. Think fast.

Scourge stayed seated next to Piper, slipping one hand around to rest on his wingmate's hip. He was completely fine with just sitting on the bathroom floor for the rest of the night. As opposed to walking around, of course, if someone had a different place to sit that wasn't made of hard tile and smelling like purge he'd be all for it.

"You guys heard Landel, right? It sounds like he's keeping a pretty close eye on our communications. If we're going to make plans, we better do it while he and his cronies can't find us." He smirked, holding up his free hand and rubbing his fingers together in a shifty, roguish fashion. "And I know where chemical storage is, if we're going to be bombing anything."

Damn, Landel would be reading their plans on that too. "We should probably work out some kind of code to get stuff in under the radar, too. There's a few people here who know 'con script, but I'm guessing you two aren't amoung them."

"Music--" Hart replied swiftly, perking up some. "--I can code in sheet music. The code would be easy enough to teach to you and wouldn't have to rely on the given names for the notes, so it would be harder for others to figure out."

Plans. Of course. Time to up and move. --shame though, despite the smell (it wasn't that bad, there were far worse smelling things in the world), he was actually rather cozy now. Human (relatively speaking) contact did wonders for the mood.

"And going for chemicals now would be absolutely brilliant." He said, giving Scourge a slight nudge at the shoulder, which meant 'you offered, pony up'.

"And maybe--" Standing, Hart knew he was on a roll. So many ideas sprang to mind so quickly--it was all brilliant! "--my hearing's off, but I'm sure I'll be able to pull something together sonic-wise. After all--we have those radios, right? If I could only get my hands on the tools to take it apart, I'm sure I could whip up something useful."

Far steadier than before, he strode across the room to retrieve his fallen pipe, turning it over in his hands. "So if either of you have any suggestions, questions or comments, are their any objections to hitting said closet before returning to one of our rooms?"

"What kind of tools?" Bart asked, getting caught up in Piper's enthusiasm. This was probably just what he'd needed; somebody to give him some direction, some kind of purpose, without being a jerk about it. Piper was nice. He could work with Piper.

Shame they had to bring Scourge along, but oh well. At least he was good for something.

"There's a utilities closet upstairs," he said, thinking back to the map he'd seen on the bulletin board...which would probably be taken down by tomorrow. Good thing Piper had a copy coming. "We could look around, as long as we're up there...And the patients possessions room is close, too." He grinned. "We could check for your flute, too."

He was started to shift his weight from foot to foot, just shy of bouncing in place. Someone was eager to get moving.

Oh, is that what that pipe was about? It was far too inferior a weapon for his new wingmate, Scourge would have to see about getting him a blade to match his flute. Maybe a bladed flute. That would rock.

"I can try and hear for you, if you need me to," he said, eager now to find some way of being helpful. He was practically beaming as he got to his feet. "Not sure what my wavelength detection threshold is in this body but it's gotta be better than a human's."

Something actually happening! And plans! And...Scourge hadn't felt so excited in days (months, if you restricted it just to excitement over diabolical plans). Piper seemed to have a knack for bringing that out in him.

Scourge--good lord, he was a sweetie. Sometime soon, Hart needed to sit him down and give him the full talk on how his 'powers' really worked--from perception, to action, and back again. It...could almost be considered some kind of a feedback loop, but again, that was for another time.

"I'll be fine as far as hearing goes right now. Might get a little jumpy in the halls, but frayed nerves can be dealt with, right?"

Here's to hoping!
Well my god. I'm so glad to have your approval.
--is that sarcasm I'm sensing, Piper? Are you being smug?
Wouldn't you like to know~

"--just so long as we get there fast--" He tucked the pipe under an arm for a moment, retrieving his flashlight from its place jammed halfway into his coat pocket. Returning back to the balance of pipe for one hand, flashlight to the other, Hart mused that he felt an awful lot like an officer ready to raid a drug den or something. Usually the sort to leave his capture to the Flash, he didn't exactly know how officers handled themselves in a raid, but he'd seen enough on television to know how they snuck around and held their flashlights.

It was sort of thrilling.
Here's to holding that he didn't run into anything too bonechilling.

"Actually," he tapped the butt of his flashlight against the door. "--Scourge, can you lead? Bart will take after you and I'll bring up the rear."

And James, don't you even.
Eheh~ My lips are sealed, loverboy.

"Why am I in the middle?" Bart asked, giving Piper an exasperated look and mouthing 'what are you doing?' while Scourge wasn't looking. He was the speedster; he should be on point! Even though his powers weren't working right, he was still faster than anyone else here! -- Even if he couldn't really use his powers as long as Scourge was watching, because of that whole stupid secret identity thing...

Oh, so this was why working with people outside the hero community was a bad idea...Bart had always kept to himself or worked in small teams before, so he hadn't realized.

Leading his allies back to important things he'd found, now this was the sort of thing he'd been born to do!

...no, really. It was right there in his core programming, nestled between the visual detection and cowardice subroutines. Probably even had a little label on it.

"Because you don't know where we're going so you can't go first, and you don't have any weapons or sensory abilities so you can't go last," Scourge announced smugly. "If you want to take the back and get eaten by whatever's coming up behind us you can, but that wouldn't do the rest of us any good." Now hush and let the grownups talk, hero.

Blade held ahead of them, Scourge went back to the bathroom door and poked his head outside, then waved to the humans behind him. "Nobody's outside. Come on."

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html#comments)]

_{[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html?thread=60561057#t60561057)]}

Nightshift 44: Men's Bathrooms (M01-M40)

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