Event: Consolidation Theory, Part Six

[snowblindmods]

Characters: the marked, the unmarked, and their rescuers
Location: ???
Date: Morning 356
Summary: Time to get out of here.
Warnings: gore, psychological horror, warn for specifics in the subject lines

Part Six OOC Post

Comments

Rescuer \o/ (Open to all)

[swatsflies]

[ He has training in stealth, and listens to his instincts. Zell manages to avoid detection until he comes to the room where everyone is. His stomach does an uncomfortable drop as he realizes that the wounds are real, but they aren't locked up. None of them are.

Zell approaches the closest person. And carefully places a hand on them gently. ]

Hey. Hey. C'mon. Let's get out of here.

[0thingsonmymind]

*Brian initially flinches away from the touch, but once he realizes who it is he relaxes. Go where, though? He cants his head and points to where he thinks the force field is.*

[tadashiwashere]

[Tadashi jolts awake at the touch -- he's been catching a few minutes of blessed sleep. When his eyes focus in on Zell's face, his expression remains confused. He can't put together what the other boy means. Unless he's able to get rid of these chains, there's no getting out of here.]

How?

[Maybe this nightmare is about to end...]

[rattlingthestars]

[ Jim's propped up against a wall as though he can't move from it, neck hanging in an uncomfortable way as if there's an invisible chain. He doesn't stir immediately when Zell touches him, but then Zell should be used to how difficult he can be to wake up.

He does open his eyes and tilt his head back, squinting up until he realizes - ]

Sunshine? How did you...?

cw: tooth loss, vomiting, blood

[rubikscomplex]

A - Closed to Wilson
[House is trapped in a moldy prison cell, chained by the neck once more. His clothes and face are covered in blood, filth, and the dried food and vomit he'd managed to spit out and sick up when he couldn't resist the force-feeding anymore.

He's expecting more torture, another round of last night--was it last night at this point? Time doesn't mean anything. They're going to let the people with the red lines in again to tear themselves and him apart. Screw waiting. Screw waiting for that. His voice is hoarse, but it's angry, as loud as he can make it. He'll go down fighting. He'll go down screaming in the face of whatever bullshit is coming.]

Hey, Miller, how about you suck my balls, you pencil-dick moron. You're not a freaking doctor. Think you're fixing people with something wrong with them? Great job fixing it, Einstein. Go screw yourself!

B - OTA
[He's out! Out and... Jesus Christ, were they really just standing around for no reason this whole time? House is beginning to be incredibly annoyed by the perception-based bullshit they're dealing with. But he's free and there are still people that he has... some reasonable level of interest in for one reason or another. He approaches one of them.]

Hey, snap out of it. None of it was real.

[Well, okay, the injuries are real, but he needs a starting point.]

...not quite B?

[warriorscribe]

[They're both out. And Enoch is scanning the room, himself. There was nothing. The toilets and sinks were real, but...

Enoch approaches the first former prisoner he comes across, still somewhat dazed and shaking off the worst of the delirious fever from last night.]

I...I hit my head on the edge of my bed. [He starts, raising a hand to the bruise on his forehead. It is very definitely one caused by striking a corner and not just the floor.] But that bed didn't exist. Your chains bruised you...but they didn't exist.

[A pause, as he looks down at his half-bandaged hands, overheated wheels turning.]

We attempted to climb walls that weren't there, and apparently succeeded.

[And he looks up at House, as if hoping there might be some relative-future medical explanation for all this.]

[onlytwothings]

[ If anyone were to ask Wilson, the first thing he'd do is express his consternation about how he even got here. It's mostly a blur to him, but the only thing he's been thinking about is finding House. Everyone knows this place is terrible, but it seems to him that it's constantly trying to raise the bar in terms of how horrible it can be. Or how quickly it can break them.

The static figures that seem to be everywhere down there are more than a little unsettling, and some instinct that Wilson can't quite identify tells him it's a good idea to not be seen. So he alternates between searching for his friend and hiding; luckily for him, said friend is quite vocal at times, and right now is no exception to that. He hears House's screaming, and it's like a beacon taking him right where he needs to go.

Halting just outside where House is, he walks up and tries to get a closer look, not sure what he'll see, or if he even wants to see it. But he's not about to leave House down here, to go through more of something. He can only begin to guess at what's been going on down here, but whatever it is, he's sure it's bad. ]

House? [ House's screams are so loud, he's not sure he can hear him yet, so he tries again, louder this time. ] House! It's me, Wilson. We need to get out of here.

[fifty]

A; closed to England and Ginger but in separate threads so we don't go crazy
[America is out of breath because he ran almost the entire way. He only stopped to get out of sight of those weird static things, and even then he'd almost considered just punching his way through, except that problem-solving method didn't have a great track record in Norfinbury.

But now he's here, and he's kind of tired of all the running, but he doesn't care because he's here and he can help!]

Guys! Guys, I'm here! I'm--whoa. [This isn't a cell block.]

B; OTA
[If anyone else needs help, America is here for you. Except if you're the Joker. No one likes you, Joker.]

Hey, guys, c'mon, it's time to go. I dunno how long we have before something shows up.

A

[keepscalm]

[England is still in a lot of pain and unable to stand, but he sits up straighter when he hears that very familiar, very loud voice approaching. He's been relocated back into his own cell, chained up so that he can't sit with Ginger--or so he thinks, of course.

He tries to shout, but it's an abrupt, painful reminder of his neck injuries; his voice breaks, barely recognisable as he produces as much volume as he can.] America!

[warriorscribe]

A: Rescued! (For Wilson and Magenta)

[Enoch, once again, was too unbalanced to actually make it to his cell's bed. Which might be for the best, depending on whether or not there ever was a bed in the first place. He's curled up on the floor, staring blankly ahead in the addled remnants of last night's fever.

He hears footsteps. Is it one of the unmarked? House or Ginger again with the tablet?

The face - or is it two faces? - he blinks up at...there are no injuries. They're new.]

Oh, no...he's brought more of you?


B: Rescue (attempts)!

[But Enoch can't just leave everyone here. Even with other rescuers here and active, he has friends here. Some so close they're practically family, and one that matters more to him than he ever realized he needed to feel.

And even if they weren't here, even if they were on the outside waiting for him, he can't just leave these people to suffer. Friend, frenemy, foe, passing acquaintance, or stranger - Enoch will stop at the "cell" of anyone who either seems to be having trouble or has nobody, and approach in a way a marked person should not be able to.]

Come, we're going to escape.

a!

[himalayanyeti]

[Pure curiosity drove Magenta to ask about whatever the hell happened this time, and he's already starting to regret it. Too much of this reminds him of his own previous capture. In fact, he'd like to get the hell out of here as soon as possible, but finding a way out is too high a task for his current panicked state.

Wilson helps. More than he'd like to admit, really. Magenta is perfectly fine with being his shadow and not doing much of his own volution, except--

Enoch catches his eye, though not all for a good reason. Enoch was with him when he was somewhere like this, and while his appearance sets Magenta on edge, he pauses there, in front of the empty space where the lone man sits.]

Oh shit--oh shit. Enoch? Y'alright?

[fiftheclipse]

[1] Semi-locked (all can try, only Quark or Diana will succeed)

[The visions were kinder to Junpei, last night. There hadn't been all that death, like before. In turn, there hadn't been any fear. Instead, he'd finally joined the others who'd been able to see their loved ones. He'd had Akane.

... In some way, maybe it was actually cruel. Having woken up to find her gone...

Why can't all of this be over?

Right now, Junpei can be found lying on his bed-- though maybe it doesn't look like that to everyone-- with his face buried in his arms. Because maybe those hallucinations were more like a dream. Maybe he can return to them if he just falls asleep.]



[2] - Open to All

[So it wasn't real. So these past couple days have been.. pretty much what he'd begun to think the entire town was. That doesn't make it any less awful. If anything, seeing everyone like this... It's worse. So much worse.

There's no way Junpei can leave while others are still trapped, so he's rushing right over to the nearest person who's still alone, grabbing at their arm or shoulder or wherever else looks the least damaged, to try shaking them back to their senses.]

C'mon! We're getting outta here! You gotta snap out of it!

[Look, nobody ever said he'd be good at this. Maybe someone should stop him...]

1

[averytinyparticle]

[Oh, thank God. Quark was pretty torn over who to look for first, so he resolved to just start with whoever he found fastest and then double back for the other. He wasn't expecting everyone to just be confined to one big room. There's nothing even keeping them here. What's going on? In any case, what's important is that Junpei is here. It's a relief to see him again. After the obituary, and not being able to contact him...

Well, all he could hope was that Junpei would even be among those who were abducted by Miller.]

Grandpa!

[He's not supposed to call him that, but in his excitement, it just slips out. He falls down to his knees next to Junpei's laying body, reaching for his arm and shaking him gently.]

cw: blood, choking

[cahooted]

a. Rescued (closed to Nicole)

[He's chained to the wall, eyes closed, muttering softly under his breath to himself. It's Shakespeare, sonnets he's reciting, to pass the time, to distract himself from the pain and fearful anticipation and the humiliation of the force feeding. His neck burns painfully from the attempts to turn away, break free, strain himself against the collar until he almost passes out and he presses the back of his head into the wall to try and avoid the sensation of cold metal against his skin.]

As an unperfect actor on the stage, who with his fear is put besides his part; Or some fierce thing, replete with too much rage, whose strenght's abundance weakens his own heart; So I, for fear of trust, forget to say the perfect ceremony of love's right...

[When he hears someone moving nearby his voice trails off and he shuts his eyes a little tighter. Is it night already? Maybe he should have counted the seconds instead.]



b. Rescuing (OTA)

[Once he's out and his mind clears he looks around in a daze. What? None of it was real?]

They... They're still under it. They all think they're still in that place.

[Just like himself, still suffering, afraid, helpless against the barriers or collars. The realization gives him focus and he moves to approach the nearest familiar figure to try and help out.]

Hey, can you hear me?

[slapthelibrarian]

[ There's no time for thinking, or worrying, just action. And that's what Nicole does: she runs like she's never ran before, until she gets to- wherever this is, and at that point, she sees the weird static figures everywhere down there. It's a nightmare, that much is clear. The combination of cells plus otherworldly figures she's never seen before can only mean one thing: this is bad, and the sooner the people housed in those cells are broken free, the better.

There's one person in particular she's looking for, and as luck would have it, it doesn't take long for her to find him. Or, more accurately, to hear him. It's muffled, of course, but she could pick that voice out of any crowd anywhere.

There are none of the static people around, so Nicole seizes her chance and creeps up to where he is. Something strange is going on here. Flynn doesn't appear to be restrained as far as she can see, but he's also not making any attempts to leave. ]

Flynn? Can you hear me?

cw: joint breaks, blood, trauma, assisted suicide offers?

[sharktrash]

-- 1. the rescue

(( ooc: red-lined characters can make attempts but he will not trust them. Ginger shall succeed! Flynn might also have some luck if he comes by. ))

::

[ At some point he stops trying to tear the chain out. ]

[ Squalo's on the floor, back rested against the wall, arms hanging uselessly at his sides - both splinted and bandaged, though the mechanical hand seems to be in a slightly weird angle, as if it had been re-fitted improperly. There's blood on his mouth, and bloody stains in his hair in the shape of handprints. ]

[ He's not moving, aside from occasionally pulling the back of his head away from the wall and then bashing it in again, as if trying to shake up something that'd give him a better idea on how to get out. Or just survive. Or just use the pain to momentarily distract himself from this insufferable feeling of helplessness. ]

[ His lips seem to move every now and then, too. If anyone bothers trying to read it, it's mostly "fuck" and other expletives. But every now and then, it switches into something slightly more unsettling; him mouthing the words "I will wait", over and over. ]



-- 2. outside

[ Squalo got a little bit of luck in that he can still walk, though he doesn't seem particularly happy about that. The illusion is broken; he's not going to dwell over the fact how fucking stupid they all looked just standing there. ]

[ But his bones are still broken. ]

[ If the snippets of conversations he's overheard are true, then if this is really the end, he'll end up where he was before. By himself, not that company would be acceptable, unable to do anything -- even get water to his mouth, probably -- without fucking up at least one of his arms even worse. And if he does that, he won't be able to fight. ]

[ And if that happens, there's no point to anything anymore. ]

[ His expression and voice's so casual, if still hoarser than usual when he addresses whoever happens to be passing by, you'd think he's asking to pass the salt. ]

Hey. Be a dear and kill me, won't you?

1

[lacecase]

Oh--dear, what are you doing?

[Yeah, only one person would have the sort of nature to call Squalo a "dear" so he can probably guess who's coming over to help him. Now that she's been shaken out of her own delusion, well, this is a very different picture. She can guess that the (frankly very aggressive) man probably won't have too many people willing to talk him down from whatever ledge he's mentally climbed onto. Still, she's not about to leave anyone behind, and she's sure many of the others share that mentality.]

It's okay now--we can leave.

[Ginger kneels carefully down next to him. She's clearly gotten out of her own chains somehow, that's for sure.]

[termineur]

A: Open to All
[ Of course Gabriel is here. He's frowning and stomping around- and looking for a few specific people. Regardless of who he's run into here, though, if they catch his eye he'll stop his stomping and crouch down to address them. ]

We're gonna get you out of here, okay? What do you see around you?


B: For anyone he knows fairly well (feel free to ask or just reply!)

[ Finding one of his targets, he comes up and sits cross-legged on the floor next to them. The relief is clear on his face, but his voice takes on a very casual tone. ]

You know you're all just sitting in an empty room, right?

[darkincrement]

[ He's still sitting there with his knees against his chest, and his arms hugging them tightly against him. He still has the hospital bracelet and jumpsuit. The bandages are still there, as well, but he's not as injured as those without lines.

Once he hears Gabriel's voice, he laughs in disbelief. He thought the illusions have gone away, but this place decided to show him something much worst. It's showing him hope. ]

You aren't really here.

cw: blood, paranoia, fracture, head trauma, nausea and implications of vomitting

[heroproceeding]

For Billy (Rescued) & later Zell

[ Been a long time since he'd felt this sick and weak. The post office comes to mind- a long time ago. Back when he'd ignored and ignored the symptoms until they crashed head first into him. When he'd suddenly fallen in the snow and just couldn't get up. Except there doesn't seem to be any kind of cool reprieve here. He didn't want to eat, but it doesn't matter to their invisible captors. Too bad nothing keeps and he lays there on his back now, feeling almost half mummified. Tired and thirsty and pretty damn miserable.

He wonders briefly when they'll get out of there. If they'll get out of there this time. It's hard to say. This might be it. But it's a passing thought as he allows himself to close his eyes again and drifts... At least until he hears the scattered echo of some hurried footsteps and cracks open an weary eye. ]

Rescuer (Open)

[ Just because he's out, doesn't mean he's about to turn his back on the rest of them. Especially as he feels the nausea and everything fade. A part of him wonders if that illusion will grip him again the moment he steps back in. But it doesn't and Zack doesn't hesitate after that, scoring through the hallways as quickly and quietly as he can manage. Ducking off when he has to but otherwise making progress as rapidly as possible.

He still doesn't expect the room to be so empty despite what he's already been told. But he brushes that aside shortly after, hurrying over to the nearest victim. Hunkers down next to them and reaches out carefully. ]

Hey...

For Angel

[ There's an echo of a memory somewhere out there. Something that just seems to float before it just dissipates like a puff of smoke, leaving nothing more than an uneasy feeling. But it's with that uneasy feeling that Zack finds her. Finds her and touches a hand to her shoulder as he leans in. ]

Angel- Hey, Angel.

For Zell

[ As numbers dwindle in the room, there's been a slow, cold feeling starting to grow in his gut. It'd started when he'd first stepped back into the room and not seen him, but Zack had dismissed it. Argued with himself that maybe someone got to him first. That maybe someone else got him out already and he'd barreled through since. But it doesn't erase the feeling. Not in the least. Even as he finally spies Zell again, waving over to him as he approaches. ]

Hey- Zell, have you seen Kuns?

[ Maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe he shouldn't be feeling this paranoid. He hopes so. ]

[phaseshifter]

[ The worst thing about being locked away is how quickly Angel has gotten used to it again. She misses being free(ish), sure. She misses sharing space with other people. But it's all very abstract, like a mild nostalgia for something that happened long ago. There's a feeling that she should be grateful for this, since her imprisonment isn't making her suffer as acutely as some of the others, but... It kind of feels like none of it was real. Like the next time she opens her eyes, she'll be lying on the floor of the control core looking up at the broken machinery as the life ebbs out of her.

Which is why she's been sitting on the floor with her eyes shut for fifteen minutes solid. The hand on her shoulder and Zack's voice startle her into opening them, though. ]

Zack?

[ Blink blink. ]

I - you - you're supposed to knock before you barge into someone's room.

[ When in doubt, provide shitty jokes. THE FRICKIE IS GOING ON HERE?? ]

[averytinyparticle]

a.; closed to alfie

[After making sure that Junpei and Diana are both freed from their perceptions of being trapped inside of a cell, Quark sticks around to see if there’s anyone else who needs help. It doesn’t take him long to spot where Alfie’s positioned, and he darts the rest of the way over, probably appearing to Alfie to dart straight through the forcefield or even the wall of the cell itself.]

Mister Alfie! Don’t worry, I’m here to help!

b.; open to all for rescuing attempts, successful or unsuccessful!

[If anyone’s still stuck where they are, either laying down because they think they’re on a bed or they think they’re chained, Quark will put his best foot forward. He steps up and offers his hands.]

C’mon, we’re getting out of here. Can you walk? I’m not so strong, but I’ll try and support you if you need.

[devoutish]

[Alfie's sitting propped up against the wall, looking halfway out of it as he fiddles with one of the many bandages that covers his body. He looks up at Quark's voice, though, and a thinly-veiled look of alarm crosses his face. He knows what "help" usually means in situations like this. Quark is going to grab him and drag him off to some surgery room, isn't he?]

... Quark.

[But he knows there's no way that he can talk him out of it.]

[bywolves]

A → for rescuers (both unsuccessful and ecks!)

[ Tired. He's just - really tired. Every time he opens his eyes the room spins, so he just doesn't open his eyes anymore. His stomach churns uncomfortably, the food he was force-fed not sitting right. And - he doesn't cry, but his breathing shivers like he might, like he's holding it back. This is the type of exhaustion he's familiar with. This is more like Manzant. A prison where the prisoners claw and scratch and try to eat each other before retreating to curl up miserably for the day to try and sleep off the horrors of the night before. Startlingly familiar.

But for as dizzy as he is, he can't stop himself from talking to her. Feverishly and disjointedly, Royce curls up in his cell (it's not a cell at all, he's just on the floor, he just can't see the reality of it) and mumbles to someone named Gwen, asking her out loud, soft, for water, please, Gwen --

He doesn't notice anybody around him - not unless they specifically try to talk to him. ]

B → for watson

[ He doubts anybody is going to stop him from walking up to and crouching down next to Watson, a while later. It probably looks like he comes through the wall, actually. He's still feverish, sweating and pale, but his eyes are more lucid than they were. Carefully, Royce sets a hand down on Watson's shoulder. ]

John. Look at me.

C → for lilly

[ This one he's a little more careful with. Royce hadn't seen what she looked like before when they'd talked, but judging by the fact that she's the only little girl, he can't just... leave her. There's a pause, and then he crouches down a few feet away, warily. ]

Little wolf. [ Royce says, easy and light. ] Are you ready to leave?

D → wildcard

[ There's something in him that digs under his skin - a voice, gentle, whispering help the rest of them too, Royce. Maybe it's the hallucinations sticking around, or maybe his conscience is kicking in, but. After he's helped two people, he feels wrong leaving. If there's anybody left, he crouches down next to them, watching them quietly, waiting for them to notice him. He'll help, if he can. ]

[ And even after - he'll be dizzily trying to get out of the room, to find people he cares about. ]

[fuckingwolverine]

[With a grouchy growl and a shift away from him, she shakes her head, pointing towards the front of her little room. Nope, there's totally a barrier there. See? She should know; she's tried crashing through it often enough.]

cw: language and everything else that comes with Nathan

[notaquaman]

a.; semi-open for failed attempts, closed to Watson for rescue

[Nobody’s coming. Nobody, nobody, nobody. Nathan rocks in his cell, stuck in something he can’t get out of, face in his hands.]

Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, it should’ve been me. Fuck, fuck--

[He repeats this over and over, the repetition barely broken save for other colorful phrases to pepper his misery. Why should he expect to get out? Why should he bother hoping? Anyone who cared is dead now, right? There’s nobody left. And now he’s just that Irish prick.]

b.; open to all for rescuing attempts, successful or unsuccessful!

[Okay, so nobody wants Nathan’s help, probably. And, probably, he’ll just make it worse. Moreover, he probably already thought about being a selfish coward and ducking out as soon as he was freed.

Damn, actually having a heart under all of that grime and sass. He groans as he’s about to sidestep whoever’s still stuck believing they’re trapped and plans his feet firmly, instead. Time to be a fucking hero, or something.]

Hey.

[Smooth.]

Ready for a change of scenery? I know I am.

A

[jumpthegun]

[John's still a little unsteady on his feet, but there are people he needs to help. One of them is someone he thinks he might have a better chance getting through to than some. Nathan's words are troubling as John kneels down next to the young man.]

I thought the song goes 'It's gonna be me.' [Enjoy your 90's boy band reference, Nathan.] C'mon, mate. The others came. We're getting out.

[thewarningafter]

A - closed to Peter

[There was never any question regarding whether Stephen would go back for the others once he was free of the illusion. There's one person in particular, though, for whom he makes a beeline. Stephen comes right up to Peter without any consideration for what walls he might appear to be walking through on his way, coming close enough to lay a hand on Peter's shoulder.]

Peter--Peter, look at me. It's time to go. We have to go.


B - Rescue attempts (successful or not), OTA

Hey--I know what you're seeing right now, but it isn't real. None of this has been real. I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to believe me and you have to stand up and come with me.

[zunesareawesome]

[Peter's asleep with feverish, delirious dreams. In his mind, he's not in his cell, it's the Milano and he's chilling in his pilot's seat, and they're on their way to some new job. Everything is as it should be.

In reality, he's leaning back against what he thinks is a wall, opening his eyes with that feverish delirium.]

Oh hey. No, it's not time yet. We still got like...a couple hours before we get there.

[What's Stephen doing there? He has no idea. But it doesn't really matter, does it?]

cw: Hannibal canon, vomiting - closed to House

[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal is kneeling on the floor, eyes closed, taking slow, deliberate breaths. He is twice removed from reality, his body chained within a dank, moldy cell, his mind in the hushed silence of the Palermo chapel, watching the light of a thousand candles flickering upon the altar and the crucifix suspended above it. He is contemplating the notion of beautiful suffering, a way of slowly working through the horrors of being torn apart for hours, of having vile things shoved down his throat, causing his body to rebel against his conscious control and throw it all up.

He looks battered, his mouth smeared with mold and bile, his visible flesh mostly covered with bandages that bloom with blood. His expression is placid, but anyone who knows him knows that, perhaps more than anyone, still waters run deep, dark, and cold.]

cw's continue for the thread

[rubikscomplex]

[House hadn't been sure who to go to first. Will would be preferable, but House also suspects he's going to be harder to pull from a delusion just given Will's... imagination. Wilson had been able to pull House free from it, but he can easily see Will rationalizing what he's seeing and every reasonable argument away. It would be good to have back-up. He also doesn't particularly trust that something unfortunate might not happen with Hannibal in his current state. Better to have someone who's aware of what he is trying to wake him up.

The doctor sees the state of him, reads some of what happened in mess on his mouth connected to his own experience and the videos of Will being force-fed toilet paper smeared with unidentifiable filth.]

What's up, doc? Ready to rejoin the land of the probably living, but definitely frozen?

[House steps in front of Hannibal, just out of immediate arm's reach, and kneels down in front of him.]

I'm sure it's not as nice as wherever you are right now, but it has the benefit of being more real... and being where you'll be more likely to find Miller.

[howdull]

[i: closed to John]

[Everything hurts.

It's a bone deep ache that seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, and it's just prevalent enough to stop him from being able to concentrate properly. And he desperately needs to concentrate properly, he needs to use his brain and find a way out of here before anything else goes wrong.

This is what he does, isn't it? He solves the puzzles and keeps anyone else from being hurt.

Think, Sherlock!]

[ii: ota]

[Now that Sherlock has been given back clarity, he's moving like a force possessed. It's so much easier to turn the disquieting fear of having his mind turned against him into anger, into motion, into action. He's striding up to anyone who still looks as though they're trapped, jaw set.]

Come on, get up.

i

[jumpthegun]

[Sherlock is the first one John goes to. He has to. As soon as he's out, as soon as he's steady enough on his feet, he leaves Royce's company and heads for where he can see his best friend.

It might look like John's walking through the wall. He's still sweaty from the fever and mildly dizzy, but he tries his best to focus on Sherlock, coming over to place a hand on the other man's shoulder.]

Sherlock, it's over. We're in a big empty room with mold. No cells. People've got in from outside.

closed to Tess

[armoured]

[Al isn't hard to hear coming, his metal feet pound on the ground as he runs into this room and sees-- why are they all just sitting and not trying to get out? His heart lurches and he bends to the nearest person, crouching down to her level with an urgent voice.]

Hey--- hey, can you hear me? Can you see me?

[motherserpent]

[Tess is hiding in the corner of her cell when he comes, which means she's curled up tight on herself in the middle of the empty floor, head down as she tries to stay quiet. She gives a violent start when his loud footsteps draw near, giving him a wild-eyed look. Is this the next stage? Static, and then automatons? She tries to draw away, but there's nowhere to go when she already believes that she's wedged into a corner.]

Don't--don't, don't, please--

[plaguenurse]

A: closed to Quark

[When Quark finds her, she'll be lying in her bed--or so she thinks, anyway. In reality, she's lying on the floor, staring at a wall that only exists in her perception and wondering if she even deserves to leave.]


B: open

[After being rescued, the idea of not doing everything she can to help the others get out is simply unfathomable. Though she doesn't know how much help she'll really be, she hovers anxiously near those who might still need assistance, especially if they've got less mobility.

She can also be found approaching the rescuers, occasionally managing a small offer of assistance.] Um... If you're worried about how to handle them with their injuries, I can help...

B

[warriorscribe]

[Of course Enoch wouldn't leave without trying to rescue people. There's someone in particular he hasn't found yet. He's hoping he's been rescued already, but if he hasn't, he'll need help...

He turns as Diana approaches. She doesn't look like she'll be able to help lift, but...]

Do you know the best way to carry someone with a back injury?

(OTA rescue attempts successful or not) cw: strangulation, potentially religious imagery

[cosmicwords]

[chaos is standing still whenever anyone approaches him, staring fixedly at the ceiling, hands clenched into fists.

The slight glaze in his normally clear eyes indicates that he is not all here.

His body is, but he is attempting to reach his spirit out into the atmosphere. He is attempting to extend a power that is no longer a part of him.

If he keeps trying, then, maybe...]

sorry hitting this quick to get it started \o/

[swatsflies]

[ He checks him over as he approaches. Seeing what wounds he might have to worry about as he moves in to put a hand carefully on his shoulder. ]

Hey man, are you okay?

cw: dissociation and mental instability ( Closed to Hannibal and House )

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ They were disappearing.

One by one, the cell blocks emptied as the men and women he'd been speaking with simply ceased to exist. The first couple of times, Will wondered if Miller was going for round too, but there was an unevenness in the way people disappeared.

And no static.

The cell block grew eerily silent, and Will began to run up and down it's length. He lost track of House first, scanning the cells twice in the desperate hopes that he'd simply missed the man, but there was nothing. Next was Hannibal, there one moment but then gone the next and with him the last voice, Will could hear.

"HANNIBAL!" He'd screamed, running back and forth three times before he tripped over his own feet and went crashing down onto his destroyed hands. The pain rocketed up his arms, and nearly left him heaving. As he lay there, gasping, Will become aware of nothing but the sound of his own panting breath.

Everything went still then.

The cell block remained, but it became fractured. Splitting between the perceptions of the moldering block and the familiar landscape of the BSHCI. Pushing himself up to a seated position, Will leaned back against the cell bars, only he felt the smooth press of plexiglass against his spine; not rigid metal.

As he sat there, the sound of hoofs against stone echoed down the corridor. Slowly, Will turned his head and looked to where the Ravenstag was emerging from a cell down at the end.

The animal was enormous in the small space, seeming as if he shouldn't even fit and yet he always did. The large rack of antlers were especially sharp and gleamed in weak light, as if soaked in some thick, viscous liquid. His sharp, bright eyes looked at Will expectantly, even as he walked right up to the seated man.

Will stared at the animal, before he closed his eyes. In the next moment he felt a searing pain across his lower abdomen, heard a weak, gurgling cry ... like a dove with its throat slit. He screwed his eyes shut even tighter, not wanting to see what he knew was on the other side.

A sharp snort and stomp of a hoof forced Will to look. The moldering cellblock was in the background, like a picture that was just out of focus or didn't quite fit the frame. Hannibal's kitchen stood all around him, looking large and intimidating from his place on the floor. He could see Abigail's legs, hear her last breaths as she choked on her own blood.

I never made it out of here. The thought came unbidden and Will's brows drew together, because he was sure he remembered surviving. Italy, Verger, Molly ... the cliff.

The fantasy of a dying mind. Wanting victory, instead of defeat. Wanting a normal life, a friend, genuine connections, instead of weeks of murder and darkness.

No. No that wasn't right.

Except, would it be so bad if it were?

'Lay your head back, Will and wade into the quiet of the stream.'

Maybe he had, after all. Maybe all of this had been the last firings of a dying brain and now, it had all gone quiet.

The stag bellowed then, making Will jump and for a moment, everything was clear. The moldering cell block, Miller ... but even as it came to him, it slid away. Like water escaping desperately cupped palms.

Will closed his eyes again, raced away from the pain in his hands and the confusion in his mind. Retreated to the stream. He waded into it, but he didn't tilt his head back. Instead he cast a fly line out into the small rapids downstream and purposefully ignore the bellowing of the stag from where it stood on the riverbank. ]

[tablewithoutpity]

[Hannibal was all too aware of the fragile state of Will's mind. Indeed, he had explored it thoroughly, experimented on it, found it's weak spots and blind spots and taken advantage. So when he approached Will where he lay, he knew it would take some care to gather up the pieces of his friend and put them back together.

He crouched next to his friend, and watched his eyes moving behind his lids for a few moments before speaking.]

Will. Can you hear me?

For Mycroft

[howdull]

[It's fascinating to look at this room now that his eyes have been opened to the truth, and easy to see who still believes themselves trapped in nothing. Mycroft catches his eye and he strides over, ignoring the others still trapped in their delusions. They may not always get along, but Sherlock won't leave his brother here.]

Mycroft.

[Sharp and firm.]

You're lagging behind, you really are getting slow in your old age.

[holmesice]

[Mycroft's sitting in this blasted cell, lost in his thoughts, lost trying to manage a way out of here, still thinking he's got that awful collar around his neck, and he sounds mildly irritated that Sherlock's interrupted him. He doesn't question at first why he's actually out and about and in front of him.]

I didn't realize we were in such a hurry to get somewhere, brother dear.