][ 008

[team_sociopath]

You can pace the room if you’d like, but it’s barely a cage; long enough to lay out on the floor in either direction, but not much bigger. At first it seems empty; but after a time the shallow sound of breathing is perceptible, coming from one of the walls. There’s a bed there, little more than a cot, with a supine body on it. Was that there before? Didn’t you walk along the edges of this cell, running a hand over the smooth walls?

It’s still too dark to make out his features, but if you reach out to touch him you’ll find he’s dressed in plain scrubs, bandages here and there on his limbs, and an IV hanging from the wall beside him. He’s totally unconscious.

If you’re anything more or other than human, whatever abilities you have don’t work here. There’s no way out. The walls, the plated door, are too heavy for any shouts to pass to the world outside. There’s no one with a key. No one who cares you’re here, even if they know-- and somehow that thought, when it occurs to you, is worse than anything else. You’ve been left here, and no one’s coming to get you.

You’re stuck.

Now what?

[ooc; open to all, will treat different threads as different ‘instances’ of the dream~ i will prob. be getting to tags in the morning and will backdate forever but I wanted to start gettin' these up~]

Comments

[team_sociopath]

I don't have friends.

[That's as much bitterness as sarcasm. He looks down at the IV. It's not exactly a matter of trust, that he takes his eyes off Mouse; it's hopelessness. There's not much he can do here to defend himself, after all. He starts to pick off the bandage holding the needle in place.]

Doesn't matter I guess. Why're you here?

[habitformed.livejournal.com]

[ It's an obvious question, one that Mouse doesn't really have an answer to if he stops to think about it (which he doesn't). Not knowing why he's here, how he got here, what they were doing in this room with Tommy doped up can be a worrying thing and the last thing Mouse wants to do is freak out.

So instead, he takes a few steps closer, his nose crinkling in sympathetic discomfort as the bandages are peeled away from reluctant skin. ]

Do have friends. Duh. [ Mouse chews on his lip and then offers an uncertain: ] ...need help?

[team_sociopath]

Pretty sure I just have to pull it out.

[He glances up, not that there's much to see. Too powerless to be guarded, he's skeptical instead.]

Where you arrested, or what?

[habitformed.livejournal.com]

[ Arrested? The word gets Mouse to lift an eyebrow and take another look around at his surroundings. No, he'd never been arrested before but plenty of the guys in the Calling had. It was the sort of things they'd trade stories about over bowling and in between beers. Pissing contests for high school drop-outs, that's what comparing rap sheets was like. Still, in all his imagining, Mouse never thought it would be like this.

Shaking his head, he looks at the walls and then reaches out with a hand to touch one. ]

...Juvie? [ he asks. Couldn't be. ]

[team_sociopath]

Super juvie.

[He looks disgusted, not at Mouse but at where they are.]

Power suppressors in the walls. No one can hear you scream. At least, no one who cares.

[habitformed.livejournal.com]

[ Super juvie. Mouse mouths the word as if he's never heard the phrase before because he hasn't. The hand on the wall flattens itself so that his palm is now pressed flush against it. Was there anything on the other side? Anyone?

It was impossible to tell so Mouse balls his hand to a fist and then bangs, once, against the wall and then whistles sharply like someone who's looking to grab someone's attention. He looks back at Tommy. ]

No one?

[team_sociopath]

You might get a guard passing by, sooner or later. They're used to screaming.

[He's leaning against the wall again, his arms raised, wrists crossed behind his head. It's kind of a parody of a nonchalant pose. He's doing it in case the IV site bleeds, to collapse the needleprick.]

Who let you in?

[habitformed.livejournal.com]

[ Another good question. Again, no answer, no matter how hard Mouse searches his brain for one. Realizing this makes him obviously uncomfortable and he does that gawkish shuffling thing again with his feet before bringing a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

Wait, Mouse did have an answer. One that didn't make sense. ]

No one? [ He says a second time, only this time it's meant to be an answer. But, perhaps unintentionally, Mouse's voice lifts at the end, making it a question all over again. ] Just. Showed up.

[team_sociopath]

You do that a lot?

[Hey, people teleport, right? Maybe this guy just ended up in the wrongest wrong place there is. Abandon all hope.]