[log] Tonight we light the fires, we call our ships to port [closed]

[sleight_of_fate]

Characters: Watson, Sherlock, and Mina, Hannibal, Will, House, Ecks, Wilson, Jared Rhys
Location: Building 309, then 326 (the high school)
Date: Daytime/Evening 349
Summary: Reunions. Lots of reunions.
Warnings: Hannibal Things, House things, possible drug use, more added as needed

Comments

Day 349: Building 309

[sleight_of_fate]

309: A house, green on the Geiger counter, that probably should have been redecorated ages ago. Everything looks to be from the 60s or 70s. There was carpeting here, but it's gone now, revealing a trapdoor leading to the maintenance tunnels in the bedroom. There's a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. "зеленый" is written on the inside of the door. A ration box from the convenience store has been attached to the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets with wood glue. On the kitchen wall beneath it, a message has been painted in black: "i left a ration box here for storing food. if you want to leave rations for the people exploring it should hopefully protect them from radiation. any other supplies can go in the cupboard outside the box. contact davesprite (@featherydouche) if some fucker steals it".

[jumpthegun]

[There are too many people upstairs. John's a sociable man--more sociable than Sherlock, certainly--but there's a fear of numbers that's been drilled into him over his months in Norfinbury. Too many people mean anomalies. He sticks to the tunnels, offering a brief smile when the others make their way up to Building 309.

Mina and Sherlock might want to say hullo to everyone, or just observe them, before they head back toward the Industrial Zone. John busies himself trying to write on the walls in the tunnels. He's on high alert, though, and the moment there's a sound of someone descending from the building above, he'll turn his tablet light downward and watch them.]

Afternoon. [It's offered in a neutral tone, though his body language is more tense than that, and it's clear that he hasn't really been sleeping. Anyone heading over will see the following written on the wall:

Above is Building 309, access to the Industrial Zone.
Head East to reach Residential Zone 3 - Heavy Prophet Cult influence.
Head West to continue in tunnels.
Tunnels connect Radiation Zone, Residential Zone 1, Residential Zone 2, and Ice Tunnels.]

[tablewithoutpity]

[It had been five days.

Back in Baltimore, Hannibal had been separated from Will for three years. Three years from the night he surrendered to Jack on Will's lawn to the day his friend stepped up to the glass that "protected" the rest of the world from what Chilton and Alanna had convinced the courts was a deeply mentally disturbed man. It had been three years of living within the palace Hannibal had constructed in his mind, contemplating Botticelli, listening to the boys' choir echoing within the chapel in Palermo, and wandering the labyrinthine catacombs below the church with Will by his side, a silent presence. Hannibal had been lying in wait, until the circumstances arose when he could draw Will back into his orbit. Three years.

Five days felt like an eternity.

Hannibal let everyone else who was going into the house go ahead of him, before climbing up through the trapdoor himself.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ There was a bathroom.

That meant that Will was in the bathroom taking the opportunity to get clean. Despite any odd looks he got from the others already collected in the house, it was a compulsion he couldn't completely escape.

Also it helped pass the time while they waited for Hannibal and the others to arrive.

He was clean, mostly dry and packing up his things when Will heard the commotion that marked the arrival of others through the trap door. Stepping to the doorway of the bathroom, he leaned against the jam and quiet watched ... waiting.

There was a sense of anticipation, but also a genuine nervousness given everything that had happened between them since the morgue in the hospital. Will's mind still slipped a little as he tried to imagine what this reunion might be like between them. He honestly hoped to avoid blood, even though they did have a history of making these situations bittersweet between them.

Still, despite that risk, when he saw the ash blonde head appear through the trap door, Will couldn't help calling out. ]

Hello, Hannibal.

[tablewithoutpity]

[The house was small and crowded, full of noise and bustle, but when Hannibal heard Will's voice, it was like everyone else faded away. He made his way toward the sound, toward his friend, and stopped before him, absorbing the sight of him, the moment thrumming with memory, all the times they met, from the very first time in Jack's office, to Will behind bars, to Hannibal behind glass, all wrapped into that moment before the Botticelli.

Hannibal smiled at his friend, past and present.]

Hello, Will.

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Hannibal had always been stronger at blotting out extraneous distraction than Will. The sudden thick crowd of people served to keep the ex-profiler just inside the doorframe of the bathroom, as if he'd carved out this small piece of territory for just them.

Not nearly as aesthetically pleasing as a seat in front of the Botticelli, but at least it was a bit of quiet under the murmur of voices all around them.

Will's eyes were moving quickly, a sign of his agitation with the thick crowd, but they danced up and down Hannibal's form, as if searching for some sign of the horrific death the older man had suffered. Even though logically, he knew that they were supposed to default to factory settings, so to speak, when returning from a death.

Seeing no sign of the trauma on Hannibal's body, he flicked a quick look into dark, maroon tinted eyes. His eyebrows twitched, once ... twice and then his expression relaxed a little as he realized. ]

You found the entire experience 'curious' ... didn't you?

[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal knew why Will's eyes searched his body, and his smile warmed as he reached out to put a hand on Will's upper arm, squeezing gently.]

What happened in the morgue was not the worst part of the experience.

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Will jumped a little, keyed up by all the people around them, but he settled as the warm weight of Hannibal's grip helped to anchor him.

He glanced down at the bathroom floor, shuffling sock covered feet as he spoke softly, a tone intended to carry only to Hannibal's ears. ]

Not being in control, was the worst part of the experience.

[ It was a statement, rather than a question. ]

[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal lowered his head and moved closer to Will, close enough that their foreheads were almost touching, so that they could speak softly to one another. He closed his eyes and inhaled, finding comfort in Will's warmth and scent.

Not being in control was...unsettling.

[A polite understatement.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ As Hannibal moved in closer, he created a physical block between Will and the spill of strangers in the house. This, in turn, helped Will focus almost exclusively on Hannibal, each breath becoming calmer than the one before it. ]

At least you have a death price to pin your acts on.

[ He remarked a little ruefully. ]

Beckett's going to get his memory back and it's going to be awkward.

[ecks]

[Ecks does not like the ladders. The things she carries with her on a daily basis are already a burden by their sheer quantity, but on a ladder -- a duffel bag is exceptionally difficult to carry up or down a ladder when one only has one hand. She hasn't complained yet, though, thinking that if she does Doctor House is too likely to resume telling her to leave all of her stuffed animals behind if they're so difficult to carry.

She will not leave them behind.

There is a lot of huffing and puffing as she laboriously makes her way up the ladder, hooking the elbow of her stumpy arm on the last rung and attempting to swing the bag up through the trap door with the other. It's not going great for her so far.]

[sleight_of_fate]

[Rhys has been hesitant on meeting back up with "the old crew" again, but he's actually been looking forward to seeing Ecks again for a combination of reasons. Her simple company, guilt at leaving the way he did before, and the gift in his bag that he's hoping she'll appreciate.

It's one of the things he hasn't been able to do so much here, that he's excited to be able to do again...no matter how small.

At the commotion at the ladder, he's quick to move over that way, peering down cautiously before quickly offering a hand down to help her.]

Ecks? Hey, here. Let me grab your bag, so you can get up.

[Rhys appreciates the value of her collection of soft, comfortable things. He can be trusted with them...with the minor possibility of trying to "borrow" them.]

[ecks]

[If it were a stranger (or worse, an enemy), Ecks would clutch her bag all the harder and refuse to even come up out of the hole until he backed off. For Rhys, though, there's just a momentary pause as she looks up at him before things click into rightness in her head and she lets herself follow the order request, pushing the duffel up to where he can grip it. She'll follow more easily once her good hand is free.]

You left. You left, but you are back now.

[sleight_of_fate]

[Rhys gives Ecks a smile, which turns embarrassed when she points out his absence.

He hadn't really wanted to leave, but things had just been too much, and he hasn't been thinking very clearly.

Also he had been incredibly angry at both House and himself, and there was no way in hell he was explaining that to anyone in any of Snowhell, basically, never mind someone he had to face every day.

He helps her up with surprising strength in his wiry shoulders, and returns the bag to her quickly, knowing she'll appreciate that.]

I'm sorry, Ecks. I had some things I needed to do, to think about, and I wanted to be alone for a little bit. I'm feeling better now, though.

And I brought you a present, as an apology for disappearing, because that was bad of me and I saw something that made me think of you?

[ecks]

I don't like it when people leave without saying why they're leaving. Or when they say why but lie. When Doctor House does that, usually he is going somewhere to die.

[That's Doctor House, though. She clutches the duffel to her, eyeing Rhys curiously.]

What kind of present? Is it a fake animal? Or ice cream? Or a knife?

[sleight_of_fate]

[Ouch. He's sorry, Ecks. It's painful and embarrassing and the less said, the better.

But he does feel bad enough that he owes her a little honesty.]

Doctor House said some things to me that I had to think about. They weren't good things, but I thought about them and I'm better now.

[See? Everything's okay. No going off to die. And he gives her a small smile, as he reaches into his bag for the present that he set aside for her, has been carrying since he found it in the computer store.]

I've got some chocolate pudding for us later, but after dinner. This, however, is for you for right now.

[He hands her a stuffed, smiling ladybug plush the size of his hand, made of soft microfiber. Originally it was meant as a computer screen cleaner, but it's more than soft and fuzzy enough to serve her purposes.]

[ecks]

[Ecks narrows her eyes, a deliberate show of disapproval when he admits that it was Doctor House that made him leave--even if Doctor House did not directly tell him to leave, she knows the kinds of things Doctor House says.

That's all set aside, though, when her eyes alight on the toy in Rhys's hand. She lets the duffel go sliding through her arms to land with a too-loud thump on the floor that speaks of the hatchet that shares space inside with the stuffed animals. Hand free, she reaches gently for the ladybug, turning it over a few times, massaging its surface with her fingers as she feels how unexpectedly soft it is.]

It is softer than Soft Dog.

[This is amazing. She looks up at Rhys; her smile convulsive but real.]

Thank you.

Afternoon/Night 349: Building 326

[sleight_of_fate]

326: A fairly large building labeled Norfinbury High School. All the windows are blacked out. The lights here work, but you wouldn't know at first--they only turn on when someone is in the hallway or in the room, but lack of attention means it can take anywhere between thirty seconds to a minute before they actually respond. The hallways seem to stretch, the shadows seem to shiver. Each door is decorated with a prophet symbol, and the walls are covered in graffiti honoring the prophet and talking about killing sinners. Sometimes the doors rattle as you pass, or someone knocks on the other side.

A couple of classrooms still look normal enough, except for the black and red prophet tapestries adorning the walls and covering the windows. Still, the desks are in order, there's a board at the front, and they look like you'd expect out of a high school classroom. The front office, too, looks normal, as if it was actually used for administration--though, of course, there's no sign of the computers that must have been there.

The nurse's office, meanwhile, seems to have been converted to a surgical unit. There's long-dried blood everywhere, as if no one ever bothered to clean up. Indeed, footprints can be seen scattered around, implying people just wandered through while the blood was still wet. It looks like some people were even barefoot. The cafeteria has had all its tables attached to the walls, some covering the windows. The chairs are scattered around, some knocked over and some sitting quietly. There's no food to be found here. The library has been emptied of books, and all the shelves turned to face the wall, with eye symbols drawn on their exposed backs. The gymnasium has had its floor cut into, with eye marks carved all over. There are bleachers, but they're stuck closed, so it would be difficult to open them.

As for the rest of the classrooms? They're filled with thick blackness. Going inside causes all the symptoms of suffocation, and any light shone or brought in is immediately swallowed up.

"ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAYS TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SEVEN, TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY EIGHT, TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY NINE, CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE." is written on one of the walls in the hallway.

Evening, 349 - Open

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys isn't exactly thrilled to be back in the high school, but on the bright side, it is familiar ground. He's back in the area where he's hopefully going to be able to do the most good, and that should make him feel better. Probably. Theoretically.

He's working on it.

At least he looks better than he did in the pit, if you can ignore the blazing thorn-like lines covering his exposed skin, the red that's overtaken his eyes. He still needs a shave badly, and still holds himself carefully, shoulders low and guarded, but he looks less gaunt and more alert, and that's an improvement at least.

What exactly he's going to do next here, he's still not sure, but at least he is here, and that's progress. He'll take it.

[rubikscomplex]

House had held back Building 309, mostly avoided the people because there had been too many of them all crowded into one space. But now they're in the high school again, and the doctor can't help roaming. With Hannibal back around, he doesn't have to worry as much about keeping a hawk eye on Will, and that's a marked improvement in the general situation.

It means that House stumbles across another Complicated Issue, though, in the form of one Jared Rhys. He's been feeding the cannabis pills to Will and indulging himself, so he's not going to offer those back, but he can at least do... something. He's not sure quite what, yet, but... well.

"Are you sticking around, or what?" It's probably... more aggressive than it needs to be, but House isn't so great with smalltalk to easy into heavier issues.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys hadn't had much to say in 309, either, letting the crowd wash over him and away as people said their hellos and goodbyes. As much of that time as possible, actually, he'd stepped out to smoke and breathe in the cold, tie up a few things with Ecks, and generally get his head back together.

He'd been meaning to talk to House anyway, it was just a matter of getting up the nerve for it. Not that he'd planned to say all that much, but just being face to face with the man felt like...a lot, right now. Even if they'd come to some kind of tentative peace.

So when House approaches him first, it throws him off balance, takes him a minute to get the gears working in the right direction. He blinks, but does after a second get everything spinning.

"Probably stick around, unless it's too crowded. Then I'll...I don't know, maybe make a few food runs, or head to the clinic for a bit? I was still planning to stay...kinda close." He still sounds tired, but not quite the raw, wrecked exhausted he was before. It's an improvement, even if he's still guarded, and more than a little worn. He shrugs, and reaches up to rub the back of his hair. It's almost all black now, a perfect carpet of dark fuzz covering his scalp.

"Why, what've you been up to that I probably should pretend I don't know about?"

[rubikscomplex]

"We're heading over to the church tomorrow. I'm running low on my quota of existential horror and stabbings this month." House makes note of the other man's body language, but doesn't comment on it. For House's part, he looks tense, like he's contemplating just leaving. He's more than happy to never discuss what happened in the tunnel to the Columbarium again. But some people like to Talk about Things.

"Luckily, the person you'd snitch to is coming with." He means Wilson, but that might be easily interpreted as Will. Rhys might have picked up on the fact that House and Will have grown closer, the doctor often keeping the ex-profiler within sight, even if he's trying to be casual about it.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys gives a thin laugh. "Nothing quite like doors full of total, suffocating blackness to really do a job on the morale, huh?" In spite of his comment, he'd gone into this conversation easy, with a dry tease rather than a threat.

In a warped sort of way, seeing House with Will is actually helpful to Rhys. It reminds him of his place, of the distance he needs to keep here.

That stepping away from everything and keeping his barriers up is a good thing, a safer way to treat all this. He takes a couple of slow breaths, using the time to rummage in his back for the last orange that he saved. He does, after all, keep his promises, and he holds up the fruit like a prize, before offering it out to House.

"Last one, like I promised. Kind of an apology gift, I guess." He wasn't planning on making a big presentation of it. House doesn't like Talking, and Rhys is too tired to drag it out. But he does want to put it to rest. "Sorry for being a shit."

[rubikscomplex]

House eyes Rhys for a very long, assessing moment. What has happened that made him turn the corner? Time with Watson? No. That's just coddling. He could have got that from Wilson. Purpose? That seems more likely. But he doesn't seem to have a great idea about what he's actually doing if he doesn't have solid plans at the moment. House tilts his head slightly, then steps forward to snatch the orange quickly.

"If this is filled with arsenic, I'm coming back and finding rotten eggs to throw at you." Humor. The first and the last defense. He's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do here. Apologize on his end? There's nothing to apologize for. Not really.

He can picture Davesprite, though, the sprite snapping at him, shutting down, shutting House out when it felt like he'd done nothing wrong. And the awkward attempted apologies that had followed. This is stupid. He's not giving Rhys back the drugs, if this is supposed to be a trade. But it doesn't seem like that's what the younger man is gunning for.

"This mean we're pals again?"

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys wouldn't exactly say he's turned the corner, but there's only so far down he can go. Time with Watson has been...stabilizing, not because of any so-called coddling, but just for the accountability and general safety of routine.

Maybe he's just tired of the bottom? Even he couldn't say, but for the time being, he's holding up, trying to fix what he can.

"If I poison you, it'll be cyanide, and cooking apple seeds takes time. Don't worry, though, when I manage it you'll be the first to know." He smirks, with a small shake of his head. House had been a shit, too, but Rhys isn't going to expect an apology from him on that. As long as House doesn't use the ammunition he's got again...

Which is probably too much to expect, but...fuck. Rhys just doesn't want it hanging over his head anymore. He already has a hard enough time sleeping at night. Getting the drugs back would be nice, but it's not even the main goal anymore. All Rhys wants is to lay his ghosts to rest for a while.

"Yeah. I mean, I guess?" He reaches up to rub at his hair under the edge of his hat, and then gives an uncertain shrug. How much should he say? He doesn't know. What's the difference between settling his own shitty behavior and starting another fight? He swears he used to be so much better at this. "Whatever makes you happy, either way."