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Vas Captio Mods ([info]vas_captio_mod) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-22 09:08:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!dropped, amaterasu, day 12, experiment, george lass, jack harkness, jack sparrow, location: detention cell, logan, remy lebeau, river tam, rorschach, sam winchester, the doctor (ten)

Day 12: Experiment
Who: Jack Harkness, The Doctor, Gambit, Logan, Rorschach, Sam Winchester, River, Ametarasu, George & Jack Sparrow
What: Day 12 Experiment, no posting order enforced - thread as the characters might interact naturally
When: 2pm
Where: Unknown
Rating: TBD
Status: DROPPED.

From wherever they were, at the exact moment of 2:00pm on Day 12, each of the 9 would find their sight slowly fading into a brilliant white. There would be no sensations beginning in their extremities and working inward in a fast tingling until it reached their core and suddenly they would be completely unconscious. A short time later, all would awaken in a large, open room about the size of a fast food restaurant. The walls are stone, as are the floors. Everything is lit by eery, blue glowing rods placed into carved grooves in the stone at intervals. There are no apparent doors and the ceiling is low. Natural columns support the low ceiling giving the impression that this room is underground.

Enjoy your stay. You might be here a while. At least that's what it would seem from the large letters on the west wall proclaiming, "No One Mourns the Wicked."


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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-22 09:09 am UTC (link)
Because it wasn't enough to be exhausted and depressed, now she had to be fainting too. It had seemed like one of those things caused by low sugar, low blood-pressure, low something. Seeing white and then going unconscious.

Except usually you woke up in the same place - or the hospital. But not George. George, of course, woke up somewhere that wasn't the gym, feeling the cold of the stone against her lower back - she was only wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and the t-shirt had been riding up, apparently. Sitting up, George felt extremely woozy. Pretty soon she realized this was a very eerie place and obviously she had not come here on her own accord. This was yet another one of the 'experiments' that fucking little bitch insisted on plaguing them all with. As if being stuck in a glass cage where earthquakes happened wasn't enough.

Nobody else was awake yet, but she could see some familiar faces. A whole lot of them, actually. Logan, Sam, River, The Doctor and Gambit. The other three, she didn't think she'd had the pleasure so far. George still didn't make a sound. She wasn't one to start screaming loudly in panic; if anything she would curse to high heavens like a sailor's daughter. But not just yet. Right now, her eyes were glued to the writing on the wall; open mouth and deep frown. Pretty damn well done, wanting to tick them off with something like that just after they'd witnessed people dying. At least she and Logan had. Or maybe they were the wicked ones that wouldn't be mourned. That made her feel so much better. With a roll of the eyes, George realized even sarcasm didn't translate too well anymore. She must be tired.

"Um...Guys?" She might as well try.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 10:13 am UTC (link)
"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" What is it? Came the drawling tone of the Cajun, who cracked one red and black eye open, then turned his head slowly to look at George, who wasn't laying far from him. "People are tryin' t'sleep, Petite." He announced simply. The Cajun had been awake for a few moments now. He'd seen the writing on the wall and it had made his stomach drop. He had interpreted it the same way that she had. They were the wicked ones. Well, at least he knew some of them were. He certainly was. And the Doctor, who had claimed to have done things he wasn't proud of. Hell, George was Death-- she was surely wicked, right? And Logan -- well, don't get Remy started on Logan. Jack? Yeaaaah. Jack was wicked, alright. So he had come to the simple conclusion that yes. Yes. They were the wicked ones.

And he was okay with that.

Okay enough, apparently, that he didn't want to get up from his comfortable spot laying on the cold ground on his back. His trench coat had a large burned hole in the back, and his tank top beneath was slightly singed and stained with blood (which was seeping onto the floor right now, but it wasn't much, just a small puncture). But none of that was visible while he was settled comfortably onto his back. The chill of the floor felt nice against his skin.

He didn't know where he was, or what was going on, but he had been pretty pissed off to find out that his cake, which he had so lovingly carried around all day, was no longer with him. That had been a bust. He'd wanted that cake.

"You okay?" He finally asked her, eyebrows lifting, and second eye opening slowly, before he offered a smile. Only the Cajun could smile at a time like this.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-22 10:25 am UTC (link)
George looked at Gambit slightly incredulous at what he'd said. She wasn't one to panic, but it wasn't like she was purposefully trying to wake them from a beauty sleep. They were trapped in a strange place with some ominous writing on the wall. People weren't trying to sleep, they were probably passed out as she'd been. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, pulling one knee to rest against her torso, and supporting her chin with it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you from your beauty sleep, Gambit." She said disapprovingly, when in reality, she didn't really give a shit. At least that hadn't changed. "Yeah, fine. You?" She couldn't smile back, really, but she had tried. It would be exasperating to have this dude smiling at her at a time like this if, again, George really gave a shit.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 10:34 am UTC (link)
"'Das okay, Petite, I know you ain' mean no harm by it." He wasn't sitting up though, just remaining there on his back and smiling just some. It was actually quite comfortable here, and he wasn't planning on getting up any time soon. But he was sure that would change when the others started waking up. "Oui, mais bien." The slow drawl agreed as he shifted just a little in his comfortable place. He wished it was a bed in the Ritz hotel.. silk sheets.. the Cajun sighed then. It wasn't. One of these days, he'd actually have to go inside a fancy hotel with silk sheets. He idly wondered what it'd look like. Hm.

"'De ot'ers all brea'hin'." He'd made sure to lift his head and check, watch each one until he'd seen some sort of movement. His eyes had lingered particularly long on the Doctor, just to assure himself that the Time Lord was alright. He'd feel even worse (not that it mattered, in the end) if he'd gotten his friend killed.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-22 10:44 am UTC (link)
George really shouldn't be feeling like smiling when he called her Petite and spoke in French. But she did. She did because, well, nobody she knew every spoke French, or with a Cajun accent, and it was just a bit amusing. Cute, maybe, too.

She had been sliding down the wall, still quite drowsy, so much so it was her upper back that was now propped up against the wall. Not exactly comfortable, but she didn't feel like moving.

"I know. I was checking too." Thank God she thought to herself. Somehow even a reaper was now thinking it was a little much for someone else to die. Looking around, she sighed. "So, um, I guess the lack of doors and windows - from what I can see, anyway - means we might as well not try to find a way out, huh?" Sitting ducks, all of them. Just like she had said before.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 02:21 pm UTC (link)
When she slid down to sit (and only once she was sitting) did Gambit speak up and stretch a hand out, pointing at the wall closest to him, just three feet away and to his left, so it pained him some to lift that arm. "Don' be a str'ng'r, mon ami, come an' si' by me, ain' gon' crane my neck t'keep lookin' at you." This, though, came with a smile that said he certainly would keep craning his neck, but that he didn't want to have to.

"Oui. No doors, no windows, no way ou'." Now that was the biggest lie (or, one of them, really) that the Cajun had told here. No doors and no windows had never stopped him from getting out of some place before. He made doors and windows. And if he felt like getting up wasn't going to make him vomit, he would have been up and walking around this place, looking for his escape right now. If anyone could find an exit, it was going to be Gambit. The others were smart enough to figure a way out, but if there was an exit, that Thief would be the one to find it.

"So 'dis is one 'dem experimen's, non? Ain' very good. Like a vaca'ion in here.. Nice an' cool.. s' quie'.. no one screamin' at me t' get up..." Yet. Because Logan hadn't awoken to give him a swift kick in the ribs and tell him to help them find a way out.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-22 03:58 pm UTC (link)
Rolling her eyes, George crawled over to where Gambit was lying down, and sat in the same position she had before, just next to his head. Observing him for a while without speaking, George tilted her head. "You're not looking so sharp." She pointed out.

After he commented on the lameness of this experiment, George snickered sarcastically. "Wait for it." Was all she said, looking up to the writing on the all again.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 05:39 pm UTC (link)
"Wha' you talkin' 'bou', Petite? I look fan'as'ic." He touched his right hand to his chest, as if to prove something by doing it. "Righ' as rain, ain' never been better. Je suis la merveille. Magnifique." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling then, bringing them away from her face so he could focus on the concrete that hovered over head.

"Je crois que je vais laisser tomber." Came the final part of that statement, before he turned his head and flashed that charming smile at her, quite sure that she had no idea what he'd just said, so it was easy to pretend that he'd said he was doing just fine. "Maybe we better wake up 'de ot'ers, non? 'Fore all 'de exci'men' star' wit'ou' 'dem."


[*Translation: I'm wonderful. Magnificent. - I think I'm going to throw up.]

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-23 08:04 am UTC (link)
George snickered, but she wouldn't go against him. If he died, well...That would be too bad. Some of what he said in French she could guess what it meant in English, but not the whole phrase. "You think what?" That was the best she could do. And she didn't return his smile.

"You're way too excited to be here Gambit." George commented, shaking her head while she rolled her eyes.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-22 06:30 pm UTC (link)
Anyone that knew Logan /at all/ ... knows that he does not react well to ... well, bullshit like this.

The fade out, the lack of ability to move ... yeah.

Logan came awake much the way he had when Kaylee'd been put in with him at the library. Slow at first, muzzy-headed ... and then the second his surroundings registered, he catapulted halfway across the room, landing in a crouch, claws out, snarling reflexively as he searched for the danger that little fade out meant had to be here /somewhere/.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 06:45 pm UTC (link)
As soon as he hard those claws, Gambit was closing his eyes. The Beast had woken up. And when he opened them again, it was just in time to see Logan land not too far from him.

"You ain' gon' do not'in' righ' now, mon ami, bes' t' jus' settle in an' take a few deep breat's. Ain' no reason t' get all worke' up. Ain' no one t' figh'." He really, really didn't want to get up. He was sure he'd vomit if he did, but he would get up if he was going to have to physically force his companion to try to settle down. He certainly didn't want him creating bloodshed in here, and turning everyone on everyone else.

He wanted to just lay there and feign sleep, and let the others do what they would. But with Logan awake, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-22 06:51 pm UTC (link)
Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT! Growling and snarling under his breath, but (admittedly) unable to locate anything even remotely threatening, Logan hauled the claws back in. Didn't mean he was anywhere NEAR calm yet, just ... admitting the futility of clawing shit up.

"I fucking HATE this shit." He snarled.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 06:56 pm UTC (link)
"Oui, oui. We all know. Bu' you ain' doin' no one no goo', an you jus' gon' scare everyone in here, an' ain' no one wan' 'dat. You gon' jus' hafta settle down, Logan. We ain' in no danger ye', everyone else still wakin' up. Pace in 'de corner, wear 'dat energy ou', 'den come an' si' down. You like 'de wolf man, or somet'in', homme." The Cajun joked because he had nothing more to do with himself, and if they didn't have someone in here to make light, then they were all going to attack one another and the Powers That Be weren't going to have to do any work at all.

And that didn't sit well with the Cajun, damnit. If he had to work, so did they!

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-23 08:08 am UTC (link)
"WHOOOA!" Was George's reaction to Logan's hyper jump, all claws out and ready to strike. Truth was, she had jumped herself. Good thing apparently Gambit had a way of sort of calming him down. She didn't speak to him so much as watched to see if he was really calming down or not. Because she knew Logan was a good person, but if he saw red like that, with claws out to boot, it was never a good thing.

That was when one of the people George didn't know seemed to stir in his sleep. Yet another awakening, apparently. George turned to look, but of course she wasn't going to speak. Nothing to say, really.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-23 02:21 pm UTC (link)
Breathe, dammit. Focus. He slanted a look at George. "Sorry doll. Me and cages don't get along so good." He growled.

Hate this shit Hate this shit Hate this shit HATE THIS SHIT!!!!! Breathe, dammit.

Ok, so the claws were in, and he wasn't looking like he was going to go for anyone in the room ... didn't mean he'd eased up much. He was still coiled tight as hell.

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[info]walters_journal
2009-06-22 10:47 pm UTC (link)
Rorschach's first thoughts, on waking were of course that something had happened to Merope. He's been worried for a while now, knowing that his partner had gotten into some potentially dangerous business by being a little too affectionate toward Laura's boyfriend. He sat up quickly, initially cursing himself for falling asleep while wearing his mask (what if someone looked under it?), but growing silent as he took in his surroundings. Stone walls. Glowing blue pillars.

No one mourns the wicked.

"Probably true," Rorschach mumbled, turning the collar of his coat up and turning toward the wall. Not that he thought, even for a moment, that he was evil.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-22 11:14 pm UTC (link)
"We go' a brea'ter." Well, they were all breathing, really. But still, 'we've got a talker' simply wasn't going to sound as cool coming from that accent, so Gambit had decided to use his creative license. What else was he going to do besides lay there, bleed, and try not to throw up? He hadn't run into the man ten feet past his head yet, but he had a feeling he was going to know everyone in this room, very intimately, by the time this day was done.

His good hand absently gestured towards the man who'd sat up, as if everyone else who was awake and had eyes, couldn't see it. You were really a fucking fountain of wisdom today, weren't you, Mister LeBeau? Fat lot of good your play-by-play was doing anyone. Still, perhaps he'd said it because he was hoping that his voice would wake up some of the other sleepers in the odd room. In particular, he was hoping the Doctor would wake. Maybe Jack, too. Or that pretty young thing over there with the dark hair and the nice breasts.. she looked like she could have been a dancer. Hm. She could come with him to the Ritz when he finally got a room..

"Ain' gon' be social, mon ami?" The red-headed mutant prompted to the other man-- Remy assumed it was a man because he'd seen no breasts when he'd looked him over, earlier-- with a little smirk curling his face.

Gambit was amused. He was a sick man.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-23 07:54 am UTC (link)
The floor was hard beneath the Doctor and his back certainly did not appreciate that fact. The muscles down his left side twinged as he took a deep breath and stirred. He certainly wasn't on the cracked cement of the Post Office floor as he'd expected to be. Even the Doctor, with his powers of endochrine regulation couldn't manage to keep himself from passing out. That said something. Something the Time Lord didn't like.

Pressing a palm to the smooth concrete beneath him the Doctor pushed himself upright, unconfortably turning to sit and lean back against the wall. The blue light, strangely, was almost comforting. Weird. Looking around he surveyed the occupants. He knew most of them, save the Asian girl and the man in the odd mask.

"Brilliant," he murmured blinking hard again to try and clear his senses. Whatever those string pullers had used had been strong and effective and it still continued to swim behind his eyes. The Doctor lapped at the roof of his mouth. "Is that... Is that... Hexachlorotridazine? You wreckless bastards, there's a reason that's been outlawed." He growled. Just what he needed, another reason to be in a bad mood.

The Doctor looked over the forms. He spied Gambit, giving the other a nod of acknowlegement and slid his eyes to George. At least she wasn't breeaking down, not that he had expected her to. The masked man seemed settled, too. Then there was Logan, practically frothing at the mouth. The Doctor knew nothing he would say could really fix that whole situation, so, he kept his opinion to himself. It was a cell. He didn't like them much, either. Though, he didn't feel the need to work himself up into a lather over it. He recognized River, crumpled up in a heap and wondered where they'd managed to find her. Sam, not in such a crumpled heap was laid out nearby. Then, of course, the Doctor spied Jack's gray coated form. Well, at least the Doctor didn't have to worry about whether or not he'd wake up.

"No one mourns the wicked?" Lip curl, knitted brow, and annoyed voice here.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-23 08:12 am UTC (link)
"The hell's Hexachlorotridazine?" George asked as she noticed yet another familiar face waking up. She was no longer worried, pretty soon the others probably would, too. She didn't make an effort to show the Doctor she had acknowledged him, especially since it was a bit too dark to notice smiles and nods, and George wasn't going to start squeaking ohmygodhello's at anyone.

"And I guess we're it." George told the Doctor, shrugging, after he read the writing on the wall out loud. It was pretty logical.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-23 09:02 am UTC (link)
"Neuroparalyzer combined sedative. With the unfortunate side effect of inhibiting the hypothalmus of many species." The Doctor rubbed his aching head. "Nice seeing you made it through the quake, George." The Doctor smiled.

"Well, I know I'm not wicked." Well, that was plain enough, wasn't it.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 11:52 am UTC (link)
When he noted the Doctor waking up, a smile curved his face, and the acknowledging nod was returned. Yes, Doctor, he'd seen you, and he was glad you were awake. But he still wasn't sitting up yet. Give him a few more minutes to enjoy just laying there. He'd fallen onto his sore shoulder and now it was throbbing. And whatever it was that had made him pass out in the first place was really messing with his stomach. He knew he was going to vomit if he stood up. And on top of that, the Cajun had only had sugar filled things since coming here. Twinkies. HoHos. Canned peaches. Canned pears. Donuts. Soda. And he'd been planning on eating that cake next, as he hadn't eaten all morning. But the cake was gone. And so was his sugar high. Which probably helped explain some of the upset stomach.

The thought made him chuckle softly from his spot on the floor. Oh, this was so wrong. He was just about done playing this game. It wasn't as much fun as it had been when he'd gotten here. Oh, his shoulder hurt, don't laugh too much, idiot.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-23 05:57 pm UTC (link)
"...Okay." Now, if only George knew what a hypothalmus was. Or if the journals had google, that would work too. She nodded courteously at the Doctor and smiled faintly. "You too."

Of course she had to laugh at him saying he wasn't wicked. "I guess that depends on the definition of wicked." she said, shrugging. Looking to her side at Gambit, George didn't know whether to be offended by his chuckling, or just amused. Maybe both. "The hell are you laughing about?" She asked softly.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-24 02:48 am UTC (link)
Gambit laughed louder when George asked him what he was laughing about, but he just flashed her that easy smile and turned his head, then lifted his eyebrows. "'Cause, petite, 'dis funny, oui? We in a room, in 'de cen'er o' 'de ear't," Not quite, but he'd always liked exaggerating, "An' 'dey gon' do 'xperimen's on us." And why was that funny? "I saw 'dis episo'e of 'de X-Files las' mon't. An' I can tell you, 'de goo' guys win."

But who were the good guys?

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[info]jack_and_rum
2009-06-23 12:27 pm UTC (link)
Jack had been speaking. He was sure of it. His hand was raised to point out something and he'd taken a breath. Surely he hadn't had so much to drink that he'd lost account of where he was for long enough to be lying face down on cold stone in a somewhat dark and dank place. He wrinkled his nose and let out the breath. Was it the same one? Who knew? His bottle of rum was gone and that made this entire situation a lot more bleak.

Wobbly, he grunted and heaved himself up to a sitting position. His fingers searched the floor for his hat as his eyes swept the room and the other people in it. "Who are all of you then and which one of you stole my rum?" he slurred in a much more drunk manner than he actually was. For effect he swayed and slid the hat onto his head at a very odd angle. Best to get the lay of the land first from the vantage point of the discounted drunkard. Worked better than pretending to be blind sometimes.

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[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-23 02:22 pm UTC (link)
This was twice now. Twice Jack was waking up after being thoroughly out of it -- once when he woke up in Vas Captio proper and the second when he woke up wherever he was. Groaning as he pulled himself into a sitting position, Jack flicked his body from one side to the other, hissing as his entire back cracked. At least that felt better.

Was about as bad as jumping through time with his Vortex Manipulator. What was it with this place and painful 're-entries'?

"What the hell?" Jack asked, eyes falling upon familiar and not so familiar faces. The Doctor, himself, Logan and Gambit all in one place -- oh for the love of god. Jack looked at the pirate, arching a brow. "Don't know who took it but I could do with a swig. Or a hypervodka. I'm not about to be picky."

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-23 02:24 pm UTC (link)
All the chatter between Gambit and the others was managing to bring Logan down out of the rafters, if slowly. By the time Sparrow came to, he was actually feeling halfway civil. Well, towards everyone but Ror, who'd gotten a sneer.

"I'm Logan, that's the Doc, that's Gambit, that's George. Nobody's got your rum, sorry to say. Could probably use a drink myself." Even if getting drunk took a shitload of booze.

"Who the hell are you?" He wanted to know, having never run across Sparrow before.

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[info]notgivingashit
2009-06-23 06:00 pm UTC (link)
After waving dismissively at Logan's apology - who did like cages, anyway? - George sort of saluted at the man with the funny accent once Logan introduced her. She had to laugh. At his question, she knew exactly who he was. And if she could see his clothes properly, even more so. "That's the pirate, Logan. Captain Jack something or other."

And she could also use a drink at this point. Very much so. It seemed they were all in agreement. "Yeah if anyone finds this man's rum, I want some too." At least here she was probably not going to be called an alcoholic.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 06:11 pm UTC (link)
It had taken Gambit a few seconds to process the Doctor's words. The Neurotaxelizer what? Was it going to take their money? Hah! Jokes on them. The Cajun didn't have any money with him! And the Hippo-thali-mice? Well. He'd never been scared of hippos or mice, so the joke was on them there, too. And the thought had the Cajun smiling wider and shaking his head. He was too smart for these people.

"Ain' no rum. Ain' no w'sk'y. Bu' if you go' your books, 'dey work. You can wri'e ou' to 'de people on 'de ou'si'e. Your lil' missus is lookin' for you, Capt'in." Just so that the other man knew. But then Gambit was lifting a hand and pointing to Logan. "An' you gotta learn some mann'rs, Logan. Can' jus' go 'roun' 'man'in' t'in's." So said the Cajun, who did the same thing, when it suited him. But this pot had never had a problem calling the kettle black.

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[info]jack_and_rum
2009-06-23 07:57 pm UTC (link)
Well weren't they a friendly and welcoming bunch. All jumping over themselves to introduce him to their annoyance. He lifted his hands and leaned back slightly from the who'd asked who the hell he was. "The lady is right. Captain Jack Sparrow at you - well her service." He wasn't going to take off his hat in a flourish for the obviously anger impared gentleman.

The strangely accented voice mentioned the word Captain and Jack's attention swerved toward it as he swayed slowly. "The little winged woman was looking for me?" Jack asked and his brows rose, lips pursing as he contemplated that. It didn't seem probable that the tiny woman who had been so crushed in the earthquake could be looking for him. "I hardly think so." He dismissed the red-eyed, red-haired man with a shrug and wandered along the wall, peering into corners and nooks for his bottle or any other bottle therein.

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[info]brokengirl
2009-06-23 06:54 pm UTC (link)
River had been in the gym when she passed out. She did not pay it no mind when it began to take over but rather gave in and closed her eyes. The pain in her arm was slowing to a numbness with unconciousness and River preferred that over what she had been feeling before. True she couldn't do much with her right arm since her calvical was shattered but it still felt nice to sleep for a minute...

The talking and sudden noise startled River. She awoke letting out a light scream and unfortunetly sat up way to fast. She tried to lean back only to succede in hitting her head against the wall behind her. She reached up with her left hand to rub at it and glance at the words across the room.

River glared daggers into the dark words knowing full well she was one of them. River was not as innocent as her brother, Simon, would have liked to believe. She once killed a man with simply a pen. She knew she could have done it with her mind but secretly River wanted the satisfaction of feeling him slip away beneath her hands.

She moved her head as her eyes darted from the nine others in the room with her. Although she had only met three of them she already knew the other's names just by one glance at them.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-06-24 02:26 am UTC (link)
Sam awoke to the sound of a woman screaming, his mind immediately jumping to Shannon who had been right beside him a minute ago. He sat up quickly, immediately regretting it as a lightheaded feeling enveloped his brain and threatened to send him back to the ground. He gripped the side of his jeans, in an attempt to stay upright, becoming aware of the fact that he was no longer in the rubble of the museum.

He tried to think back to what had happened, but all he could remember was finding Domeki's body in the rubble and then the white light followed immediately after by darkness. He scanned the room, seeing familiar faces and others he hadn't seen before in the underground space. Shannon wasn't there and worry immediately took hold in the depths of his stomach. Where was she? Still at the museum? Or had they knocked him out and then taken her. If anything happened to her he'd never forgive himself for letting himself be taken out so easily. His eyes fell on the writing on the wall and he swallowed, a deep frown falling across his face.

He recognized George, River, Jack, The Doctor, the man with the red eyes called Gambit. He could pick out Rorschach thanks to his mask, but he had no idea who the guy who looked like a pirate might be, or the other man who looked jumpy.

When the lightheaded feeling passed and he was sure he wasn't going to fall over, Sam leaned forward, putting his hands between his bent knees. He looked at the Doctor, easily the only other captive he trusted implicitly. "Any ideas where we might be?" He asked.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-24 02:44 am UTC (link)
The poor Doctor wouldn't get a chance to answer Sam's question, because Gambit was lifting his journal into the air and shaking it some to get Sam's attention, but remained laying lazily on his back.

"Sam. 'De girlfrien' wan' you t' call her when you ain' dea'. You go' your book?" It was Remy's lazy way of saying that if Sam didn't have his journal, he was welcome to borrow his. Because having a pretty blonde girl with claws sharper than Logan's mad at him? Not something he wanted. Not at all.

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[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-24 08:25 am UTC (link)
Jack rolled his eyes in Gambit's direction, ignoring the jab about the 'little missus'. Whatever. He wasn't in the mood to get up in arms about things right now and if he did, well -- it would end up in a similar state to the barn raising yesterday.

In a smaller space with nowhere to escape to and cool off? Not exactly Jack's idea of a good time. So he kept his tongue and satisfied himself with a roll of the eyes. It would have to do.

"No idea," Jack replied, looking over at Sam. "The assumption is underground but there's no way to know for sure. See no windows and we think we have to be underground." Strangely, though, Jack felt at home here. Felt like the Hub.

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[info]jack_and_rum
2009-06-24 05:58 pm UTC (link)
Jack had wandered away into a dark corner of the cave, thinking all the while that maybe he was somewhere on the Isle de Muerte, lost in the treasure caves. Maybe he was finally back in familiar territory. It was nice to think so and perhaps the black magic of that place had been some kind of dream. Though the people around him were all dressed strangely so it was possible he was still stuck wherever he'd been.

All the same, he wanted his rum so he continued looking around the edges of the wall, hoping it had fallen and rolled there. Safe and sound to be found and prized again.

It took him a moment to realize the trickling sound he was hearing wasn't one of the barbarians behind him relieving himself but something worse.

"'Scuse me," he called out, turning around a bit quickly with a half-flail of his arms. "Any of you think that should be happening?" he asked, pointing one ringed finger toward the water spilling in through a crack and spreading quickly toward his boot. He danced a few steps backward, bumping into the tall man with the long coat who had just finished talking.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-24 06:05 pm UTC (link)
Pirate, right. Ok, he'd heard wierder.

"I could always try to dig us out, if this is just plain rock." He said, poking a wall with a finger. IF it was plain rock, his claws would go through like butter. But he was betting it wasn't going to be that easy. Gambit's scold ... most of which he hadn't understood thanks to the accent, he ignored completely.

He was right. The sound of dripping water, combined with Jack's yelp had him hustling over.

"Awww, fuck." He sounded more annoyed than anything else. "Fuck. Figures. Ok ... time to figure out how to get out of here before that gets worse."

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-24 06:19 pm UTC (link)
Gambit let out a breath when Other Jack started talking.. but he turned his head over to look at the man, lifting his eyebrows lazily. Until he saw the water. The mutant was pushing himself to sit up then, wincing a bit as he did. "Non." This was not going to happen to him. No way. He had no interest in being drown. Slowly, he pushed up to his feet, shrugging his ruined jacket off his back (there was a large burned oval in it, about two feet tall, and a foot wide, where it'd been ruined earlier today) and rolling his shoulder. He left behind a blood smear on the ground where he'd been laying, thanks to the gash in his shoulder from the wood (also from earlier today). The coat was left behind on the ground, leaving him just in his charred black tank-top, and Gambit moved smoothly from his side of the room, to the other side of the room where the crack was allowing the water in.

He moved past Other Jack without a glance at him, but was kneeling down in front of that wall, knees of his jeans soaking in the water as he leaned in to inspect the crack. That wasn't good.

"Merde." He pressed his hand over it to see if it would stem the flow, but the water just seeped out from under his palm. Another soft curse followed, and he was tugging off his tank-top (there you go, Proper Jack, and you could enjoy it too, George, no one would fault you) and pushing the tank-top up against the crack to try and stop the water. And it worked, for about thirty seconds, before the cloth just started getting wet.

"Non, don' t'ink 'dat shoul' be happenin', ami." He turned some, keeping his tank-top pressed there, and looked back over at Logan for a few long seconds, before he looked at the Doctor.

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[info]jack_and_rum
2009-06-24 09:52 pm UTC (link)
More of the strange words and anger. Jack rolled his eyes heavenward at both men who had actually reacted to what he'd discovered. It was simply water though. He was well versed in water. Enjoyed water. Liked water a lot more than he liked being stuck here with these angry people. Why couldn't there be an amusingly simple Norrington type among them? He'd have given the entirety of one Cortez gold coin to someone who could attempt to behave as though the world weren't coming to an end over a crack in the wall with some water.

Standing back, Jack took his hat off and held it to his chest. "The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want...." he intoned, his voice trailing off as the trickle of water turned into an all out roar, squeezing past strangely red haired man's shirt, sending the shirt sailing through the sky toward the unawakened woman. His eyes followed its arc and he wondered if he should go over and find out if she was still alive.

The water was more an interest though so he danced back a few more steps and smiled, watching things get a lot more complicated.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-24 10:10 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor had been allowing people to talk among themselves. He didn't really feel like he had to add his own voice to that mix. No, what he needed to do was think. So, he started by standing up, smoothing out his suit and walking around the room, hunched over a bit; but, still following the perimeter. When he'd started everything was dry. When he'd finished, the corner far from him sprung a leak.

For the most part, people seemed calm about it. Well, the pirate started praying, Gambit looked moderately concerned, and Logan and Jack? Well, let's throw them in the concerned bunch as well.

"Would someone mind tugging that poor girl away from the oncoming water?" He only asked because he'd thrown his back all the way out this time, hunching over with his hand in the small of it.

The Doctor wasn't going to panic. No, he still held quite fast that these experiments weren't intended to kill; not intentionally, anyway. The water was starting to pool around his ankles, the mud coming off his trainers in ribbons. "Brilliant," he muttered. Wet feet. He hated wet feet.

The Doctor stepped up to the gash, trying to estimate the amount of water coming in. There was no way they were under water. This had to be from a pipe or a pump.

"Logan, would you mind cutting into some strategic points? They couldn't have just transmatted us in here; there must be a door somewhere." If Logan cut into portions of the wall they'd find out quickly if the entire thing was under ground.

"Let's start with the floor, shall we?"

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-24 10:52 pm UTC (link)
"Right, Doc." Logan said. First thing's first, though, he grabbed Ammy and hauled her away from the water. Then he headed for the corner furthest from the leak (on the theory that whatever was pumping the water in was only on the one end) and popped a claw.

He had, however, learned his lesson after punching the glass wall. This time, there was no punching. He set the claw against the rock floor and, putting pressure on it, pulled.

"Damn. They anticipated that." He growled.

On the floor, where there /should/ have been a nice, deep groove cut by his claw, was what looked like a chalk mark, a thin, white line on the rock where he'd dragged his claw.

"Don't think my claws are gonna get us out of this one, Doc." Not even as climbing pitons. Shit. He eyed the water.

He /hated/ drowning.

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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-25 03:34 pm UTC (link)
Gambit looked over at Logan from where he was kneeling in front of the crack, then let out a breath and looked back up at the Doctor towering over him. He was quite sure that even though Logan's claws couldn't get through, that he could wedge one of those screws in his pocket, into the division of concrete on the floor, and charge it to explode, and they'd get a small hole. It might take a few of those to make a hole big enough for the Doctor's plan, but he was sure he'd be able to do it. Metal against their technology was one thing. But you couldn't stop an explosion.

However, he was a little more concerned with the water pouring in. He wasn't panicking by any means, but he certainly wasn't nonchalant about it. And the reason for his concern was voiced just a moment later, as he slowly stood up, lifted his eyes to the ceiling that hovered two or three feet above his head, then looked back at the Doctor beside him. "I can' swim." He admitted quietly, before looking over at Logan. "Nei'ter can he." He knew Logan couldn't swim from experience. He was heavy enough that he just sort of sunk. It was amusing, actually.

Still, his words had been deceptively calm. He was relatively sure they weren't going to die, these people weren't trying to murder them, just mess with their heads. But Remy had an instinctive fear of the rising water, because he was unable to swim.

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[info]capt_harkness
2009-06-25 06:45 pm UTC (link)
Just fucking fantastic.

Jack had been silent, letting the others discuss amongst themselves, that is -- until the water started. He swallowed hard, looking up at the corner where the water was beginning to spill in. Of all the ways to go, water was at the top of the ways he absolutely hated. Drowning was like being buried alive and that Jack never wanted to experience ever again.

Gray...

His boots were now wet and the water was still rising. Jack wasn't quite disrobing yet. Not until they knew how fast and how far the water was going to rise. He and Logan would be okay but what about the others. Was this their curse? Show a bit of initiative and get knocked down a peg. Perhaps Jack had spoken a bit too soon in regards to threatening the Insider.

"The columns," Jack said after a moment. "They look like their natural but what if they aren't? Might be able to get someone up or down through there depending..."

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[info]brokengirl
2009-06-25 09:23 pm UTC (link)
River did not say anything when the others started to talk to each other and Sam awoke. She pulled her knees up close to her and wraped her left arm around them while her right rested in her lap.

She looked up when the pirate pointed out the rising water and chose to just rest her forehead on her knees and not move. Starrting to cry she held herself close and thought about the different endings. If she died would it really be that bad? If she died would she go away forever or would she return to Simon?

"They don't lie down...never lie down..." she quietly muttered.

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[info]demonboyking
2009-06-25 11:19 pm UTC (link)
Sam's brow furrowed at Gambit when he called out his name and started talking about his girlfriend. He meant Shannon, of course. Sam shook his head. "I lost my journal in the museum." He and Shannon had gone back for it and found Domeki's lifeless body instead. He thought he saw the red eyed man hold the journal up a moment longer as if he expected him to take it and then the appearance of the water was pointed out.

He watched the others inspect it. Inwardly rolling his eyes as Gambit took off his shirt to stop the leak. A moment later a burst of water sent the shirt flying and Sam scrambled to his feet and picked up Remy's journal near the blood smear on the ground to keep it from getting wet. It was possible that the others had their journals too, but Sam wasn't about to throw away a connection with Shannon. He glanced down at it, studying her handwriting and then looked back up at Gambit. "Do you mind if I leave Shannon a message?" Sam asked.

A moment later the Doctor spoke up and Sam watched Logan attempt to cut into the floor to no avail. He thought he should be more taken back by Logan, but he knew Luna and Andy trusted him and so did he by default. He watched the water spread across the floor, wondering what the point of this experiment was. He still hadn't figured out the point of the others, except to break them down psychologically.

Against the wall River began to cry and Sam moved towards her, kneeling in front of her. "It's okay, we're going to get out of here." The words came naturally and effortlessly. Which was surprising, considering Sam didn't really know if that was the truth.

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[info]walters_journal
2009-06-26 10:47 am UTC (link)
Rorschach had been observing, much like the Doctor, not even answering Remy when he had spoken earlier. This was strangely similar to the other experiment that he had been a part of, some days ago. Except, this one seemed to be more intent on making the people involved despair.

Damn Insider. Toying with them. But Rorschach had one comfort, in all of this: his responsibility, his partner, was not here. Putting his hands in his pockets, shuffling, staying near the wall, he wondered if hysteria would cause everyone to tear each other apart.

"Is not good to panic. Waste more air that way," he said gruffly. "Where is water leaking in from? Maybe weak spot in stone."

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[info]jack_and_rum
2009-06-26 01:07 pm UTC (link)
Jack still had his hat to his chest, his expression thoughtful as he glanced around the cave at the others. No one was paying him any attention so he was able to take stock without anyone asking for his help. He wasn't exactly the helping sort. He'd get his own tale out of a sticky situation but they could all fend for themselves as far as he was concerned. They were big, strong men. They could handle it.

When the terse man with the red hair growled something about not panicking, Jack took that as a cue to set his hat atop his head and wander toward the man, trudging through the water which was fast approacing the top of his boots. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the man, eying the room while leaning conspiratorially toward him.

"Which one do you figure will play hero by trying to make it bigger in hopes of swimming out?" He pointed a bit haphazardly around the room. "Here's a clue. Definitely will not be her," he said and made a face at the still unconscious Ammy.

Was that something in his hat? He looked up, half-expecting to see Barbossa's damned monkey but instead got a face full of water from a new crack in the ceiling. "Hm, not sea water," he spluttered and side-stepped the drizzle, moving very close to Rorschach as he did.

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[info]fromgallifrey
2009-06-27 06:57 pm UTC (link)
The Doctor outwardly groaned as Logan's claws proved ineffective against what appeared to be mere concrete. Walking around the room now he pressed his ear against it, tapping as he moved along. He was going to figure out just what this deathtrap was made out of. They weren't under water, the water had to be piped in from some place. He was moving slowly as he caught what Gambit had said.

"No one will be drowning in this," his tone left nothing to argue about - and if those with chips on their shoulders saw fit to, the Doctor would happily ignore them. This wasn't like witty banter over the journals; no, this was real and he wouldn't dare waste his energy trying to convince someone that they either weren't or didn't want to die.

Another crack had formed in the ceiling and the Doctor was still going about his business. He was going to find where the weak spot was. It could be a door, it could be a hatch it could be where the pipe wasn't settled just so. He wasn't going to ask for help and he wasn't going to explain himself. He'd had enough of people questioning him. Now all he had to do was actually think and work.

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[info]clawed_one
2009-06-27 09:08 pm UTC (link)
Logan gave first Gambit, then Harkness a long, grim-faced look.

He fucking HATED drowning. He fucking hated /cages/. He started prowling around the edges of the room, more or less ignoring everyone else because otherwise he'd bite someone's head off.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He HATED this shit. He fought the temptation to punch the wall. Wouldn't do a damn bit of good, and with the way cracks were opening up ... might do harm. No need to drown faster.

Eventually, though, realizing there was nothing else he could do, he walked over to Ammy and hauled her up to a standing position ... even sitting up, she was in danger of drowning, what with her still being asleep. He propped her against one of the columns and used his own body weight to /keep/ her standing up.

"Wonder what the fuck they did to her that she's not wakin' up." He rumbled, to no one in particular.

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