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

cw: strangulation, chewing/cannibalism, blood, tooth loss, self-harm, PTSD

[rubikscomplex]

['For Christ's sake, let me try to diagnose you! Stop freaking waving- STOP!'

House can remember screaming the words at people--different people? Everything on the who and how long is a blur, but he knows there was at least on person with the red lines. Crawling the walls--trying to, anyway--sliding down again and again and again. House had been chained to the wall, a metal collar around his neck, and no matter how many times he told the idiot there was a ceiling they were hitting, it just didn't matter.

Until they'd turned on him, smearing him with the mold and filth in the cells, kicked him while he was down on his knees, sending teeth flying. He'd tried to get away from them after that, straining at the collar until black edged at his vision and his body had gone slack. The chewing hadn't been the worst. That had been awful, someone's teeth dug into his ankle and gnawing.

'Hannibal's got a buddy.' He'd thought that very loudly at the person as he'd spat blood from his mouth and kept trying to pull away. No matter how he twisted, they never let go.

Then the worst part, the person sitting in front of him, just out of House's reach, clawing themselves to pieces, looking perplexed as they splattered blood across his body, his face, into his mouth, nose. This moron had better not have a blood-borne disease. But it was being unable to stop them, feeling helpless, that had left him shrieking, this time straining at his collar to reach out, to stop this person.]

A
[When he wakes up, short a few teeth, bandaged, and still a complete mess, covered in filth and blood--some his own, a lot not his own--House just takes a moment to self-evaluate. There's no more collar, but there's tender flesh around his throat and he's pretty sure he's bruised his neck in a nice band for the memory of that. His throat feels hoarse from shouting, and still tastes like metal. His ankle has been covered with a clean bandage. And he's missing... four teeth total now, judging by his probing around with his tongue. At least Stephen isn't the only one to knock his teeth out... or maybe he is.

The doctor's eyes turn to the others in the cells, the people with the redlines. Well, okay. So. Looks like there's something wrong with everyone, judging by Miller's little manipulation experiment. House stays outside the cells at first, just observing, seeing what people are doing. He's not particular in speaking to the other victims or to the red liners as he snarks, as best he can with a face that hurts a lot:]

Rough night, buddy? That's what you get when you drink the devil's swill liquor.


B
[Later, after he's taken measure, House starts entering cells. God knows they're going to get thrashed again, anyway. Time to start trying to piece together their memories for real.]

Hey, I need you to chew on my ankle. See if you remember anything.

cw: strangulation, chewing/cannibalism, blood, tooth loss, self-harm, PTSD

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

B

[ Will had made a few rounds, and a few rounds after that but eventually he retreated to his own cell to sit down for a bit.

He had gotten back down on the floor and was staring pensively at the food that had been left for him. Will figured he should probably eat something, but the thought of food was nauseating. Which was about the time that House walked in and asked his question.

Will looked up at the man with a singularly unimpressed expression. ]

What, no barbeque sauce?

cw's continue for the thread

[rubikscomplex]

Sorry, we're rationing our barbeque allowance. Cook-out Sundays you can get your allotted two teaspoons to use as you wish. [He coughs and then looks down at the food Will's been given.]

If you're thinking of substituting with that crap, can't recommend it. Last time they had us locked up in cages, the food was drugged. Not that they can't just static drug us, but don't make it easier for 'em.

[He's going to joke about it because the alternative is having a nervous breakdown. He's already had enough public versions of those.

Strains of "Lavender's Blue" are intermixed with "Bohemian Rhapsody" and the Prophet's song from the high school in a cacophony in his head that House has been trying to drown out with words and observations since he woke up..]

cw's continue for the thread

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ As House spoke -rambled?- Will watched his friend closely. It was odd to realize that of the three of them, Will might be the one coming through this situation with the clearest objectivity.

Not that he would ever suggest such a thing to either Hannibal, with his frustrated, understandable rage or House with his borderline panic, drawn from traumas Will had only ever heard about.

He tilted his head pensively, then reached out with a foot and pushed the food away. ]

Better save my caloric intake for Sunday. It takes discipline to keep this girlish figure.

[ Rolling awkwardly to his knees, Will struggled to get to his feet without using his hands. Once he on his feet, he walked towards House, blue eyes moving methodically over the older man, taking in the injuries he could see. ]

Two points of immediate interest. [ He said, looking down the cell block. ] Those of us with the red lines, are still restrained in their cells, but not people like you and I. Additionally, while we seem to have memories of what happened ... so far no one I talked too with red, reports no awareness of what happened.

[ He had wanted to ask House what memories he had. But instinct told him to let House circle back to that in his own time. ]

[rubikscomplex]

[House looks at Will's bandaged hands and wonders what's been done to him. He shouldn't ask, but he is curious. Will looks like he took the 'choke myself out on my collar' option for the evening, as well. Well, birds of a feather.]

Probably Miller screwing with us. They injected us with something. Might've been more nanomachines... but if he's not working with Evie... where's he getting those out from under her nose? Didn't seem like he'd shut her out the same way he did when they were doing emergency repairs. But he's clearly got the ability to lock her system.

Until he doesn't. And then he's just some lowly IT schmuck doing her bidding. What if he's got the virus? [House's gaze goes distant.] Who's the mole in Norfinbury? It's one of the trivia questions he asked us. Asshole. It's him. Miller's the mole!

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Will absolutely had taken the 'choke myself out on my collar' option. Why waste a perfectly good metal collar around the throat? He was still putting together the early memories, but Will knew he had not reacted well to finding himself restrained in a cell.

Actually it was probably a small miracle that he hadn't broken his own neck in his struggles. Fun conversation topics for later. ]

Mole for who or what? [ He asked, tilting his head -wincing- and peering up at House. ] If I remember my reading correctly, isn't Miller supposed to have been a contact for the company in charge of this town?

[ However, speaking of moles and who was doing what under whom's nose. Will stepped a little closer, invading House's personal space bubble but not touching. He just needed to be able to lower his voice and only be heard by House. ]

It's not here. [ He said softly, looking up. ] My 'little friend'? This is the first time, since I acquired it that I haven't sensed it. It was with me, even down in the Pit, but not here.

A

[fiftheclipse]

[By now, Junpei has an idea of what had gone on last night. But that's it-- an idea. He still isn't sure who had done what to who. What he himself had been responsible for. How many victims there were.

So there's a moment of shock when the next person walks by. When it's someone he actually cares about.]

... Shit. Not as rough as yours.

[rubikscomplex]

You should've seen me after that medical conference back in '99. Half my teeth are implants, bro. [They're really not. He leans on the wall outside of Junpei's cell.] You gonna stay in there, or what?

[fiftheclipse]

... They're gonna have to be, now.

I mean, I don't have much choice, right?

[He probably shouldn't punch that barrier again, especially with someone on the other side, but he still wants to show it off. ... That bowl from earlier is still pretty close by. He kicks it, then, not hard enough to get much air-- just enough that they can both watch it bounce right off when it hits that space between them.]

It's only you and the static guys that can get through there. I gotta stay put until someone takes it down again.

[rubikscomplex]

I'm not walking through anything. At least it doesn't look like anything to me. Describe the building we're in.

[fiftheclipse]

Wait, what?

Uh.

It's a cell block. White walls, a bed, a bathroom. ... Something's going on behind us, since the meals came in through that back wall. I dunno where the opening went...

But then right here, there's this.. I mean it kinda looks like a forcefield? But it acts like glass. Only, it won't break.

Then if you get through that door at the end of the hall, there's an operating room. Hospital beds, and IVs, and.. it's awful.

... Isn't it the same for you?

B | cw: derealization; references to delusions and parasites likely

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen's apparently lost in thought when House arrives at his cell, his gaze focused on some distant, invisible point. He looks up, brow furrowing, mouth pursing in disgust. Without answering the suggestion, he gives a little shake of his head and starts listing off the drug names he'd read on his bracelet the day before by rote, anisomycin among them. He's watching House to see if there's any glimmer of recognition.]

cw: derealization; references to delusions and parasites likely

[rubikscomplex]

[House stares at Stephen for a long moment. Maybe he shouldn't have asked the other doctor. They've both been through something like this before. House is only holding up better at the moment because he's physically free to move around and this place is disgusting. For all the horror of that, it's something different than sterile white walls or the makeshift, bloodstained world of the tower.

He starts to say something else, but then there's anisomycin.]

Someone's been getting into the nasty antibiotics. Or memory drugs. That'd explain why you kids can't remember tearing us or yourselves apart.

all above cw's continue throughout thread

[thewarningafter]

That's the only one I recognize, too.

[Stephen would be interested to know that, considering that for him this place is all sterile white walls. And, well, bloodstains now, at least on himself.]

Multiple injections throughout what I assume was the afternoon apparently induced delusions, nausea...and....

[He gestures at House. He doesn't look especially contrite. Maybe that's because it's House. Maybe it's because he's watching this conversation unfold like a movie of someone else's life.]

[rubikscomplex]

You're the neurologists. What could induce apparent insanity? It was like you guys had the movie version of rabies. Chewing on people, scratching yourselves, scratching each other. One of you tried climbing the walls. We're seeing different things at a minimum. Describe the cell you're in.

[House isn't going to quibble over the other man treating him like crap. They don't like each other. He's not expecting sympathy.]

[thewarningafter]

Methamphetamine, LSD, active intervention via nanomachines to alter dopamine levels, but then why bother injecting us with anything....

[He sounds almost lazy about it as he starts listing off the obvious culprits; those are all blatantly obvious. He halts mid-sentence, looking a little more alert than he has since House started talking to him. He looks around the cell, brow furrowed.]

White walls, white floor. Sink and toilet in that alcove; the water's warm--the air's warm--

[Though it wasn't the point of this exercise, Stephen seems to be focusing more closely now, describing in a little more detail bit by bit.]

The bed's built into the wall, not the worst I've slept in. And then there's this...blue...shield across this end.

B: CWs plus implied eye loss

[sleight_of_fate]

[Rhys is spending most of his time resting in between the chats he's had with familiar faces, or even unfamiliar faces, but when he hears House's voice, he lifts his head again, trying to turn toward it as best he can.

There's a lot of gauze, more than is convenient and most of it covering the right side of his face. At least his hair was too short to pull, or he'd probably be missing that, too, but there's fingernail scratches over what skin shows of his face, and he moves with the slow care of someone who's generally had the shit beaten out of them.]

Meh. Not my tastes, if I was gonna pick someone to chew on. You're too bitter and stringy.

[rubikscomplex]

Why does no one wanna do this? You guys were all, 'Cannibalism? Hell yeah!' last night. Now I ask for a nibble and it's, like, 'Ew, gross! We've gone vegan, Dr. House.'

[He might be leaning hard on the snark and sarcasm for a coping mechanism at the moment.]

[sleight_of_fate]

Fad diets are a bitch, aren't they?

[He has to chuckle in spite of himself. House is terrible, but this is all terrible.]

What is this, a forensics thing? Easier to match bite patterns if it's not your ankle.

If you really want to come over here and promise not to kick me, though...

[Memory triggering. He gets it. However, between Brian breaking his nose at the convenience store and... Whatever happened last night, he can't take much more face damage.]

[rubikscomplex]

[At least he tries to be funny while being terrible so everyone can be entertained by the horror. Horror-tained, if you will.]

I had one of you gnawing on my ankle last night. You get to the gnawing, you might remember more. Or I might remember which of you was doing it.

[His heart beats just a little faster as he does step through the barrier, though, and approach Rhys. He eyes the man warily, but he's not running away. They might actually learn something here.]

[sleight_of_fate]

[The whole thing seems surreal to Rhys, considering he's half blind and crippled in a cell and doesn't remember anything aggressive, never mind how he even got this mangled. It he hurt someone else? He has no idea.

On the other hand, not so long ago he did also tell House he's killed people before, so there's that too, as incongruous as it might be right now. The older man probably has a few reasons not to feel safe with him.

Rhys picks himself up slowly off the bed, moving with the painful care of someone who isn't sure what's going to hurt next. His left hand and arm feel next to useless, bandaged up as they are, but he's doing the best he can: he'll manage for now.

Walk back through the whole thing, one step at a time. See what registers, see what surfaces. He's done this before, just not in such horrible circumstances.]

You think you were on the floor?

B

[0thingsonmymind]

*He just stares at that request and slowly shakes his head. No.*

[rubikscomplex]

Seriously, dude? Who even are... Maskie? [It's been so long since he's even seen a piece of the kid's face. It's more his build and silence that tell House who he is.] You're looking all fresh faced, are you Thomas?

[0thingsonmymind]

*Excuse you House, Masky's gone, he's Hoody.

He narrows his eyes and flips off House. Very funny; at least he isn't broken as badly.*

[rubikscomplex]

[Close enough for clinic. And Brian is missing his mask. That's worse than what House is dealing with.]

Angry enough to take a nibble? I'm trying to induce memories.