Event: Consolidation Theory, Part Four and Five

[snowblindmods]

Characters: red-marked characters and their new friends
Location: ???
Date: Morning 354, Morning and Day 355
Summary: A quiet morning and a confusing morning, or maybe they're both, or maybe they're neither.
Warnings: gore, psychological horror, warn for specifics in the subject lines

Part Four OOC Post
Part Five OOC Post

Comments

[warriorscribe]

[The reaction causes a subtle unease to stir in the back of his mind, links to memories months old of another set of cells and the way people would draw back from him then.

The comment confuses him. His mind tries to wake through both normal grogginess and the fog of threatening memories.]

Released? You don't have...you're not marked. That might be why he let you out. But I don't understand what you mean.

cw ptsd/references to Noisy Black throughout the rest of this thread

[holmesice]

[Enoch's voice begins to bring back some very bad memories, even if it's him on the outside this time. His eyes widen and he takes another step back.]

They got you again, didn't they?

[He looks around frantically before focusing on Enoch again.]

It wasn't enough for you last time!?

You bloody fiends, was it you?! Did you eat my finger!?

[warriorscribe]

Again? Again? Did I- what?

[Enoch grunts as one of his legs protests the motion. It feels like someone got a good, solid kick in. When it sinks in, he'll want to thank that person. They might have spared themselves or someone else worse.

For now, his mind is somehow both racing and coming up with absolutely nothing, except the mounting fear that the gap in his memory holds nothing good.]

[holmesice]

Did you? Or was it someone else? One of your friends?!

[He spits the word 'friends' out like it's distasteful.]

I was nearly eaten alive in there. [His words come out low. A tremendous, confused, but mostly angry mix of emotion. As if he can't believe he's actually saying the words.]

[warriorscribe]

I don't- I don't know! I don't remember- I don't even remember falling asleep, or...

[He looks down at the bandages on his arms. There are scratches trailing into a layer over the middle of his palms. Defense wounds. Against him.

The whirling, clutching mess of his thoughts suddenly drops into something numb.]

...or fighting. I was alone in here, I've been alone in here...

[He says it, but knows it isn't true. Knows he's missing time, time that Mycroft has begun to fill in.

They got him again, indeed.]

[holmesice]

...if you don't remember, then how will we...ah.

It was you lot, it had to be, you just don't remember.

[He sounds quite put off by that. He wants to blame someone, of course.]

Your injuries. Did you awaken with them?

[warriorscribe]

[Enoch nods.]

I don't- I don't remember getting them, or them being dressed. I don't understand. I can recall traces of things hundreds of years ago, but not last night. Not even a feeling. Not even a sound or a texture...

[holmesice]

Damn it all. Completely unhelpful.

[Not your fault, Enoch, but you're very convenient to blame right now.]

Obviously that is by design, they're doing this to us on purpose. They don't want us to know...

[warriorscribe]

[He's convenient to blame for himself, really... The only thing keeping him from doing so is the fact that none of the other marked can remember any more than he does.]

Of course he is. He's always been needlessly cruel...

[Wait, "they"?]

Did you hear from anyone but Miller?