Boxes, Inside-Out

Jericho bounces on their heels, seemingly incorrigible as ever, though they don’t bounce quite as high, or as often, or as quickly, at the moment, at least. Maybe the riddle game took more out of them than they would admit. Maybe. 

They can feel the… not hostility, not really, not yet, but there is definitely tension, more so on Riley’s part than theirs, they might add! Sure, Riley could strike them dead at any time, but would she do it? … Maybe! Who knows, they don’t know her that well. But a van Halen shaped smudge on the ground would be pretty damning on her part, huh? So probably not! Probably.

The actor watches idly as the spaceship dies, or… whatever. Did she lose a life? Was that how it worked? If only it were so easy to keep going here, huh. Though… judging by some of the files they’d found, wasn’t that what Leroy, and Ellen, and whatever other scientists had done? Matti’s mother hadn’t worked out, so they took him. Apollo’s sister, Calico’s brother… extras. Like in a movie. They almost frown at the thought. Almost. 

“Well, it’s not a bad time to start! Our rooms are one of the few places here we’re safe, you know!” Pause. “Unless you have a roommate, I suppose. Who’s yours? Or was, perhaps. I don’t know!” They just sort of, stop, falling still. “Ah, tired as in ‘fed up’, I see! Hm. I’m, aha, really sorry. Really.”

They perk up slightly at the question, however. “Well! Well, well, well! I have to say, my searches were much more fruitful! Searches, I might add! … … I stole Ayumu’s riddle, aha. But! Miss Kerry and myself ran off and… well, I don’t remember the exact room or keys, exactly, but it doesn’t matter!! What we found was… shocking, really!” Their face actually shifts into a serious expression. “Records. Of experimentation. On our… ah… biological relatives. And adopted, in some cases! But… I don’t recall seeing your name, if that’s any comfort? Well, there was one that may have been yours, but… I don’t know! I don’t have them on me. We can go look if you’d like, but they were quite gruesome! … Quite.”

The reiteration is deliberate. “And what Miss Xue and I found in the other room was… well, even worse, somehow! Clawmarks into the metal, blood, everywhere! A rainbow of it, in fact. There was something written on the walls as well, something along the lines of ‘she said she was on our side but she just watched. she’s not one of us’. I wonder who ‘she’ is, but more importantly, I may have evidence…!” They whip out a photograph, exceedingly blurry, of something that has glowing eyes, fur, and fangs. “I found this by a preserved brain,” they inform her glibly. 

That had been her last life, anyway, so she gives up the prospect of returning to the game and gives her full attention to the actor. …So much movement. So many words. How do they manage it all the time?

“My roommate was Arielle Johnson,” she says, evenly. “Pink feathers. Pink hair. Sound familiar?”

She hadn’t wanted a roommate. She also hadn’t wanted that problem to be solved through death. But she did have the room to herself, now. Silver lining.

…Eugh. She feels kind of gross for thinking that. Maybe Matthias was rubbing off on her. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

So she listens to Jericho. Quietly. Without rolling her eyes or commenting on the unnecessarily dramatic nature of the retelling. She considers this to be a great achievement.

When they’re finally done - “I’d like to see these records. Which room where they in?” It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jericho.  It was that she wanted to see the original documents. And also that she didn’t trust Jericho.

When she repeats it back at him it sounds like a joke. The punchline was that a taking a medicine to presumably help your condition instead totalled it. What was that for, to make sure people could read it? Terribly childish if true but Leroy’s proven time and time again to a be a pedant and sick-humoured narcissist.

“Mm. I checked it out with Apollo… think he found some stuff in there too but I didn’t get much of a look at it. If ya wanna twist your mind round somethin’ I’ll take ya there sometime. But for now I’d say let your head rest. It’s a nasty room. Ain’t no good rooms here mind you but it just gives me a real cold feeling.”

Perhaps because it didn’t quite confirm anything real but it introduced the idea of many more awful things happening. Things he could only speculate about inviting dread back in over could bes and maybes. This heavy feeling is perhaps the downside to a bleeding heart.

“Yeah… I mean, we’ve been here for a while but when you think about it… we still don’t know much more than we did in the beginnin’, really. Now that you mention it… some real crazy high numbers pop up, huh? That’s… that ain’t right if it’s true.”

But it not being right didn’t change anything. You could wish for bad things to vanish all you wanted but wishing was akin to counting stars. Every time you’d finish a cloud would shift revealing more. Eventually you’d lose your place in the big sky.

“Good. I’m glad.”

He returns the smile.

“I guess just… everything. I ain’t much good at the whole bigger picture thing but lately I’ve been thinkin’ what if there’s some way to get Leroy– to end it? Feels like… feels like people are okay with the others dying, killing, and I can’t stomach that, y’know?

… Who knows, maybe I’ve just been trying to remember stuff ‘bout them in general. My memory’s real bad but when I think ‘bout those kids that got condemned n’ taken out with everyone just movin’ on…. I feel a burnin’ in my head. Like it ain’t right.”

“It’s not right,” she repeated, this time in agreement rather than as a joke.  Still, she thought about what he’d said. She’d never been very good at not thinking.  “We don’t know a lot, but we’ve learned some things. Why we’re here. What we are. Something called Archetype started all of this, but it was Nexus that took over and started the killing. Someone tried to bomb the building. Something killed the cleaning crews.”

It came out like she was reciting a list. Which she was. It was her way of keeping track of the details gleaned from the announcements, relevant or otherwise – but it felt more like trying to put together a puzzle with half of the necessary pieces missing and another quarter from the wrong puzzle entirely. Boxed in like they were, the only way to get more information was to wait. It was infuriating.

“…End it as in what?” Kill them all? It was what her mind automatically jumped to. Leroy had certainly implied that he had the capability and desire to do exactly that.

“People are selfish. Put themselves first. They need to feel safe before they can feel guilty.”  Maybe broad generalizations about human nature didn’t apply anymore. Either way, everyone was probably going to need therapy after this. If they lived through it at all. “It’s good to remember them, though. I think they would appreciate that.” 

That was what was weird about Matthias. He still bothered to care about other people when there were more important things to think about. Weird could be good, sometimes. 

Truth be told, Jericho had never been to an arcade! Nor were they particularly a video game playing person. They simply just didn’t have time to. If they wanted to keep up with the latest vidya, they’d simply ask Lazarus! Or at least they would, if they weren’t trapped in here. And if Lazarus weren’t more than likely dead. And if Lazarus had been into arcade games in the first place. Well, that train of thought had crashed down a particularly morbid track. Hm.

It’s with their likely-deceased twin sibling on their mind that they decide to head on over to the arcade. What would they find there? Who knows! That was the exciting part, or something. 

They weren’t really sure if they were expecting anyone to be in there or not, but surprise! There sure is. That beat playing video games in the flashing lights that somewhat reminded them of paparazzi cameras. Ah, a simpler time, when they weren’t apparently a horrendous monster. Though, they didn’t really feel like one? All that had happened was that they kept getting shorter, which, while extremely annoying, was tame compared to feathers and fur and lightning and breathing fire. Theoretically, they could still be an actor. Imagine, the world’s first famous cryptid actor! 

Maybe they were jumping the shark a bit. 

They don’t hone in on any one particular arcade cabinet as they walk in, because they’re too busy honing in on who is probably the sole person in the arcade: Riley Stanton. They have to admit! They’re wary of her. Nearly being electrocuted during a friendly game of dodgeball would do that to a person!

“Then take a nap!” they reply jauntily, though maybe, if you squint, their tone is just a bit gentler than normal. They just kinda shrug at her hostility. “Things do get boring around here, don’t they? I guess the riddle hunt was some change, but… Hm! It was certainly something. What did you think of it?”

The wariness was mutual. Riley didn’t know what Jericho could be capable of. Appearances could be deceiving, and she had no intention of trusting someone who led a successful career revolving around pretending to be someone they’re not.

But. Maybe the coldness was unwarranted. They weren’t supposed to be enemies. People deserved second chances. Or maybe she was still bitter about the actor’s apparent inability to take anything seriously. Hiding evidence was not funny, no matter what they said. That trial had been awful. Every trial had been awful. And the dodgeball game – she couldn’t even recall exactly what it was that they had said at the end that had made her so angry, but she remembered that they wouldn’t stop talking.

No longer piloted, the recently respawned Galaga ship exploded again in a burst of pixels. Her anger vanished along with it – what was the point? - and she was just. so. tired.

“I don’t take naps.” Old habit. Sleeping during the day had always messed up her sleep cycle. Or at least that had been the case the last time she’d taken a nap, which was around… eight or so years ago? “Wrong kind of tired, anyway.”

The blunt answer of ‘yes’ does throw him for a loop - he blinks, but, hm, that is true of Riley, isn’t it? She’s never been the type to keep her thoughts to herself nor soften her words. She was what she was. She said what she thought. That simple. He had grown to appreciate that even if not everyone here did.

“Gibberish, huh… geez… don’t that beat all.”

He scratches the back of his neck and then stews over his own answer. In a way, what he’d gotten was gibberish too. But he doubted it was the useless kind, just the sort that was rather hard for a guy like Matthias to parse.

“Not quite a waste of time on my end. Don’t reckon, anyway. There were some bottles, y’see, chemicals and that. Some of them were drained to the drip. Lotta the labels got torn off so I don’t really know what they’re all about but… there are symptoms. Side-effects too. One of those was ‘instant death’… I mean, pretty serious side effect, ain’t it?”

There’s something oddly amusing about that, it forces a chuckle, but he’s not quite sure how sincere it is. Afterwhich the look on his face becomes gradually more serious as he turns to her. When he thinks about it, some of the stuff there really was concerning.

“But that whole room was some kinda terrible… smelled like death. I get horrible stuff’s happenin’ all around us n’ all but I think these awful things been happenin’ for a while somehow, y’know? It’s a real bad thing - bad omen.”

Finally, his mind gets cast back to her question. ‘How are you’… he glances down at his hands. He hasn’t lost it in a while so that’s at least some progress. And talking to, getting along with Apollo for the first time in years despite all the history was still amazing, still helping so much. In a weird way, despite everything, he was doing… alright.

But the news of a room that had actually contained something interesting held her attention. If nothing else, it would be something she could take a look at later, but the chemicals that Matthias was describing seemed… strange.

“Death as a side effect,” she repeated, flatly. No one ever paid attention to the side effects. Side effects were usually only inconveniences in comparison to a medicine’s intended purpose - effects that could be severe in rare cases, but instant death? That was ridiculous. And if it was only a side effect, it couldn’t have been developed as a poison... More to think about. Later.

“I wouldn’t doubt that bad things have happened here in the past.” She didn’t believe in omens, but… “The scale of the facility is too large to have been reasonably built for a single group. Too elaborate. And… the subject numbers are too high.” From what she recalled of Leroy’s announcements, some of them numbered in the hundreds. Scientists had a wonderful, terrifying habit of numbering things in order.

It was scary to think that they weren’t the first. Made everything too big. Out of control. 

But she was here with Matthias right now, and they were both alive, and those were both good things. Small, good things. It was enough.

The chemicals are stuck in his brain, nagging at him. He’d been dumped with a whole lot of information and honestly he wasn’t sure how much he could make of it on his own. Memorization had never been his strong suit and big ole complicated words entered his head and then left it in no time at all. Instant death? Replaceable limbs? Some of this sounded downright medieval and real graphic. Sure, he was punched in the head more times than he could count but reading it and dealing with it were two different things. Especially since he didn’t feel it anyway.

He’d opted to hang out in one of the environmental rooms as it seemed as good a place as any to think things through. There’s a part of him that wants to talk it over with someone, maybe it’ll help make sense of things. But his feelings, while not quite the blazing anger they were, have barely cooled. The lava of his emotions may have solidified but that bitter taste in his mouth prevented him from forgiving some of them anytime soon.

Some of them.

Despite what he’d expected, he wasn’t alone here. Friends was a frightening word but… maybe he considered using it for real.

Rather than fishing for deep thoughts, Matthias was content to sit on the rocks, glancing vaguely up at that bird’s nest. For what purposes were these rooms made? Maybe it was to give them a taste of whatever their home was. As he recalled there were only ten of them, though… maybe they shared. Ahh, whatever. Screw it all! He could focus on other stuff but right now his mind was fizzling with too much data. With a rough hand, he ruffles the side of his hair before noticing the door open. He gazes upon the intruder with a dose of suspicion.

Truthfully he hadn’t expected the company. He wasn’t opposed in principle, but… well, one had to be careful, for a variety of reasons.

…Yes, she had been looking for Matthias.

She didn’t even bother to suppress the sigh of relief when she shoved the door open and saw him sitting there, because she liked talking to him, which was more than she could say about… almost everyone she’d ever known. She felt more comfortable around him than she did in a room by herself. He took things seriously and thought of others before himself and after their conversation at the pool she was certain he wouldn’t kill her – which was a strange qualification, but it still counted, and christ if she’d known in advance that having a friend would make her thoughts this sappy she might’ve tried a little harder not to trust him.

She took a seat on the rock next to him and looked up at the nest, halfheartedly wondering if she’d ever be able to fly. The riddles were more relevant, but she didn’t have much to share in that regard.

“Yes,” she said, absently. “My key led to an operating room. The note was illegible gibberish. Useless. Waste of time. And you?”

It would be nice to fly, she decided. It wouldn’t make up for anything that had happened, but it would be nice. But she could die tomorrow and never get the chance. There was no point in dreaming about such an uncertain future. With a sigh, she shook her head and shifted on the rock to face Matthias properly.

“Probably… no, I mean, you’re right, ‘course. I just… I dunno what to do in this place. Feels like I can’t breathe sometimes, y’see. I know it’s not the answer but… guess I’m still tryin’ to find out what is. Though I’m guessin’ give or take a few days those bright eggs will go n’ find some new stupid game for us to play. Hide n’ seek or tag or somethin’.”

Which was becoming more and more of a headache for him personally. Oh hey, are all your friends dying? Why not simmer down with a game of beach volleyball and pretend like your life isn’t a complete misery? As if he could do that… as if anyone could. Well, no, maybe that wasn’t fair. Given how Mayumi and Jericho had reacted they could probably play until their own hearts stopped.

He takes this moment to stop advertising his bad decision making and throws his shirt back on as he thinks over Riley’s words. He’ll talk, she’ll hear out… it’s good… of course. And it’s a relief but… something about that doesn’t seem quite right.

“You remember the dodgeball too.”

It seems like a question but it’s just a statement. A fact. To the point.

“So you remember me sayin’ I’d hear you out too. If you came to speak to me, it ain’t unimportant, y’know? ‘Sides, you’ve been good to me. I’d like to be a little good back. Tell you what. I’ll talk… I’ll… come clean to you ‘bout why I’ve been…” He waves a dismissive hand, unable to find a suitable word. “But after that; you tell me what you were gonna say, alright?”

Matthias holds his stare for a bit and then nods, as if doing so is a way of getting her to agree. Rather than wasting time with a reply, he goes on to his story and as he does so, his voice becomes a bit more distant.

“… It bugged me from the start, y’know? The way people ‘round here acted… like they can point the finger n’ condemn a guy without no care. I know a thing or two ‘bout that see. ‘Cause I’m a murderer myself.”

A pause.

“Least… that’s what people who knew me would tell ya. A whole bunch of evidence pointed my way… never got convicted or nothin’, never enough for that but it was enough to destroy me. I got motive, I got the time and place so why not? Ha… people picked apart every lil thing in my life. Every mistake. Every time I’d raise my voice or a fist. I was livin’ in a world where the kindly grandma who ran the corner shop looked at me like I was… well, what I am, I guess. A monster. I didn’t murder nobody… ‘course not. But that didn’t matter. And if… when I catch the guy who did… the real sad part is it still won’t. It’s too late. Once people think you can do somethin’ like that, they never look at you the same way. My own old man can’t look me in the eye. When your flesh and blood thinks you’re guilty, thinks you’re capable of that kinda thing… well, what do you have left? …Even though you’re the one that’s been wronged. So, I end up thinkin’ ‘bout that, ‘bout the people I called friends n’ brothers and then I think about this place and… it’s scary how it all happens in front of me. It’s so easy to stick the nails in somebody’s coffin and call it a day, like you ain’t done a thing wrong. So even if I get thought of as a brute or an idiot or whatever… I’ll fight it. I ain’t gonna stop fightin’ for somethin’ better. This place ain’t fair by all means but if I give up and let people die, hell, feel good people are dyin’ then who’s gonna fight for the condemned? ‘Face your actions’, ‘I won’t miss you’… how can people say that kinda thing? … I don’t… encourage people to go ‘round bashin’ people upside the skull and yeah, it’s real fucked up, but… I can’t get behind the witch hunt. Not one bit. I’m real sorry if that makes me stupid or what have you. But… I won’t ever go sayin’ someone’s guilty unless I damn well know they are. With all my heart. I’ll never abandon someone like that. Cause I know what that does to a man. I guess you kinda do now, too. Well, you’ve heard it from me, anyways.”

Speaking for so long isn’t like him… or perhaps, speaking for long on this subject isn’t like him. He flexes his finger out and curls them in a kind of calm rhythmic fashion as he shuts his eyes. Memory as tattered as it is certain things stick there. The good things rarely do. After a brief pause his eyes flick back open and find Riley.

“That’s why I go off like that, I guess. Just want things to be better. N’ make more sense. So…”

God, how do you even speak after a long story like that? He scratches the back of his neck and gets back on track.

Usually.

“It’s stifling. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. They don’t want us to be happy, here. Happy people don’t kill. The games… ” Think of it like a science experiment. “Socialization. Interaction. Make friends, make enemies.” The dodgeball game. Apollo nailing Jericho with one ball, her own electric vaporization of another. “Competition brings out the worst in everyone.”

As Matthias speaks, she remains completely silent. Listening, as she said she would. Watching. Thinking. What he says… makes sense. Makes him make sense, in a way. Once he’s finished, she’s still quiet for a few seconds. Can’t come up with the right words, so she doesn’t say anything at all. …Seconds later, still nothing. The silence was stretching on for too long.

“...It sounds like you’ve been alone for a while.” Maybe not literally, but with people seeing him as something he isn’t, having his identity marred like that... “People are stupid. You’re not unjustified, but the others here haven’t been through what you have. The witch hunt seems like the only option, and it’s easier to hate than…” She sighs and shakes her head. “Emotions aren’t my strong suit. But you’re right. Good people are dying, and it isn’t fair. None of them would have killed if we weren’t trapped here. No one would’ve died.”

It’s not the best way she could have responded, but she wasn’t good at this type of thing. She always tried to give answers, find solutions, be right. It didn’t work for everything.

Still. “Hurting yourself doesn’t bring justice to the dead. Doesn’t help the living. Can you even say that it helps you? At all?”

And… of course. Her end of the deal. He talks, she talks. It seemed even less important in light of what Matthias had just shared with her, but it wouldn’t be fair to shut down now.

“…Fine. I’ll tell you what’s been on my mind.” A lot of things have been on her mind. “I am a very independent person, Matthias, you know that. But in a place like this, I haven’t been able to deal with things the way I always have. I drive myself insane. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one is safe.” She shakes her head. “It’s… different now. It’s stupid, and dangerous, and I would really rather not, but I trust you.”

She sighs, sharply. There. Matthias is the one person in the whole, God-forsaken facility that she’d have no reservations about turning her back to. Just one person. It’s enough. There’s really no point in telling him that. But he’d asked.

“…I didn’t realize until the last time we talked – I asked whether you trusted me, and you said no. That’s fine. It really is. It’s the smart thing to do.” Another, drawn out sigh, mostly directed at herself. “It bothered me. It’s been bothering me. And I don’t usually get this way about things – about people – so it’s been just… stupid.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. Deep breath. In, out. The air reeks of chlorine, and the mild annoyance makes it easier to let go and start talking again, staring out over the pool’s surface.

His eyes flick to Riley as she enters and before he even realises it, he heaves a sigh of relief. She’s the one that jumps to his head when he worries. Burning bridges is nothing new but he’d rather not have her see him as brutish as he’s been acting. As bad. She’s… blunt. That might bug some people but it’s always been fine with him. But what’s more, she cares. Maybe not about people but about this situation - about what’s right and what they can do. Maybe it’s just that this girl inspires him to try a bit harder.

“Not much you’d approve of, I reckon. Part of it was testin’ these effects n’ whatever out… the other part’s… well… better to keep the violence to myself than risk hurtin’ anyone else, y’see.”

And yet he was so willing to hurt Xue. Again. He was actually so ready to act on it that it scared him. He shouldn’t be this way. He wasn’t before. Sure, he was short-tempered but it’d never been this bad, the desire to act out so strong. Perhaps part of it was also this feeling of being cramped. The lack of fresh air and grass… it was probably messing with his head. Those crappy little rooms obviously weren’t a good enough substitute. It all felt… mechanical. And cold. All of it did.

He turns to her with a serious look and after a handful of seconds, he slowly nods.

She couldn’t quite place what it was that made Matthias less exhausting to talk to than the others. He can be loud and violent and emotional, but he’s also… hm. Something. Honest, genuine. Human, maybe. It’s enough.

“You need to find a different outlet, Matthias. Hurting yourself doesn’t help anyone.” She almost continuously projects an aura of mild disapproval on a good day, so directing it in his general direction isn’t an issue. Claiming a spot on the wall beside him to lean against, she looks up at him. “So talk. I’ll listen.”

The fact that he hadn’t actually gone over and given Xue the punch in the face that she was practically asking for during the trial was evidence enough that he was still trying. The least she could do is show some sort of support. Barring a magical wand that could solve all of his problems, an offer to listen was all she could really offer at this point.

It’s true that she’d wanted to talk about something else, but it really didn’t seem all that important anymore. Almost silly, really.

He’s always known but that last trial really did confirm it. The sheer double standards. They’re evil and don’t deserve sympathy… until I say I do. Men were not supposed to play god, to judge who does and doesn’t deserve sympathy or a second chance. Sousuke’s words in particular repeat in his head.

“Life says, ‘Face the facts and your actions'”.

When it’s Sousuke’s time to mess it all up, will he remember those words? Will the others? Will they turn their backs on him like they did the others? She’d… begged them not to go through the usual ‘filthy murderer’ speech. Caadia had made a terrible mistake that’d clearly destroyed her. Takara’s pursuit for vengeance had, when you think about, saved them all. And yet they are to be hated and forgotten in that order just like the rest of them. Maybe he’s the one who’s messed up… maybe that’s the logical conclusion. He’d almost attacked Xue again, after all.

Matthias sighs, overwhelmed with frustration. The anger’s passed but part of him is still angry at even being so angry. He can’t keep losing it like this. It was strange, sure, he’d had issues before but he’d never felt this uninhibited before. It’s… frightening. But he can’t expect understanding or sympathy from the others. He’s burned too many bridges at this point and to the few he still cares somewhat about… well… he doesn’t want to appear any more pathetic than he already does. What a conundrum.

After the trial he’d decided to keep to himself. Part of him just figured he knew what’d happen if he bumped into people. The judgement, the scolding, the scorn in general… it was tiring to even consider. But maybe being here in his room was worse. It was still all there. Like Marta had never left. It wasn’t just Marta that was gone now. Caadia and Takara, Loic and Toubei. All gone. Takara had been a friend. And just like that, now she was gone. Staring at the other side of the room didn’t just bring back memories of Marta, it brought back memories of all of them. And their executions. And how, in his mind, he just couldn’t see them deserving that. He felt sick. This room… no good. He couldn’t stay here. Anywhere but here. Hell, he’d risk running into someone if it meant he could get out of here.

He’d been wandering in a bit of a stupor when he arrived at the swimming pool area. This seemed… ultimately too merry a place given everything. Though this smell was… unfamiliar and factory-esque. Ultimately cold to him. Matthias had no intention of taking a swim, he just wanted to take in the scenery. This place was weird but it had a calming affect on his mind. Maybe this is also a good time to examine the damage he’s caused.

Leaning on a wall near the corner, he removes his scarf and shirt and glances down at some of the fresh wounds. Some of them he doesn’t even remember getting but he’s been a mess lately. He’s always gotten bruises and scrapes without realising it but these days he’s been angrier and in an effort to not take it out elsewhere he takes it out alone on the furniture and on himself. It’s probably not a big surprise but seeing the damage up close really makes it real. God… he should really sort this out. Well, that’s what part of him thinks. The other part thinks why even bother>

He heaves a huge sigh and then notices he has company though he hasn’t really turned to see who it is. He’s more focused on his hands right now. Perhaps he should be embarrassed but well, not really, he’s a fighter this is hardly anything. Though maybe all the scars on him are a bit horrifying to people who aren’t used to them.

“Oh… hey.”

But the trial was over now, and all of them were dead. Back into the calm between storms. This wasn’t over yet. More people would die before it would end. They weren’t in control of this, she couldn’t control any of it, and it was… it was what it was. She couldn’t change the past. There was nothing that could be done, and she needed to suck it up and deal with it. On the current path, people would keep dying. That was the pattern. Patterns were nice, even if their implications weren’t. 

But patterns were everywhere, if she looked too hard. Kids with feathers kept getting killed. It didn’t mean anything, other than that she was thinking too much.  That last trial had just doubled the death toll, and the lack of decent sleep was already giving her a headache. She knew how to deal with heavy workloads. She knew how to deal with stress. But her strategies for both of those involved eliminating the source, and the inability to do anything was starting to eat away at her. Grabbing a drink from the snack room hardly helped, but it was something.

Maybe this would keep going until there was no one left, until the scientists watching them got bored and eliminated them all. Maybe not. But if there was any chance of living through this, there were certain people she did not want to see die, if it could be avoided.

She was looking for Matthias. The new area is nothing special – just locked, loud, and wet. The only reason at all she walks through the entrance to the pool at all is because she finally spots him across the room. Shirtless, apparently, but people rarely jumped into pools fully clothed, so she doesn’t think much of it until she gets closer. She slows as she nears him, and stops a few feet away.

“Some of those are new. What have you been doing.”

It comes out flatter than she intended, but those clearly weren’t the work of a vengeful tree. She crosses her arms, uncrosses them, and starts pulling at one of her pigtails with a sigh.

They clamber down from the top bunk, cursing the fact that they’d offered to take it in the first place. Well, certainly they wouldn’t have if they’d known this buffoonery was going to happen! Considering how few choices of clothing they have left, they opt to stay in Miss Xue’s pajamas, as… damp as they were. There’s some sort of commotion in the hallway, but they pay it no mind; plenty of people are heading toward it, and too many cooks spoil the broth. Or too many monsters… something something. Instead, remembering the previous trials, they hop over to the cinema first, quickly gleaning the location of the body (giving the area a onceover before leaving) and… well, not running over there, not by any means, but powerwalking, maybe, looking at things on that path as they went. 

“I’ve got him,” he muttered as his hand connected to waterlogged fabric. Bracing himself against the doorway he reached and got a better grip, and then pulled him forward, right up to the threshold. Possibly with Riley’s help, he pulled the corpse of his roommate out of the drink and laid it out on the hallway floor.

“He’s bleeding from the mouth,” Apollo said, taking stock of what he saw. He was tired, and narrating this to himself was the only thing keeping him in focus right now. “Poison?” He nodded. That was likely. He then checked the body for any other signs of damage.

“If it was poison,” he said, turning now to Riley, “I can’t imagine Levesque died here. The real crime scene is somewhere else; the murderer dumped his body in the water.” He glanced down at the dead prosecutor. “I have no idea why, though.”

“Don’t touch anything,” she said by way of greeting, then turned back to the task at hand. She helped to drag the body out of the water, though her efforts weren’t really much help. Noodle arms and all that. Apollo was right - with a lack of any obvious external injuries, poison did seem like the most likely cause of death.

“Yes, underwater is not the most ideal place to murder someone. But, if it’s poison…” she frowned, looking down into the water for anything that might have sunk to the bottom. “…Hm. I wonder where it could have come from. Do you think-”

Whatever she was about to ask was interrupted by the new announcement, and she quickly stood up.  Was Leroy seriously making bird puns at a time like this? Oh, who was she kidding. She didn’t have nearly enough respect for the man to expect any better.

“Two – another one?” Only the name was given, not how, not when - but the files should be up by now. She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “I… I’m going to go check the theater. I’ll be right back.”

She quickly went over to the theater to look around and check the information provided, then returned to the environmental rooms.

The first thing Apollo noticed, as he was so strangely pulled from sleep in the dead of night, with the laboratory quiet and dimmed, was that he was alone. He could tell that much, in the dark room and through his sleep-hazed mind. Lonesomeness had a certain feel to it.

A moment later he heard screams. It must have woken him up. And then it clicked - screaming, an empty room - was Loïc dead? Dying? No time to think about that. His brain jumped like it had gotten a hit from jumper cables. He pulled his coat on over his pajamas against the chill of the empty room and grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk, then headed out into the hall, perhaps his better judgement. 

Not that he needed to be worried about this one. Matthias, from nowhere, went past him, toward the person on the floor. Takara. Only one voice like that in the laboratory. In the world. Get help? He could do that. Did that. Help was on its way. And as he went, he heard the PA system crackle to life in the middle of the goddamn night and the idiot scientist was in his ears, informing Apollo that his roommate was dead. The roommate that, just a short while earlier, he had told Takara he would hurt if Loïc got in his way. He groaned softly, ran a hand through his dry curls of hair. Ungloved hands, skin thick with spiderweb scar tissue. Hands that always shook slightly, but, right now, shook a lot.

He glanced back down the hallway toward where Takara lay. Her screaming had stopped. He held his breath, but the idiot scientist didn’t speak again. She wasn’t dead. Apollo hesitated there. He should go back, he should… … … no, nobody wanted Apollo Brandt around, especially not with a bleeding head. He didn’t have any illusions about that. He’d do more harm than good. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and stalked off to the crime scene, concentrating on the little flickers of light around the laboratory, feeling souls drift toward Takara and toward Loïc. Moths to flames, one still flickering, and one little more than rising wisps of smoke.

He was the first to arrive, but he felt other souls approach before he saw them. With his coat pulled around him, the legs below clad in black cotton pants, and his burned feet bare and cold against the floor, he stared down at the corpse floating in the water, a corpse that had been his roommate a short while ago.

Another murder meant another investigation, another trial. Might as well take the time to put on her regular clothes. The incident in the hallway seemed to have already been well under control by the time she emerged from her room, and she only stopped and watched long enough to confirm that Takara was unlikely to become a second corpse in the near future before passing the group by. She was in good hands. Adding herself to the mix would only complicate things.

Leroy’s announcement had not been so helpful as to include the location of the corpse, but there were others who seemed to have some idea of where to go. She followed to find that Loic Levesque, as Leroy had said, was dead in the water. …It was hard to get worked up about another death right now. Not when it was the fifth. It was a tragedy, yes. But not a shock.

Matthias finds himself nodding at her words. There’s a certain mild pleasure to agreeing with Riley. In a way, it sort of reinforces his own opinion. While his trust issues do block out some good advice he’s also reasonable enough to realise he’s not the smartest. And a smart person having a similar opinion is usually a relief.

“Well that’s a relief. Agreein’ with you’s usually a good thing, y’know? You got your head on right.”

He jabs at his head as if to indicate, well. Literally the head. No less extreme she said… that part in particular he agrees with. Regardless of the truth of the matter… the situation’s worsened. He knows a thing or two about false accusations and all it really takes is enough panic. Proof, the truth, those things are good, they can allay one’s fears but they aren’t necessary for most people. As long as the panic’s in the air, it’s already started, this new wave of danger and fear.

It was frustrating not being too bright. Lord knows he tried, he tried to make up for it, find answers the best he could but everything always seemed so fuzzy in the end. The big question for him was why. If it was the truth, why turn cryptids into humans? If it wasn’t, why reverse it, turn them into cryptids? And why the slow painful process? With the motivations and the executions, the threats and the pain? If Leroy wanted them dead, if Ellen did, this entire place was proof they could do that. Hell, the executions alone were. But instead it was slow and played out… like torture. Perhaps they had something so evil they deserved this kind of death. Or perhaps there was infighting in the lab, about their fates? Without much evidence either way he couldn’t say. Just speculate. And he’d never been great at coming up with the correct answer. Still, he could try. Rather, that’s probably all he could do.

“Eh? Me? Nah, you know me, thick skin, ain’t much hurtin’ me, y’know?”

He waves his hands as if to indicate that. They looked a bit better now but the black scarring from younger years would always make them a bit hard to look at.

“But don’t think it’s supposed to anyways… it’s more just, uh, flash n’ stuff I guess. It was… faster than I ever moved, though. Seems more like a good thing than a bad, no one’s more surprised than I am there, trust me. I dunno, just seems like we’re becoming… more n’ more like weapons. Nasty business. But I’m glad you’re okay. You try n’ keep on being okay. We gotta be happy with the little things these days. If someone drops I’d just hate for it to be you, I guess. Shitty thing to say though, huh?”

“It’s just what I think. Don’t believe everything you hear.” She tilts her head slightly as she considers him intently. “…Do you trust me, Matthias?”

Words were simple. A tool, just as dangerous as any other. Lying was easy, even more so when one was not speaking face to face. The best lies were usually simple, and this was anything but that. The lack of proof could be the lack of it or simply Leroy’s belief that there was no point in providing it to people he thought of as no more than monsters. Too many factors, no way to tick them neatly off of a list. Better to think herself a fool later for believing a false threat than walk forward unprepared, with the cavalier belief that she alone knows what is true.

His gesture to his head triggered a phantom itch on her own, so she crosses her arms in an attempt to ignore it with as much force as possible.

“Mm.” A sound of acknowledgement, neither approving nor disapproving. “Still, try to be careful about what you punch. Lack of pain doesn’t mean it’s not bad for you.”

She was still thinking about the tree-punching incident, but to apply the same thought to more recent developments would mean that… if anything, it was in support of Leroy. Regular people shouldn’t be able to play with fire and lightning without lasting damage, let alone without pain.

“Weapons? People have guns. Explosives. Something could be said about having intelligence directly behind the power, but to go to this extent…” She trails off. “So much trouble. Why bother with the farce of humanity in the first place? And they’re not telling us to fight anyone but each other. It doesn’t fit.”

She could imagine some of the more flashy abilities being weaponized, yes, but not all of them.  She almost wished it were the case – a simple explanation would be welcome, at this point. But Leroy had said that they wanted them to die. Too many bodies had fallen already, and there would only be more.

But... as he said, she could probably bring herself to be thankful for the little things. Like not being dead, and having someone besides her that would like to see that continue to be the case. 

He’s kind of used to her sharp tone of voice so although he blinks at it he mentally shrugs it off and accepts that, well, they’re all probably stressed. She’s already seen him at quite a low point anyway.

“What do I believe you say… huh…”

He takes a moment to ponder it over, his knuckles resting against his temple as if grinding out a good theory before shrugging it off.

“… It’s probably true, y’know? They’re scientists n’ all and they ain’t been lyin’ ‘bout much so far. Plus, they do appear to want us dead. But I ain’t the best guy to ask. My old man didn’t really give me much hope to hold out onto so maybe I’m just clinging to this explanation makin’ sense, y’know? If the gloves fits, right?”

Matthias squints and leans back a bit, as if he’s trying to search for the right words. He’s never been good at finding a specific word he’s thinking of. That’s a pain.

“Don’t blame others for not thinkin’ so, though. They got all these good bonds n’ memories. If it is true though… is that such a bad thing? I mean, doesn’t take away the good stuff, y’know? … But I ain’t an expert there. I mean, I dunno. I was never the sort of guy who was good at acceptin’ something without proof in the first place, y’know?”

Because it’s easy to get distracted. Led astray by biased feelings and scraps of evidence for the angry judging masses. They want an answer - they want a villain. That’s always been the case. That’s why it’s always been important to recheck these things. Make sure the things that you think about someone align with the facts about them. His mouth twists into a little frown as he wonders what to do with his concern.

In the relative calm and quiet of the simulation room, she patiently listens to what he has to say. If the glove fits… Matthias could see it being true, as could she – but there would likely be others with stronger family ties that would not take the news at face value.

She was quiet for a long while, and when she did speak, her words were careful and slow. “…I don’t want to take his word for truth, but we’ve had minimal contact with the scientists themselves. A reversion would be easier to force from afar than an abrupt change.” She shook her head. “This is a mess, regardless of the truth.”

She cast a glare at the ceiling – without knowing where the room from which the announcements were being broadcast, looking at the source of the noise was the next best thing. Now that she wasn’t throwing lightning at the wall, she seemed calm. Irritated, but calm.

“We share a similar perspective. This wouldn’t change the past, and it doesn’t change the present. Proof would be nice to have, but it would make our situation no less extreme.”

The ‘situation’ of being trapped in the facility fluctuated wildly in terms of danger and desperation. Sometimes there were simple games and conversation, but it was difficult to forget that there were four fewer people alive than had been here on the first day. After Leroy’s declaration that they wanted them all to die, it was unlikely that he would be content to let the number stay steady. There seemed to have been a general consensus that none of the rooms made available to them had access to any sort of exit, but with all of these powers and abilities cropping up, she couldn’t help but wonder-

He had changed out of those soggy gym clothes but hadn’t put his coat or scarf back on. Without those, it was easy to see the way the grey sweater hung off of his skeletal frame. Even easier to see were the burn scars crawling up the right side of his neck, usually hidden under the folds of the scarf. But he found that he was caring less and less about that. He had scientists turning him into a monster, who cared about scars.

He watched Riley practise for a few minutes before she said something. He would have spoken up, but he doubted she’d be able to hear. He also didn’t fancy electrocution. He had enough problems already.

“No need to stop on my account,” he said dryly, his expression its usual vague frown, “The noise adds a certain dynamic je ne sais quoi to the atmosphere around here.” It was the static, actually, he could feel his hair prickling at the follicles.

Flashing lights in a dark room didn’t do wonders for her eyesight, either, so it took a few seconds to adjust enough to identify who had spoken. Apollo Brandt. Kind of an ass, from what she’d seen, but he’d tried to keep things on track during the last mess of a trial and managed to knock the infuriating actor on their ass during the dodgeball game. Overall, he was competent. She could respect that.

When she was younger, she had figured that if her parents had decided to one day surprise her with the news that she was adopted, she would be able to take it in stride. The situation was significantly different than the one she had imagined, what with the news coming from a bitter, moronic scientist as she was in the midst of a transformation into some sort of electricity-wielding bird, but her thought process remained the same. Whether or not Leroy spoke the truth, it would not make a difference in how her past had played out.

“Your family is exactly what it is and always has been, regardless of whether or not you were adopted.” She took a hairband from where she had been keeping it on her wrist and pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she spoke. “So you are correct. Your family is yours.”

There had been no whining, no shuffling of papers or half-assed script readings in that last announcement. Only the harsh, biting rant of an imbecile that wanted to show that he had the power to make them suffer. Like it or not, there was no way confirm or deny any of what he said until new information was obtained, and answers were in short supply.

Matthias trudges after Riley and, in a way, it’s a bit of a strange image to have the tall muscular Matthias follow behind a smaller bespectacled girl who, all the same, had a powerful business-like stride to her compared to his lazy vacant pace. He only barely tilts his head up at the sound of a new voice.

Or… well… a different voice. Ellen sounds more flustered than usual. His head droops with some form of vague interest but his eyes immediately shoot to Riley, who seems to be reacting. As she reacts he feels a pain of his own. Not something that’ll bring him to his news and honestly, he grits his teeth more out of surprise of feeling anything than the pain itself but it’s still quite something. He’s never been good with people but he’s smart enough to hop from one logical leap to another and he figures Riley’s not the type to like people being flustered over her. Well. He figures that but he can’t help being concerned regardless. He’s never been a thinker anyway.

“I should be askin’ you that. You alright?”

Matthias’s voice seems a bit strained, tense even, but he somehow seems like vacant than before… whether that’s an improvement or not is perhaps, yet to be seen. A black mist follows his every action and he glances at it in a sort of irked confusion, one eye glowing a bright red.

“I don’t feel much of nothin’ so I’m fine, y’see. Nothing that’ll kill me, y’know? … Seems like we got some dissent or whatever up in command though, huh. Weren’t supposed to be doin’ the transformer thing, I’d wager…”

He shakes his head and re-focuses, back to Riley. It was, perhaps, strange he’d be concerned over Riley’s potential damage despite his own bleeding hands despite the changes in Riley not seeming too painful directly in nature. But that’s just how he was; it couldn’t be helped with his lifestyle.

“I’m fine now.” The response to Matthias’ question was terse, but there was no animosity in her tone. Just… confusion. Confusion that only intensified as she took a second to look at him more closely.  “…Are you doing that on purpose?” 

Glowing eyes were one thing, but spontaneously producing black fog was… different. At least he wasn’t on fire. She wouldn’t have put it past the idiot on the intercom to set the entire building ablaze and call it a scientific experiment.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “If this is Leroy’s doing again, I will find and eviscerate that man.” From what she remembered of the announcement, Ellen had told them not to kill each other, which was a nice change of pace, but she still felt that it would be no great loss to humanity as a whole if Leroy happened to suffer an early death at the hands of an irate, feathered teenager.

She looks herself over, just to make sure she hadn’t missed some sort of drastic change, like growing a tail or shooting lasers out of her eyes, but saw nothing new.

“The pain is gone, but I feel… strange.” She covered her mouth with a hand. “And a bit nauseous, actually.”

Her stomach was churning. It was like a pit had opened up, and although she knew she had eaten less than a few hours ago, she suddenly felt like she hadn’t had a proper meal in days – like craving a salad after a junk food binge, except the thought of a salad was rejected as easily as everything else. Not salad, not fish, not - her eyes flicked down to his hands, and she forced her attention back up to his face before she could actually think about it, focusing instead on the glowing eye, the mist, anywhere but the bloody mess his knuckles had become. She shook her head. This was not something she wanted to deal with right now.

“Let’s fix your hands. Mist or not, you’re still a mess.”