( 019 ) Ω ( VOICE + SPAM )

[semifreakingnormal]

[When the audio comes on, there's some wind, distant bird calls; it doesn't take a great detective to tell that he's in the CES.]

Peter's gone. His door's - normal again.

[He lapses into silence for a moment, then lets out a long breath.]

Does this always happen in groups?

[Infirmary Wardens Filter]

[Scott's not sure how to start, here. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but he owes Jack this, and he's not going to back away.]

I know inmates don't usually get keys, but after what happened last week, I think Jack needs one. I can tell you - as his warden - that the reasons he's here have nothing to do with what he can do as a doctor. He's a good one, and he's not gonna get anywhere without trust. I'm going to ask the Admiral for a key for him, but...I wanted to talk to you guys about it, first. To see if there are any problems I'm not seeing, I guess.

[Open spam in the CES]

[He's burning off energy with a lacrosse stick and a few balls and a make shift net. He scoops and throws, scoops and throws, and it's not helping, so he scoops faster, throws harder. When one of the balls tears through the goal and Scott is seeing in red, he twists his hands around the stick until he hears it creaking, and throws it at the ground.

There's nothing he can do. There's nothing he can do but keep going, and he's so--

Scott isn't good at talking things through. He's bad at finding the right words, using them right, and part of him just wants to take off running through the woods. He doesn't. He knows he can't run away from what he's feeling. Instead, he rakes his hands through his hair, down his face, clenches them into fists and yells up at the tree tops. It's not a howl, he doesn't make the trees around him shake, but there is an unearthly undertone to his voice, a growling baritone underneath it that stands as a reminder of what he is. When his voice fades, he picks up his stick and starts again.]

Comments

voice;

[interns]

Thanks for, um-

[ telling everyone ]

I tried, but I couldn't do it.

[ wwwwithout sounding completely unstable. ehh, unstable isn't the right word, and she doesn't sound that way now, she just sounds- kinda crushed. ]

voice;

[semifreakingnormal]

[He feels like he should have reached out to her first and silently kicks himself. It's another drop in the bucket, and he tries to set it aside.]

It's okay.

[He's not sure if he means she doesn't have to thank him, or if it'll be okay, or - he's just not sure.]

Do you want company, or anything? [He smiles a little, and it manages to slip into his voice.] I could bring a science book.

voice;

[interns]

I do like science books.

[ yeah, she's smiling a bit too ]

Company would be- really great, actually. I haven't really left my room outside of meal times for the last few days - totally lame, I know - so I think I'm due for some human interaction. I'd like that.

voice;

[semifreakingnormal]

Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. [He is feeling pretty lame himself, though that's spiraling out of feeling...pretty useless.]

I'll be there soon.

[He has a vague idea of what floor she's on, and - this still creeps him out - can follow his nose once he's close enough. True to his word, he brings a book - something chosen from the library completely at random, probably about quantum mechanics or something. He knocks.]

[hellofist]

[If it hadn't been for the yelling, Cass would have walked right on past the open door of the CES. It's not a yell of fear, so she isn't necessarily worried as she steps inside and looks around, but when she spots Scott, she understands why it sounded a little like the way wild dogs bay when they can't find a member of their pack.

Which is a weird way for a teenage human to sound when they shout, but his body language is suggesting maybe she's got that wrong. Interesting.]

Scott?

[She remembers his name and says it while she's still fairly far away from him, just in case he's the jumpy sort.]

[semifreakingnormal]

[Most of the time, Scott tries not to focus on what he can smell or hear. It's how he winds up surprised more often than not, it's how he stays a teenage boy, at least as much as he can. So she catches him by surprise, and he turns with a thankfully empty lacrosse stick in hand.

Not quite jumpy, just...startled.]

Oh. Cassandra, hi.

[He blinks, like he's not sure why she's here, and spins the stick in his hands.]

How...how are you?

[hellofist]

[Her answer is just a shrug, because she's doing her best to not think about all things Joker right now. The best way to beat him is to ignore him, not let his actions change her life, so she's trying to let that form her day to day, now that things have settled.

There's too much that's gone wrong, if she lets herself think about it nothing will be fixed.]

Can call me Cass. Since we're... on the same team. How are you?

[infirmary filter]

[lastincident]

[ Still trying to catch up, Bruce regards this groggily. Okay, he can answer that. ]

Only the Admiral grants keys. We have to ask, and in specific duties -- infirmary, engine room, and so on-- the keys only go to trained wardens. As much as I'd like to accommodate you, nobody in the infirmary can give him keys short of giving them up themselves, which I highly suggest against.

And considering we've had keys stolen in the past and a nanite-enhanced rabies epidemic released on the ship, the fewer keys we have out there, the better. [ He never did really forgive Selina for that. It utterly destroyed their relationship. ] This can be problematic in some ways, but... this is the balance we have to walk here.

[infirmary filter]

[semifreakingnormal]

No, no, I'm not saying any of you should give up a key. I want to ask the Admiral for one, I just wanted you guys to know. To talk about it first, I guess. That'd be better than him just showing up with one - I mean, no one's going to be well off if he gets accused of stealing his own key.

[infirmary filter]

[lastincident]

While I understand your desire-- frankly... some things can only come with graduation.

The limited ability to govern his own life and the limited trust we invest, well... That's part of being an inmate. I don't know what he's done and I'm not casting judgments there. But the average criminal does not often come here as an inmate, and that's why they're not treated as such, but there are still divisions to be made and lines drawn.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with wardens, as opposed to being part of the inmate population, including the supervised workers among the inmates, is probably not a good precedent to set. He'll get it when he's earned it through working on whatever his issues may be, as opposed to being given it by his warden.

[ Bruce Banner: Harsh dose of ugly reality while trying to get up to speed on everything with a fantastic case of bed hair. He knows he means well, but sometimes one has to be reminded that inmates are not always your friends and there are rules. ]

[ Of course, being a huge downer is why Bruce has so few friends. ]

Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles just stands a few yards away, watching as Scott pelts lacrosse ball after lacrosse ball into the net until one finally blows right through the goal. It's all compiling.

The nogitsune. Allison dying at home. The mirror barge. Peter vanishing from the ship. The chaos, the pain. Watching Allison die again. He might be an alpha werewolf, but at the end of the day, Scott is just a seventeen year old kid. And he's losing his hope.

The sound of the angry, pained yelling is almost too much to bear and he has to shut his eyes, letting out an inaudible, shaking breath. He flexes his fingers and lets his eyes open again, taking a couple of steps toward his best friend as Scott starts hurling lacrosse balls once more.]

Spam

[semifreakingnormal]

[He's struggling so hard to anchor himself, and none of it's working, not well enough. Scott hurls another ball, watches it clank off the edge of the net and go spinning in another direction. He pauses, breathing a little harder, to run a hand over his face.

That's when he hears Stiles. He turns, fighting his expression, trying to rally. He can do this. He has to be able to do this. Someone in control would say something, and Scott tries - but he can't find the right words. He just looks at Stiles, then drops his gaze down to the lacrosse stick in his hand.

He didn't get there in time.]

Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles isn't expecting or hoping for Scott to have the right words or to know how to handle all of this. It's too much for one person to bear the brunt of. He moves closer, until he's standing at Scott's side. He's not a werewolf. He's not some kind of supernatural being or anything special like Lydia or Needy or Peter. He's just...Stiles. But the lack of supernatural ability or heightened senses doesn't matter when it comes to the guy beside him.

He practically feels Scott's anger and guilt. All the weight he's carrying. He reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and he takes a deep breath. He's not great with motivational speeches. But he isn't sure that's what Scott needs right now anyway. Maybe what he needs is just a gentle reminder.]

Regression to the mean.

[private voice]

[lydiascreams]

I'm sorry about Peter. Did he say anything about leaving?

[Like Scott needs to deal with even more loss right now.]

[private voice]

[semifreakingnormal]

No. He disappeared from the ferris wheel, during the....thing.

[Disappeared, or fell. But he doesn't want to entertain that idea.]

[private voice]

[lydiascreams]

[She can ask a thousand questions. Is that normal? Have people disappeared during floods before? Do they come back? But chances are, those are the same questions Scott is already asking. And they won't help reassure him that Peter will be back.]

How are you holding up? [With Peter, with Allison, with Stiles.]

Filter

[fireincarnate]

[She doesn't respond, at first - just reads the conversation. She can see both point of view, really. She knows the infirmary has been taken advantage of before. She also knows how important it can be to know you're helping people.]

...Maybe we can do some sort of compromise? Especially if the Admiral agrees with Dr. Banner.

Jack could keep treating patients with supervision, until everyone is satisfied that he's completely trustworthy. The other doctors don't even have to be there - I can keep tabs from my office, psychically.

Filter

[semifreakingnormal]

[He's still angry, but he has to admit that it's not a bad suggestion - even if his first instinct is to write it off, say Jack already does what he can, which isn't much considering he's human and half the other doctors aren't.

But that won't help anything. Scott has better control than that.]

Maybe that'll be good. I don't think he'd like it all that much, if he knew...but maybe it'd be an okay start.

Filter

[fireincarnate]

[Jean smiles, a bit, as she nods.] Yeah. It's - I can understand why he'd think it's not fair. But the infirmary has been breached before, and...people can be touchy about it. It's not about him, not really.

Spam

[punched_hitler]

[Steve's still a little wary of the CES - just because he knows it's not real, and that's a little strange - but it's like being outside so it's still nice.

He's taking a run out of uniform, today, but he's got the shield anyway - just a little extra resistance, not enough to matter, but it's best to get yourself used to all kinds of scenarios, he's done plenty of running with it out of uniform, recently - when he hears something, off in the distance. A yell? It doesn't sound like a fight, or a call for help, but all the same, he's attracted to that direction, spotting Scott looking distinctly unhappy, if very focused on slinging balls into that goal.]

Hey.

Spam

[semifreakingnormal]

[Scott straightens from a throw when Steve calls, turning the lacrosse stick in his hands. All at once, he feels almost embarrassed - like he's been caught ought doing something dumb, or immature. He looks down at the stick in his hands, turning it over and over.]

Hey. What's up? [He forces a small smile.] Come to practice?

Spam

[punched_hitler]

[Hey, no need to feel embarrassed. Although he kind of wonders if there's something serious Scott could use some help with. He's not sure asking directly is the answer, though. Or even if talking is what Scott needs.

Sometimes just working off the frustration is pretty gratifying - he's learned that, the past few years. He's sort of done it a lot, himself.]

I could probably use it. [He smiles wryly, but he's not going to force the issue if Scott seems like he wants to be alone.] I wouldn't want to distract you, though.

[videocamera]

He's gone too? [Peter's one of the few people he was kind of starting to think of as friends.]

[semifreakingnormal]

Yeah. [Scott does not sound happy about it.] I figured everyone should know.

[The 'sorry' is lurking in his tone.]

[videocamera]

Yeah, thanks. I mean, for telling [me] everyone. It's... better to know, right?