Under"making things worse for everyone"taker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
exequies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindrpg2017-02-10 05:16 pm
exequies) wrote in snowblindrpg2017-02-10 05:16 pm
[Log] An apple a day keeps the doctor away [closed]
Characters: Bucky Barnes, John Watson, Steve Rogers, and Undertaker (walk into a bar...)
Location: Building 131 (the hospital)
Date: Day 208, midday
Summary: Undertaker revives at the hospital after being dead for several days. He's found by both Bucky and John. Also I suck at summaries.
Warnings: Suicidal ideation and mentions of suicide.
131: The roof of a large, square hospital. At first, it seems like this is as far as you can go--but actually, there's a door on the rooftop. It's locked, but there's a card key reader attached. As for what spared it from having its parts stripped? It was frozen over with ice, though not any longer. The building can now be entered from the rooftop.
The hospital is eerie in its silence, and snow presses in against many of the windows, keeping much of it in sterile darkness. It still smells like a hospital; the antiseptic is fresh, and there isn't much dust. Someone must be cleaning it, and yet it's clear no one is here. The hospital is four stories high with one basement, all connected via the elevator lobby and staircase. Unfortunately, the wall of the elevator lobby has been torn open all the way down, exposing it to the bitter air outside. While you can explore and remain on most of the floors of the hospital at night, you cannot travel between them until it's daytime once more, as the lobby seals itself up at curfew.
The first floor has both more and less relaxed areas. There's an operating room down here, too, as well as another sort of laboratory, and a large section of this floor is taken up by labor delivery. The hospital has a generally oppressive atmosphere, but this area is marginally less so. Only marginally, though. The rooms in the delivery wing are larger than the rooms upstairs, with a more private atmosphere, but there are extra beds in here, and even VIP delivery isn't private on first blush. A closer inspection reveals the rooms only really seem fit for one of the beds. Others must have been added later for some reason. The lobby is very large here, with plenty of seating available for waiting. There's a door that works, also, opening to the south into a small, empty parking garage and finally revealing the rest of the ice tunnel area. During the day, at least. It's locked at night like everything else. There are finger-sized slits cut into many of the mattresses. One of the bathrooms on the first floor has signs of a fire having been set, with scorch marks. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO, CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE" is written on the wall. "ALFIE SOLOMONS, 1922. Camden Town, London, England, UK, Europe, Earth. Day 165, February 24." is carved into the wall. Underneath the RECEPTION sign is the following, scrawled in black crayon:
"NⓍ NIMA
where is it?
73 74 69 6c 6c 20 73 65 61 72 63 68 20 69 6e 67"
Location: Building 131 (the hospital)
Date: Day 208, midday
Summary: Undertaker revives at the hospital after being dead for several days. He's found by both Bucky and John. Also I suck at summaries.
Warnings: Suicidal ideation and mentions of suicide.
131: The roof of a large, square hospital. At first, it seems like this is as far as you can go--but actually, there's a door on the rooftop. It's locked, but there's a card key reader attached. As for what spared it from having its parts stripped? It was frozen over with ice, though not any longer. The building can now be entered from the rooftop.
The hospital is eerie in its silence, and snow presses in against many of the windows, keeping much of it in sterile darkness. It still smells like a hospital; the antiseptic is fresh, and there isn't much dust. Someone must be cleaning it, and yet it's clear no one is here. The hospital is four stories high with one basement, all connected via the elevator lobby and staircase. Unfortunately, the wall of the elevator lobby has been torn open all the way down, exposing it to the bitter air outside. While you can explore and remain on most of the floors of the hospital at night, you cannot travel between them until it's daytime once more, as the lobby seals itself up at curfew.
The first floor has both more and less relaxed areas. There's an operating room down here, too, as well as another sort of laboratory, and a large section of this floor is taken up by labor delivery. The hospital has a generally oppressive atmosphere, but this area is marginally less so. Only marginally, though. The rooms in the delivery wing are larger than the rooms upstairs, with a more private atmosphere, but there are extra beds in here, and even VIP delivery isn't private on first blush. A closer inspection reveals the rooms only really seem fit for one of the beds. Others must have been added later for some reason. The lobby is very large here, with plenty of seating available for waiting. There's a door that works, also, opening to the south into a small, empty parking garage and finally revealing the rest of the ice tunnel area. During the day, at least. It's locked at night like everything else. There are finger-sized slits cut into many of the mattresses. One of the bathrooms on the first floor has signs of a fire having been set, with scorch marks. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO, CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE" is written on the wall. "ALFIE SOLOMONS, 1922. Camden Town, London, England, UK, Europe, Earth. Day 165, February 24." is carved into the wall. Underneath the RECEPTION sign is the following, scrawled in black crayon:
"NⓍ NIMA
where is it?
73 74 69 6c 6c 20 73 65 61 72 63 68 20 69 6e 67"
For Undertaker
[The snap is louder than John means it to be in the middle of his conversation with Mary, and he's looking up, rather than down at his tablet. That may be difficult to see in the dimness of the hospital, though, even with the tablet painting deep shadows onto John's face. He needs to make sure she's real, that this conversation is actually happening. John finished the message more quietly and looks around, eyes falling on Undertaker.
Bit more dangerous than Bucky for that question, isn't he? Mary asks. John tries to ignore her. Two voices from his dead wife are one too many to have.
He picks himself up and moves over to where the other man has settled.]
Mr. Undertaker, I'm having a little trouble with my tablet. Could I ask you to check something for me?
[You're asking the Victorian how to work your tablet? John...]
Please.
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It takes him several seconds to acknowledge John's presence when he does move over, the only sign that he hasn't become a corpse again being the subtle expansion and collapse of his lungs as he breathes. But eventually, his head turns against the wall towards the other man, nearly flopping half-heartedly against his own shoulder as he looks dead-pan at him.]
What is it?
[He wants to ask 'what does it matter?', but it's his mild peak of curiosity that keeps him from being entirely brusque. It still isn't the most welcoming of responses.]
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He really is cleverer than that, my love.]
I tried replaying this message and the sound was sort of garbled. Can you hear it properly?
[John taps the play button, and Mary's comes through in perfectly clear tones.]
John? It's... it's me.
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The voice is unfamiliar to him, but it's asking for Watson. And the tone seems to imply an uncertainty but also a familiarity to it.]
It sounds fine to me. [He keeps his voice neutral, shoulders hunching in a little more to conserve his heat.]
She a friend of yours...?
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My wife. She's my wife.
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...Isn't that the rub, then. [Not even a giggle follows what would normally be an amusing statement from him, mouth drawn in a somber line.]
Doctor Watson has a misses... who knew. That's bad luck, me old china.
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[Or... he didn't experience it until he died? John's not even sure of the proper tense here. In addition, that's just a patently ridiculous statement. Or it would be anywhere but here.
The doctor looks up to where Mary is standing, smiling sadly.
You won't be needing me much anymore when you've the real thing, my darling. But she doesn't disappear, not like she sometimes does.]
She's in Hsiaoke Pass.
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[Again, the laughter can't come and it just feels wrong. For a few seconds, Undertaker reaches up and slides his fingers into either side of his hair, gripping his skull tightly until the utter despair passes.]
You should go see her. [It isn't even a question on his part, when it normally might be. He just feels tired and not all there. It's making him a little funny in the head.]
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Yeah, I'm not planning to make a habit of it. I have something I need to do before I go and see her. But... if I knew someone was going to meet her, that might make things easier. [How much does he trust Undertaker? Not an excessive amount, really, but the man hasn't been hostile, and he'd been taking care of Kid.] Where were you planning to head tomorrow?
warning: vague suicide ideation
[It's unusually morbid for him. Not that he wasn't usually morbid, but this was a different sort of response devoid of humor. The parts in his bangs let his eyes be mostly visible, the look in them a hollow sort of existence despite the way his irises glowed from their own light.]
If I go anywhere, will it matter? Any step I take will just direct back to a zero point. There's nothing for me, right now.
cw: suicidal ideations
Where you go and what you do here always matters, Mr. Undertaker. Whatever you've lost... I know it might feel like the world, but you have to remember that this is temporary. It's always temporary. Whatever's been taken from you will come back, and in the meanwhile, you just have to try to push through.
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Even a day without laughter isn't worth living. It's funny... well, no, it isn't now. But before, it might be. You know before I was a human, before I became what I am now?
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You were a human before?
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Once upon a time, yes. A long time ago.
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[It's said automatically. John can imagine Sherlock getting incredibly bored with some heavenly paradise. He clears his throat and glances away.]
It was assigned to you, then.
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[It's not really a question because they both know the answer to that. Undertaker's gaze shifts down again, looking more towards Watson.]
It's a punishment, more like.
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A punishment for what?
cw: continued suicide mention
[His gaze meets the other man's and there's a weight behind it, this time.]
Now, do you see?
cw: continued suicide mention
[John.
It's terribly morbid humor. He gives himself a mental shake.]
What I see, Mr. Undertaker, is that we need to take this one day at a time. If you die again, there's no telling what she might take from you next. I know it feels like... I know everything is shit right now, but you have to keep moving forward. Have you contacted Kid? Anyone? There are people here who care about you.
They'll want to know you're alive, and they'll want you to stay that way until this death price wears off and you can be yourself again. [His brows furrow, and his lips tighten for a moment.] Please don't do something you'll regret... something you can't take back while you're not yourself.
cw: continued suicide mention
[It comes out mostly neutral, but there is a tinge of irritation to the notion. As if losing his ability to laugh had completely shattered his rationality. Undertaker gives a small snort, and rolls his head in a small shake against the wall.]
Yes, yes, we'll keep playing the Admin's game. Collecting clues, assembling objects, solving the puzzles. Do we have any reason to think that by the end of it, she'll actually let us go?
cw: continued suicide mention
I think you're not entirely yourself and lost a very important coping mechanism for dealing with this place.
There's no point not playing the game, though. At least while we're moving forward there's hope.
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[He lifts his hand, miming a puppeteer with his fingers though the usual laugh doesn't accompany it. And after a second or so his hand simply flops into his lap as he gives a sigh.]
You want me to go see your wife for you, I'll do it. She must be an interesting person to have taken up with your lot.
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My lot consists of Sherlock, Mr. Undertaker. Unless you're talking about someone else?
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