Event: Consolidation Theory, Part One and Two

[snowblindmods]

Characters: red-marked characters
Location: ???
Date: Morning & Day 353
Summary: You wake up in a cell.
Warnings: general horror warnings; please note in subject lines for anything specific that comes up

Consolidation Theory OOC Post
Part Two OOC Post

Comments

parts 1 & 2 - general CW: hallucinations, medical trauma, PTSD; see prompt-specific CWs

[plaguenurse]

part one - A: waking up [CW: allusions to physical and sexual abuse]

[Like many of the others, Diana doesn't take this exceptionally well. She has no history with torture towers, but this isn't the first time she's woken up in a cell with a faceless man telling her there's more in store. And the memories of that are foggy, but they sharpen as Diana comes to and assesses the situation, pitching her arm forward to touch the forcefield. The sleeve of the white jumpsuit comes into view as she does so, and a pit begins to widen in her stomach; these aren't her clothes. Someone undressed her. Someone...

She draws her arm back like a shot and pushes herself up off the floor, running her hands frantically over the jumpsuit and feeling more violated in it by the second. A hitch catches her breathing as she pulls her knees up to her chest and brushes her hands over her face, through her loose hair where braids and clips would usually be.

There, her fingers tighten into fists, and she bows her head to hide her face behind her knees, hoping her shaky breathing will chase away the images behind her eyes and the phantom hands on her body.]


part one - B: conversation

[While the consuming panic eventually ebbs, the knot of fear underlying it remains. Diana remains in a withdrawn posture, trying to obscure the shape of her body as much as possible. With her hair clips gone, all the hair that's normally braided back is now persistently falling into her face, which at least serves to somewhat hide her nervous expression when she bows her head.

What is more pressing is the absence of two other things: her Decision Game bracelet, and her bluebird music box. The lack of one is almost freeing. The lack of the other is devastating.

Her hand comes to touch her sternum where her music box usually rests. Saddened, she addresses whoever may be listening.] They really took everything. Even jewelry. I guess they were worried we could use it to break out...


part two - C: bracelet

[The faint sound of the slot in the wall opening up startles Diana, and she watches with apprehension as a small meal comes through it. She tries to get a glimpse of what might be pushing it through, but it happens too quickly to discern one way or the other.

She simply lets the food sit for a moment, worried that it may be some kind of experiment, but she is hungry and the call of warm oatmeal and fresh fruit is too strong.

So she reaches for it, and that's when she notices the bracelet that has appeared around her wrist. She recognises it immediately; she saw them every day at the hospital, after all. Just a quick glance is enough to tell her that her medical plan involves drugs she doesn't recognise, and that's enough to trigger a strong pang of revulsion--sick of having a marker around her wrist and scared of what it might mean, she tugs at it until it snaps off and then throws it to the floor.

It takes a moment for her to look away from it and into the cells of her fellow captives.] Does-- does anyone else recognize these drugs? [Maybe someone from further into the future...]


part two - D: hallucination

[Diana tries to resist as the buzzing static shapes take her, but she's not a fighter on a good day and the disorientation makes her too sluggish. Still, an anguished wail escapes her as she's dragged onto the bed and taken away.

She feels sick when she returns, and crumples to the floor of her cell immediately upon release. She feels like she might throw up, but maybe if she doesn't move, the room will stop spinning and her stomach will stop churning.

She feels a light touch on the back of her head. It's...nice. Comforting. And then, a familiar voice, asking if she's okay...

She turns her head slightly, though her vision swims too much to see her surroundings.] Sigma...?

[She doesn't see him. But she also doesn't see her cell. The clean, white surfaces look like the Healing Room; as she stares at the small piano that's materialised in her vision, she pulls something else out of the recesses of her bleary mind.] Another puzzle...?

b

[notaquaman]

Break out?

[Nathan barks a bitter laugh.]

That's optimistic, love. I'm guessing the sick fucks were afraid we'd off ourselves. You know, fashion a shiv out of a bent piece of jewelry or hang ourselves with our shoelaces.

[plaguenurse]

[At first, Diana's expression looks pained as she regards Nathan and takes in that horrible possibility, silently asking why would you say that?

But after months in Norfinbury, and everything she went through at the hands of Zero and her ex-husband...

Diana averts her eyes, hugging her arms to her chest.] Yeah, you might be right.

[notaquaman]

Makes you wonder what comes next, doesn't it?

[He knocks his head back lightly against his cell from where he sits on the floor, eyes closed.]

In that morbidly curious, knots twisting in your stomach kind of way.

[Nathan starts to say more, but the sentence stops before it begins, ending as little more than a ragged huff. He knocks his hand against his knee, anxious, and starts again.]

But we'll be fine. It always ends up just fine.

[plaguenurse]

I don't think it does. [The way that some people in Norfinbury live--hopeless, hating everything, praying that their next death might be the last--couldn't be further from "fine."] To be fine, you need time to recover...time to heal.

We don't ever get that here.

[notaquaman]

I guess that depends on how you look at time, yeah?

[Nathan opens his eyes and shifts to peer over at her from his cell. It's not exactly a comfortable vantage point, but he does his best.]

Purely hypothetical question, love, just for something to talk about. Do you think death's the end of the line?

[plaguenurse]

[She searches his face for any underlying motive to that question, but even if he had one, Diana doubts she'd recognise it. She regards the forcefield at the front of her cell thoughtfully.] Well... I don't know. There's no scientific evidence of something afterwards. [As a nurse, she can't ignore that, no matter how many patients come back from near death experiences claiming to have seen God.

She reaches for her absent necklace again.] But I think there still could be. It would be nice.

[notaquaman]

That's what I'm saying. As long as you count on something else coming after, there's always something away from here to look forward to.

[He shrugs one shoulder, thinking about his family.]

If you ask me, believing in a higher power, divinity, whatever, it's probably all bullshit. But there's definitely some kind of great beyond, I've seen it for myself. Sort of.

[This is absolutely not comforting. He's aware of that, but he's not exactly sure what else to say.]

[plaguenurse]

[Thankfully, one part of that is confusing enough to direct Diana's attention away from any absence of comfort or sensitivity in Nathan's response. She tilts her head and brushes her hair away from her face, eyebrows slanted slightly with her curiosity.] You've...seen it yourself? [Sort of...?]

[notaquaman]

[That was a weird thing to say, wasn't it? Nathan isn't exactly thinking straight. But then, when is he ever? Stress sometimes brings out the cleverness in him, but that only applies when he's in a situation where talking fast can save his sorry hide. He clears his throat.]

Yeah, ah...back home, I could see dead people. Sixth sense bullshit. Long story how it happened, but I know that the...soul or whatever, I guess, exists, and they definitely go somewhere. Couldn't tell you where, exactly, but somewhere.

D

[fiftheclipse]

[What would Sigma be doing here? ... No, more like, a lot of people seemed to be talking to someone who wasn't here. Why couldn't Junpei have that, too? He's missed Akane so much, all this time. It's fine if nothing's real. If he could just see her...

...

Diana is real, though, isn't she? She was here before.. all of this, at least.

So...]

You guys got a puzzle?

Tell me it opens up the cells.

[plaguenurse]

[At the sound of Junpei's familiar voice, Diana shifts again to look in his direction. She can see him clearly, but...why is he sitting on the other side of the room like that?] Junpei...?

[She pushes herself up into a sitting position, but the image of the Healing Room swirls and spins and so she has to close her eyes to tamp down the nausea again. His remark on the cells is momentarily lost to her.] Why are you in Ward D...?

[fiftheclipse]

Ward D?

[That would be nicer, going back to Dcom. Back to wherever it was that Zero dragged them away to from there. Back to his team. Alive, preferably. It would beat the horrors he's surrounded by now, any day.]

Sounds like you won the lottery, there. Pretty sure I got the wrong part of Nevada.

[plaguenurse]

[Won the lottery? She doesn't understand. None of them are lucky. They're all trapped here, being forced to kill each other...

Her shoulders lurch, but thankfully she doesn't vomit. Her gaze fixates on the thick black bracelet that has materialised in her vision, back again after she was so relieved to be free of it.] What do you mean?

[fiftheclipse]

You've got Sigma. Maybe Phi's there too? [Because Phi's got the highest survival rate of them all, right?]

You'll be fine.

[Unlike him. ... Or it might be the same timeline Junpei was headed to next. She doesn't need to hear that.]

See if you can't get the room to open. Maybe something'll happen.

[plaguenurse]

Sigma... [Diana still can't seem to find where he is, but she definitely heard him. And now Junpei is saying he's here, too. So surely he must be here somewhere?

But Phi... Something emerges from the back of Diana's mind. She shakes her head.] No... Phi's not here... [Phi's dead. Diana remembers hearing that Phi was dead. Where did she hear that? Phi was with her in Manufacturing, but Diana remembers the gut-wrenching sadness, so Phi must be...

With great effort, Diana struggles to her feet, but it feels like the world is jerked out from under her. She stumbles against one of the recliners (the bed in her cell, in actuality).]

[fiftheclipse]

[... Wait that didn't sound good.]

Huh. I guess she'll be waiting for you when we get out, instead.

[He doesn't mean out of her imaginary room anymore, of course. He means the whole town. Diana can see her team again. Junpei can see his. That's.. That's all either of them should try to focus on.]

Take it easy, over there. You're not gonna be much use if you start tripping over stuff and knock yourself out.

[Like someone else he knows...]

[plaguenurse]

[When they get out? Phi's dead, she can't be waiting for Diana. No one is waiting for her, anywhere.

She manages to pull herself onto the bed into what's roughly a sitting position, but that doesn't last very long. She's soon resting on her side again, but at least now she's in a bed and not on the floor. She wonders what it would sound like if she played that piano; it doesn't seem to have many keys, but they just become smear of black and white every time she moves her eyes, so it's hard to tell...

Diana squeezes her eyes shut.] I'm...really dizzy.

A: ongoing CW for PTSD, implued sexual/physical abuse

[sleight_of_fate]

[It's funny, how when you've been exposed to trauma, so much trauma, in your life, you learn to recognize even just the breathing of someone about to lose their shit. It's a thin sound, strained, with no voice behind it but holding all the potential for a whimper or a scream, depending on the trauma behind it.

It's a terrible sound, and it makes Rhys's chest tighten too, makes adrenaline surge in his veins with the urge to start swinging. He can't do that here, though, so he does what's probably the better thing anyway.]

Hey. Can you hear me? I'm over here. Talk to me. What's going on?

[plaguenurse]

[She hears the sounds of voices around her, of the others coming to and realising what's going on, but they're not speaking to her. No one would pay her any mind. So she doesn't realise at first that this voice--clearer than the others, spoken in her direction--is speaking to her. Diana doesn't look over at him until his last prompt. Her head turns like a snap, her eyes wide and nearly unseeing as she tries to locate who said something to her.

Still, she's confused and scared and doubtful, so her only response at first is a small:] Me?

[sleight_of_fate]

[He's a man of about thirty with close-cropped black hair and dark blue eyes, watching her from behind the force field with tired concern.]

Hey. Yeah. Um, sorry, I don't think we've met, but I'm Rhys.

Are you okay? You look...shaken up. More than usual, I mean.

[plaguenurse]

I-- I-- [She tries to answer, but she's clearly still trying to process what he even said in the first place. Her hands are still vicelike around fistfuls of her own hair, and her breathing is too fast. Her skin crawls and she feels like if she tries to move any more, she'll give in to the temptation to claw herself right out of it.

She eventually finds an answer, though not an exceptionally coherent one.] Our clothes...

[sleight_of_fate]

[She's panicky, but he's patient, still keeping that calm, gentle voice as he tries to guide her back so some sort of lucidity.]

Yeah. They're awful, I know.

You're hyperventilating. Just hold your breath for a minute, let it out slow. I'll count with you, okay? You'll feel a little better. One thing at a time.

[plaguenurse]

[The softness of his voice helps--it's the complete opposite of what she's been trained to expect in this state. He's giving her directions. She's hyperventilating? She's hyperventilating, he's right, she should try to slow down...

She nods once, her voice still distant.] Okay. [She tries to take a slower breath, but more than that, she listens intently for him to start counting.]

[sleight_of_fate]

Good. Two, three. Breathe out, nice and slow. You're okay, just stay with me and I'll get you through this. Breathe in again, one...two...

[It's almost a hypnotic rhythm, gentle but firm, focused just on keeping her air flow. He'll start to talk a little more once she starts to follow, but still keeps count. Still keeps her anchored.]

I used to do this in the park, when it warmed up enough. Or near the beach, where I could hear the waves.

Two, three...out...