[log] BUNKER MINGLE: EVENT EDITION [open]

[warriorscribe]

Characters: Anyone in the bunker!
Location: Anywhere in the bunker!
Date: Any time during the No Such Thing event
Summary: Miller's back, so that probably means Bad Things
Warnings: Put them in subject lines!

Make your own starters, you know the drill! Bunker location descriptions!

Comments

day 402;

[phaseshifter]

1 - closed to Squalo;

[ The ringing in her ears is annoying, but Angel doesn't take it too badly. At first, anyway. Even as it gets worse, it's offset by her noticing that her tablet's working again - even though it keeps cutting out, having it work at all is reassuring. It means things might be back to normal soon! Yay!

It's only when she starts hearing the voice, and when she realises who it is, that Angel starts to freak out. Nope. Noooope. Just the sound of Robert Miller's voice brings it all back - the cells, everyone being dragged off and drugged, the people who got brought in after and the things that happened to them. The helplessness of it all. The awful gnawing uncertainty about what she might have done and the people she might have done it to.

Nope. Again. She's done being used to hurt people. She'd decided that before even coming to Norfinbury, right? She has to cut this off before it gets bad, and her best bet is -- ]

Squalo?

[ Okay, it's definitely not unusual for her to be seeking him out. The brittle, anxious expression is pretty new, though. She taps his arm in case she's speaking too quietly to be heard - it's a little hard to tell how loudly she's speaking with the ever-present ringing. At least he's like the one person in town who won't have to raise his voice more than usual for her to hear him, though. ]

Can I ask for a favour? Um, a - a private favour.

[ NOT LIKE THAT, GEEZ ]



2 - OTA;

[ To the untrained eye, Angel is taking all this ear-ringy, Robert-Millery bullshit pretty well. She's sitting on one of the beds in room 02 and sorting through the contents of her bag, which are spread out on the mattress around her. Most of her things seem to be making their way back inside the backpack, but every now and then she places an item into a smaller drawstring bag instead. Apparently now is the time for getting organised?

She's too absorbed in what she's doing to really notice anyone approaching, especially with her ears ringing as they are. You might have to physically poke her if you want a chat. ]

111

[sharktrash]

[ Dammit Angel. You should have applied that insistency about safety to your tablet as well. :/ If you hadn't stuck it who knows where we wouldn't be in this situation right now. ]

[ Squalo's not hearing any ringing, but that doesn't mean he's speaking any quieter than usual. He's probably incapable of it. Small miracles, nobody will ever need to ask him to repeat anything. ]

[ He turns, taking in her expression. That's... a bit unusual. He wonders if he's supposed to comment on it or pretend everything's normal. Casuality might be more comforting here. ]

Hey, thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll tell you how to blow a guy.

[ NAILED IT ]

[phaseshifter]

SQUALO.

[ JESUS H CHRIST. At least the anxious expression has now been replaced by the oh-so-familiar blushy mortification? That's totally a success. LOOK HOW GREAT SQUALO IS AT EASING WORRIES.

Or something. ]

That's not what - oh my god I bet the whole bunker heard that and - mzplrfk. You aren't making it any easier for me to ask this! Geez.

 

You can give me tips some other time.

Day 402 (part 2) ; cw: attempted suicide, possible discussion of torture/mutilation

[warriorscribe]

[The tinnitus he can deal with. It's annoying, but it's not the end of the world. But when he hears Miller, and thinks he can hear something about "borrowing" them? Then it just might be.

With his tablet working again, he emerges from the bunker in search of answers...and finds that he was right. Before he can even begin to say I'm sorry, as the idea forms in his mind to simply walk off and not go back inside, the ringing becomes overwhelmingly loud, like his brain is vibrating where it sits and he can't even think. He doesn't even remember what he'd gone outside for, when the noise subsides. Swaying in dizziness, he goes back inside and finds his way to one of the safe rooms to warm up.

Until about an hour later when he remembers. That's not good. It's not good at all. He gets up and goes for the door again. He can't let Miller claim him another time!

But it's only to find the ringing in his ears turns into that dizzying loud screech before he's even left the room. He comes to his senses an hour later again, curled up somewhere in the room half-asleep like nothing's wrong.]

No...no, no...

[Desperate, he digs in his backpack until he comes up with a knife - a paring knife, sharpened. Good enough. He grips it tightly, turns it against his own throat.]

I won't let you, Miller, I won't-

[He drops the knife with a cry of pain as the noise takes over again, and slumps against the wall, a vacant, even bored-looking stare coming over his features. When that passes...]

He already has us. He already- no...no, no, no, no...

[He repeats that no until he's broken into tears.]

I can't, I can't, not again...

[phaseshifter]

[ As she's been busying herself with her own preparations, Angel misses the actual attempts Enoch makes on his own life. It's only by chance that she walks in on the aftermath, and even though she can't quite make out what he's saying she gets the general idea.

Of course she understands. The tendency towards self-sacrifice and abhorrence of being used to hurt others are things they have in common, after all. ]

Hey - hey, no, shhh --

[ He probably can't hear her, since she isn't raising her voice. It isn't the words that matter, anyway, but more the way she kneels beside him to pull him into a fierce little hug. ]

It's okay. We're okay. Shhhh.

[warriorscribe]

[What can he do but cling back? He can't do anything to stop this. Whatever Miller has in mind for them, he can't protect anyone. Not by removing himself, at least, which is the only agency he can truly hope to have. Except he'd already taken control. And is promising to do worse.]

Angel, he won't- I don't want to be his pawn again. I don't want to hurt you, or anyone. I don't want to see you forced into this.

[And he can't take a stand against it.]

He's taunting us.

[How clearly can she hear him? He doesn't know. He isn't raising his voice but she's also right next to him. But his voice is shaking. He's shaking, and can't stop.]

[swatsflies]

[ He's making his rounds to check in with anyone who might have lost access to the network or might be flipping out over whatever it is that Miller plans. That's when he spots Enoch there against the wall. He's saying something... ]

Hey, Enoch. What's up-

[ And then he really gets a look at him and sees the tears. Closing the space between to put a hand on him. ]

Hey, man. What's wrong?

[ Does the ringing hurt that much or is he hurt? ]

[warriorscribe]

[He doesn't quite catch all of what Zell says but it doesn't take much to understand. What else would go with that concern?]

I can't do it again, I can't hurt anyone again...I've had enough of being forced to be someone I'm not.

402

[fiftheclipse]

[1] - Morning

[At first, the sound's easy enough to pass off as having to do with the tablets acting up. Don't electronics do that sometimes? Quieter, usually, but still. The point is, while it's not fun, it's not worrying, either. And as a result, Junpei may not be taking the right part of this situation as seriously as anyone else. He wants to find the source, and after having dug through his backpack only to see it's not his tablet having powered on, he's really not sure about things.

So there's only one way to start figuring it out:]

Hey, you hear that too?


[2] - Day

[As time brings something new to the noise, Junpei drops whatever he was doing. The building pain of its volume was one thing, but to hear a voice inside it, now? That voice?

That's not right. Not at all.]

Now you wanna talk? C'mon, I can't tell what you're--

[Despite the pain and the trouble even hearing himself speak, others might catch Junpei trying to respond to Miller. Because that whole talking to people who aren't really there thing is totally something that happens. No big deal.

Or, they might see him a little bit later when he's started to put things together. When he's realized for the most part, that the others hearing this have something in common.]

... You guys think this bastard's all that was left to answer us?

[Wouldn't that make the most sense?]

2

[warriorscribe]

[Strangely enough, Enoch doesn't seem to be freaking out or even disturbed. He's curled up, wrapped up in his cloak and blankets, using his backpack as a pillow. He's not totally asleep, though, since he responds to Junpei just fine.]

Hm? Who is?

[He's not oblivious, he's just been hit with Miller's little failsafe and is still out of it.]

[fiftheclipse]

Huh?

[So he's awake? Alright. Theory is a go.]

Miller. I mean--

[... Okay. Hearing the voice in his head is easy. Talking over it and holding a conversation with someone really there? Not so much. Trying again.]

What if this is 'cause of that seance? Think this is what we got for reaching out?

1

[rubikscomplex]

[House is curled up on one of the beds in Room 2. He hasn't really moved since burying Wilson's body out in the snow yesterday apart from getting up to relieve himself or drink and eat when Will prompts him. He's aware of people coming and going, the tinnitus. His tone is flat when he responds to Junpei. He doesn't look over at the young man.]

It happened in a dream.

[fiftheclipse]

[That sounds sort of dismissive, at first. Understandable, considering everything, but...]

So you wanna go with "maybe it's a dream" again?

[It would sure be a better scenario than what he's pretty sure the answer's really suggesting: That this isn't new.

When he continues, Junpei's tone finally seems serious. The least he can do to show he's aware the joking probably isn't wanted.]

... Any idea what caused it, back then?

402

[godsspeed]

[ Castiel can cope with being deafened. He's already down most of the senses he's become accustomed to in his long life, so really, what's one more? The constant nonsense input drowning everything else out is irritating, but there are worse things it could be. If anything, Castiel finds it somewhat soothing. It reminds him of how he and his siblings once spoke among themselves in the ringing language of angels, though of course there's no real words or meaning to be found here.

Until there is.

The moment Castiel hears the distant voice, he immediately leaps to his feet from where he'd been sitting against the wall, tilting his head from side to side and turning in place to try to find the source. ]

Is someone there? Please, I can't understand you. [ It couldn't really be one of his brothers, could it? It didn't sound right - that wasn't really true Enochian - but Castiel has never heard an angelic presence through mostly human ears, before. Maybe this is what it's like. It's enough for him to get his hopes up, at least for this moment. ]

[warriorscribe]

[Enoch looks up at Castiel's movement. He just barely makes out what he's saying over the increasing volume of his own tinnitus, but he can make the connection - after all, they're both affected. Castiel must be reacting to the same voice he's hearing.]

I don't think he's with us physically, whoever he is.

[After all, if it sounds directionless from two different points in the room...]

[godsspeed]

[ It takes Castiel a moment to notice that Enoch is trying to speak to him, as preoccupied as he is with trying to hear the other voice over the ringing. It takes until he’s turned to look at him and sees his lips moving for him to properly focus and listen. ]

You can hear him too? Do you understand what he’s saying?

Day 403

[ninjainviolet]

A: Afternoon:

Sheena's in room 2 on one of the lower bunks going through her possessions slowly, her brows knitting in confusion occasionally.

"Now, what am I doing again? Oh yeah." And she'll resume her search--only to stop again--this time putting her backpack on the floor. She's supposed to do something--something important, but she couldn't quite remember what it is.

Realization hits, and her eyes light up, only for her to suddenly become confused as she places her hand beside her. Looking down, she glances up as someone walks by.

"Excuse me, but have you seen my backpack?"

You know, the very one she put on the floor?


B: Later Afternoon:

The ninja is getting worse. And it's not just from the constant ringing in her ears or the incessant message in Robert Miller's voice. She can't focus, can't piece together thoughts, but that's not stopping her from trying.

Unfortunately, the person across from her isn't spared from any of this, as she realizes she's stared at them for a long time. But, had she said anything? She can't remember.

"Ummm...did I ask you something right now?"


[ ooc: She knows there's something up, but she may go into stories about home with this. Or just make random comments.

And by evening, she's just going to fall (literally) into a coma. ]

Day 403 | cw compulsive behavior; drug use

[thewarningafter]

[This is shameful, useless, counterproductive. Dangerous, even, if the wrong person sees what he's doing and gets ideas. But in the face of the mounting pain in his head, fear over what comes next, and guilt over his responsibility for their current predicament, the MN poisoning has won out over Stephen's good sense. Always anymore when he has nothing left else left to keep him grounded, there's one behavior that comforts him.

He huddles in a corner, tucked as far out of sight as he can manage, stealing furtive glances out at the room. In front of his crossed legs is a handkerchief onto which he pours out each of the medications he's carrying, one at a time, carefully counting the pills before returning them to their bottles. His own rapidly diminishing supply of Pregabalin is first; with only ten days' worth left (five, really, but he's been halving it for two weeks now) it's quick to be counted and put away again. The Amoxicillin is next as he forces himself to hold off on checking the Vicodin, kidding himself that maybe he'll be able to resist the urge to get that last bottle out at all.

Partway through counting this time he seems to drift off, gaze going distant for a long moment as his hand hovers, shaking, over the pills.]

day 403; cw: murder attempts/talk

[sharktrash]

-- 1. open to the awake

[ It's been looking suspicious for a while now, but when the majority of the bunker - ones that Squalo isn't sure have anything in common - go still, it's clear that something is going on. ]

[ Some of them managed to land comfortably enough, others are less lucky. Squalo might help if he comes across someone he likes (like Angel or maybe even Harley) by moving them to a nearest bed. If it's Angel, he might actually even be careful about it, maybe tie her to the bed with a sheet or something else wide that shouldn't cause injuries, but he doesn't linger too long. ]

[ Lights out. Was this another "event"? If that were the case... ]

[ He did promise to put a stop to it if he could. What would happen when they woke up? It would be really easy to take care of it right now. Preemptive action. Squalo fingers the scalpel in his pocket as he walks across the room, pausing when out the corner of his eye he sees someone else move. ]

[ Ah, another one spared by the mysterious coma has walked in. He vaguely nods at the unconscious residents. ]

Maybe we should take precautions.

[ bY FUCKING MURDERING EVERYONE, ]


-- 2. closed to Stephen

[ He'll make sure to start somewhere where he'll be alone - or with Xanxus and Bester, as he knows neither of them will make a move to stop him. Despite his earlier talk with Angel, he wants to leave her for last. If it becomes absolutely necessary. Or just so he can give it a little more time. It's not like it would be a hard to restrain her, right? No, first of all he'll do the cleaning. ]

[ Squalo stops by the first lifeless form, examining it for a moment. He recognizes the man from pictures, has probably seen him at some point, haven't really spoken properly. One of the doctors. Sort of ironic. He leans down, touch almost gentle as he tilts the man's head slightly and swiftly drives the scalpel's point forward, but as soon as it touches skin -- ]

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen's arm snaps up with almost preternatural speed to knock the blade away. Blood beads up from the shallow cut left by the scalpel across his throat, but he doesn't seem to react at all to the pain as his other hand forms a fist he drives up into Squalo's nose. He doesn't react to the pain of that, either, though any blow delivered with his fists ought to be agony. Stephen's eyes are half open but his gaze remains blank and unfocused.]

[sharktrash]

[ Fucking ow. ]

[ Squalo manages to grip on the other man's arm quick enough to keep it from breaking anything, but there's still gonna be some blood trickling down his nose. ]

What the fuck?!

[ He tries to shove that arm away so he can get a better look at the man's face. ]

[ ...well that's unsettling. ]

Hey. Hey. [ If he gets the chance before he's TOTALLY UNDESERVEDYLY ASSAULTED AGAIN, he'll try shaking him. ] VOI, BEYONCE!!

Morning 402 (cw: disordered eating, depression)

[rubikscomplex]

[House hasn't really moved from Room 2's bunk beds since burying Wilson's body the day before apart from getting up to take relieve himself in the evil mold out in the other rooms. He has the ringing in his ears, but he's ignoring it. His tablet is dead, anyway, so there's nothing to be gained reaching out to pick it up.

A part of him knows that he's being entirely dramatic. There's nothing to say Wilson won't come back... except that everything in his head says the other man won't be back. It's not really fair wanting him here in the first place, but that doesn't much change the desire.

His appetite, already tenuous, has evaporated completely; though, he occasionally sips water. When he hears someone moving over, House just closes his eyes. He's on the bottom bunk at the back of the room, curled on his side and faced toward the wall.]

Unless you're dying from something other than MN or mold, go away.

(cw: drug addiction & grief )

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ When they had finished burying Wilson, Will had watched as House retreated, both physically as well as mentally and emotionally. He'd left well enough alone, and done what he could to run interference so House could retreat without a parade of well (or otherwise) wishers trying to poke the bear.

He'd expected the snarl, and in a lot of ways it was a positive sign from House. The snarl was action, rather than the apathy of a grief stricken drug addict. Will could work with hostility. He could work with silence, had done so with Jack. But unlike with Jack there was no luxury of time to wait things out.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he began to rustle the cellophane wrapper of a package of peanut butter crackers. One of the first meals they'd ever shared. ]

You're not going to get the answer you want. [ Will said quietly. ] Even if he was here for you to ask; it wouldn't be the answer you want to hear.

Day 404, waking up post-event

[warriorscribe]

[He knows exactly what a throat screamed raw feels like. That part of Day 11 is not so distant in his mind. But at least he remembers why he was screaming. What did Miller do? He tugs on the handcuffs chaining him to the bed, the memory of asking Zell to keep him from hurting others fuzzy but present enough the alarm doesn't last long. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and it may be difficult to hear him.]

Zell? Angel? Anyone?

[This probably looks very strange to anyone who doesn't remember seeing him break down or being handcuffed.]

A little later!

[bookofnope]

Angel - Rhys?!

[At first, Beckett had just paced, gone around the bunker peeking into rooms. It seemed the logical thing to do with his voice barely functioning. But he's on his fifth circuit now. Neither hair nor hide of either of the two. His alarm overcomes his good sense, exacerbated by that familiar, gut-churning feeling that his mind, memories, self have been tampered with again. He's seen the others, Enoch, House, Zell. He needs to see Angel and Rhys and make sure - ]

Where - ?! [That's all he gets out before his throat gives way and he spits blood. His own blood, not a taste he ever enjoys. Breathless with mounting panic, he rounds back. Enoch. He has to find Enoch at least. Voiceless and wild-eyed, he comes in to clutch desperately at his friend's sleeve.]