damned_institute | Night 46: M31-40 Hallway

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Night 46: M31-40 Hallway

Emmett left his room empty handed again. It was tougher navigating without a flashlight, but it felt more comfortable. Especially with what he was going to have to do.

Outside seemed like his best bet for hunting. The dogs that attacked them last night didn't exactly smell fresh, but their blood was slightly more appetizing-- and much more likely to be digested by his system than the human food that kept being shoved in his face. Unfortunately there was also the chance that he wouldn't be able to find a semi-living, warmblooded animal out there again. Apparently there had been some Night of the Living Dead theme going on recently. So who knew, maybe it was going to be Swampthing or Frankenstein night-- he did hear that nutjob mention some bullshit like that. If that was the case then his natural prey couldn't be ruled out as an option.

He kept to the wall as he walked down the hallway. It was still early and relatively quiet. Feeding on someone he didn't know was definitely way better than attacking a friend, he was sure the others would agree...

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Recluse certainly wasn't planning on watching Piper sleep. Frankly, that would mostly bore him when he had other things he could be doing.

Clothing removal earned another raised eyebrow, but he remained quiet, watching. It probably would have been less noteworthy if the reason had been actually mentioned first.

"Wounds tend to heal much more quickly during the undetermined period of time that we are unconscious at the end of the night. Since you have been here a few days, any wounds you had from before will also have been healed." It could indicate that there was a longer period of time between days that they were conscious than anyone really considered, that this place had more modern medical technology than was indicated by this place, or that this was in fact a simulation as was the popular theory now, and reality didn't really have to work along normal lines in here.

"Anything I can make. Poisons are the easiest, obviously. It's far easier to break a living thing than fix it." He was not going into specifics. Several of them were chemicals that had been in use during World War I. That was never really taken well by more normal individuals.

Poisons...Hart would let that on be. So long as the lot of them had a force to struggle against, he doubted (hopefully) that Recluse would turn his intellect and weapons toward the standard populus. Such a shame about Supervillains--all that pent up desire to muck things up. If only they could get closer to that Landel figure.

Desiring a change to subject, Hart leaned back toward the conditions of his illness, though chose to question the workings of physical injury versus internal pathogens. (He wasn't a doctor and neither was Recluse. They'd both on the subject.)

"How long was I out for, then? --if you know that is." They'd seen each other the night of the last instance Hart remembered, so it couldn't be that hard to make a tally-count of hours passed.

...providing he'd only been out for hours.

"--I mean, it's not like I played Rip van Winkle and slept for ages, right?" The quiet outside of their own voices bothered him, and at that, Hart found himself trying to push and -listen-. He'd take anything, really, just so long as it saved him from the damnable quiet. Where was the talkative little speedsters when you needed them, anyway?

And god--if he'd been out for any amount of time... "--and how are the rest?" he quickly cut in, "Abe? Scourge? Do you know anyone named Wally West? Or Bart? --sort of fluffy-headed, very short..." Hart trailed off to let the other answer and hoped he'd find some consolation at least.

"You were gone for two days." By the standards of this place, that was a substantial disappearance. He had been mentally labeling Piper as possibly dead or otherwise gone. Which had been a shame, really. It was easier to work with villains, regardless of whether they thought they were reformed or not.

"Abe and Scourge are still here. West is as well, but since I do not know the last person you mentioned, I haven't been watching for them." He didn't care much about the youngest ones here. They tended to possess irritatingly strong morals, apart from Haku. "I will look for him if you give me a full description."

"Two days?" Hart tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. Even at his worst of ills, two days seemed a little excessive. Bart and Wally would have been worrying themselves sick over him. He didn't think much of Abe for that, but Scourge--! Oh god, Hart really hoped the man was doing alright...

"And Bart's short like I said--brown, almost auburn hair in a big fluffy mess. Almost like he escaped out the eighties." It wasn't the best comparison, but it would have to do. "Big golden eyes and he really can't be too much taller over five-foot and--" He broke off for a moment, feeling a little light-headed but no worse for wear. He was still here, yes, but three out of four alive and well... Hart would take that as a victory.

"--thank you."

Recluse, he is smiling at you. SMILING. Feel free to get the uncomfortable villain fee-fees now.

Recluse nodded in confirmation. It seemed like this was something that worried Piper. "Frankly, you're probably lucky you missed yesterday. A substantial portion of the inmates here were brainwashed for the day. Everyone has returned to relative normalcy by now, however. It's unclear whether it was intentional, but other matters have made Landel exceedingly nervous." In the same sort of way that he reacted to Marcus not showing up, really. It made him suspect the bastard was up to something.

"I will be sure to look for him." He monitored the other prisoners anyway. "It's no trouble." Any sincere smile would look out of place on his features, especially with how obviously fake it might be, considering how little he was acting now. He just settled on another nod in response.

As Recluse spoke, Hart tried to jog his memory of is last waking day.

He owed the group of them a way to code their messages on the bulletin board. That would be easy enough.
He also owed a good deal of talking-to with Bart and Wally, mostly catching up with on Bart's part. He'd made a lot of big promises to the young man. The next they meet up, it would be best to stick with the other like glue, and if he couldn't, to make sure the other was left in capable hands.

Aaaaand then there was a massage he'd promised. Oh bother. And here he was groggy and fogged over and in generally no shape to do so--not unless Recluse was looking too have him fall asleep on the job, passed out over the larger man's back.

Severely doubting that was the case, they'd have to reschedule. Again with doubt Hart didn't think the man would have had any more offers to unkink that back of his. He was sort of intimidating. But they'd deal with that later--possibly over breakfast.

"Well, aside from the obvious rotten stench in Denmark, what do you think's up? Anything weird on the board or the intercom?"

"The bulletin is still being censored, and Landel seems worried over the sudden disappearance of the one seemingly responsible for the zombies from several nights ago." Good riddance. No matter how much of a distraction to Landel that idiot might have been, he was a third party that simply caused complications.

"Apart from that, just the normal idiocy of this place." Idiocy in abundance.

"The zombies...that was the night or so before I showed up, correct?" He remembered mention of them before, but really didn't know what to make of it. "And were they actually zombies? Like, risen from the grave and all? Two steps from pulling a Thriller move or something like that?" --providing that Recluse's world HAD The Thriller. In any case, that probably took things a step too far, but even still...

"It's just...you know, I'm probably very lucky that I haven't seen anything nasty around here since I arrived, it's just...zombies? They didn't go for the head, did they?"

"The same night you arrived, actually. You were just stuck at the Institute, apparently in an area where the zombies didn't reach." That whole thing had been something to do with Alec Doyle. Who was now apparently gone, again. There was more than a part of him that was angrily demanding an explanation for that useless power display.

"And yes, many of them did actually dig themselves out of the ground. And they did try to bite." Recluse smiled, as if remembering some vicious amusement. Which he was, really. "They just didn't really succeed, that's all." The things had been brittle. They looked slightly less well-preserved than the ones that tried to stage an apocalypse in the Rogue Isles every so often. Or the ones that many masterminds made for themselves. They certainly weren't as capable as either, otherwise the few living beings in the town would have been overrun.

Hart had been a lucky one--in his world, he'd never had to deal with zombies. Nearest to that were the Rogues-under-Neron's-control, but that had been more of a spiritual possession and less of a the-dead-have-risen campaign. He'd thank the Gods that he'd gotten to miss yet another instance of them in this world.

"Well...that's..." Small talk. That's all it was.

So the desire to be useful finally won out over his physical condition.

"I have a code to write." he said as he stood, going to retrieve his notebook and a pen. "You said it yourself that they were monitoring the board. We wanted one anyway. I've got to start on this is we want a reliable way to communicate when we're not face to face..."

Notebook open, the man began to scrawl out all manner of things--mostly music notes.

"I'll rig it up in threes and fours--like the keys of a phones, you know?" He spoke as fast as he wrote, nearly manic. "--like A, B, C for the number two? Only you take a note and it's position denotes the letter. Just vary up the notes you use and it's easy! Right?"

At least he was putting his energy to good use...

"And it doesn't even have to be playable music in the end! I don't know who or what they think I'm supposed to be here, but so long as I can play the musical savant, who cares what the notes say? We're all supposed to be crazy, right? It'll work!"

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Night 46: M31-40 Hallway

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