Who: Simms (Solo) When: 5am Where: His room, then the rest of the station
What Simms woke up to wasn't sun on his face, but it was the closest god damned thing to it that he had felt in weeks.
Simms woke up easily, just like everybody else, but to the warm colors of the room that had been gifted to him upon arrival, and not the dull grey and blue that had been his room for the past forty-something days. He didn't want to question it, out of fear that this was a fluke, or worse, a dream. He hadn't had great dreams since sleeping on that damn cot in his cell. It wasn't comfortable like this bed, which actually had room for all of him. This was even better than the damn recliner in the batcave's viewing room, which he had taken to falling asleep in like some old man.
It was bright out, like the windows weren't showing digital landscapes, but a true autumn's day. When he pulled himself out of bed, he wished that he could still throw open the window, and get some fresh air. Feel a god damned breeze.
His true gift was better than fresh air.
He had thought before about what he would do if and when the roles were reversed, and he was in charge, but never had he imagined just what had been set up for him. After a quick shower, and a few even quicker messages, Simms ventured down the spiral staircase that made this room different than the one back at the mansion. Down he went, to a floor that left a lot to be desired. The bunk beds were useless when he had such a nice bed upstairs, and if this was to be the room for the other Experiment B members, they were short a bed. Unless Daphne was supposed to be coming up to share his bed.
The next level was much more interesting, and as he made it all the way down into the station, his face nearly ached from how wide his smile had grown. already, he could see the rows of monitors, each showing off all the subjects in their various states of panic and concern. All of them in prison jumpsuits. All of them locked in and waiting for his arrival. He stood there for a moment, just trying to familiarize himself with the rooming arrangements, and everyone's locations. He was already tying to figure out how to proceed when he did a little bit of exploring to the rest of the room. He peeked into each interrogation room, and held off on entering each block, not wanting to ruin an entrance by being curious.
His favorite part of the station was the large supply closet, and while it was missing some tools he would have liked to have had, he still had a pile of handcuffs, which were sure to come in handy, and a good number of other things. Keys. Mace. A police baton. Duct tape. A firehose, which was peculiar, but interesting. He grabbed a few sets of handcuffs, the set of keys, and his baton. It was a good start. More importantly, it made him feel more like himself again, which caught him off guard. He had tried not to let himself feel dehumanized.
The last set of stairs led down to a kitchen, and he set aside the beer that Felix had requested before making himself a quick breakfast. He didn't want to eat the same old thing he had been forced into eating during his incarceration, but it seemed a shame to waste any more time on cooking. He toyed with one of the small paring knives he had found in a drawer, before deciding to at least bring it up to the desk in the station. Just in case. In case of what, he wasn't sure yet.
Whatever it was, it was going to be fun. This whole day was going to be fun. There would probably be blood, maybe some broken bones, maybe the start of some PTSD.
There would be no going back from the things that he wanted to do, but at this point, what did he have to lose?