Day 44: Men's Showers, Second Shift

[notachick]

Okita had woken with a start, his breath coming back to him in a rush. Toward the end of the night, he had sworn he'd seen someone in the shadows - someone no taller than a boy of nine, a mask covering his face, blood running down his front. He'd seen him. There was no way of mistaking that outfit or that mask; and Okita didn't need to see the

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[tartaros_avatar]

Recluse truly did not care for this shift. It was good to get clean, yes, but white tile with bright lights and echoing noise never made for an enjoyable experience. His still remaining anger over the events of last night made everything just that much worse.

Recluse closed his eyes, trying to relax. Things were going well in manipulating Marcus, at the very least. It was almost farcical that they both had to die in agony to get closer to something like trust.

[Free and grumpy as a wet spider!]

[hamelinschild]

The day thusfar had turned into a veritable rollercoster of moods for Hart, something he'd been sure that he'd left behind. No such luck obviously

[tartaros_avatar]

Someone was standing next to him now. Recluse opened a blood red eye to see if it was anyone he'd be required to converse with.

...Well. It was satisfying to see a reaction like that every so often. It was a little more difficult when he didn't have his spider limbs nor a general level of infamy surpassing all others.

"Yes?" This might actually become an amusing shift.

[hamelinschild]

Proper speech and small motor skills up and evacuated Hart's mind on that single word, a feat not easily done since the group freak-out over the fate of Bart. But for now, he struggled to right his flailing inner-self, which only manifested in an ill-hidden and nervous chuckle.

"Un...um--hi." This attempt to smile without looking like a total freak went through somewhat passably and wrapped up just as awkwardly with him rubbing an arm, just to keep hands busy.

And he really, really looked dumb.
"Uh--eheh, dirt, you know?"
Real smooth, Hart.

But speaking of dirt, it hadn't been lost to him that a good number of people in the room had their fair share of wounds--many fresh. It didn't exactly detract from the monster theory he so vehemently wished to deny. Guess it was time to make friends.

"--you...been here long?"

[tartaros_avatar]

The across the board failure of this one was almost adorable, a word he would acknowledge if not ever seriously use.

The first two statements weren't worth more than a nod in response. He wasn't exactly one for small talk, after all. "Twenty-two days." Longer than the vast majority of those now here, something that was almost bothering to him.

"I assume you are new?"

[hamelinschild]

"Oh, you could say that." He left out the rest about how he'd actually been under psychiatric care before, but in the face of a future monster attack, it didn't exactly seem relevant any more. The amusing bit in all of this would have been that Hart had spoken to this man mere moment ago, though across the guise of the bulletin board.

"But uh--" He scrounged for a topic, unsure where to take it. "--I know a guy who's been in for ten. But twenty-two--that's got to have been trying. You look like you're fairing just fine though."

Oh. CRAP.
No. No. That was not thinly veiled flirting. Not at all.

[tartaros_avatar]

"Ah. Have you been through a night here, then?" Gods, he hated being helpful, but if this man was new, then a little manipulation couldn't hurt... Not much, at least.

Well. That was just a little odd. He made no outward reaction beyond a very slight smirk, not quite as worrisome as the wolfish smile he usually made when amused. "I have enough experience to deal with this." Frankly, compared to cross-dimensional invasions, Marcus, and a giant amoeba bent on destroying human civilization, this was rather dull.

[hamelinschild]

"And you look it too."

CRAP. Thought before words, Hart. Try it sometime, lest you wind up becoming someone's bitch. And wait--did this mean that the ZEX fellow was really seriously an alien? Oh bugger. Yeah--at this rate, Hartley was going to become the next Nightwing, alien on his arm and all. What a mess. Whatever happened to normal conversation?

Oh yeah. That's right. All his old conversation took place with him as either the bottom totem, or with a speedster who carried him around like toy poodle. Of course he was bumbling--he hadn't actually spoken in a normal (as normal as all of this could be) conversation to anyone in ages. It was all snark and costumes and -maybe- a brawling tangle with McCullough.

But back to the topics on hand. Good lord. Try not to screw up too much, Hart. Okay?

"And yeah--I've spent through a night here. Fairly uneventful for me. Guess I was lucky." And it was so, so hard to keep himself from countering the other's barely-there smirk with a just-as-devious smile.

[tartaros_avatar]

It was almost a shame they were changing topics. This was a fairly effective distraction from all his current problems. He was happy to still be devoid of morals, however- if he'd been any different, then this whole incident would be making him feel incredibly guilty after what he'd experienced last night.

Hmm. And it was quite possible he knew who this man was. "You wouldn't happen to be Piper, would you?"

[hamelinschild]

Again an internal reprise of; Oh crap. This couldn't have been the--

Big, tall, strong--looking horribly capable of making more than just weapons.
Oh bugger. And here he'd been ready to throw open his door to the man. Had they not met now, the prospect of opening up to some musclebound brick wall with the light out and the nasties roaming... It felt a little chilling. But on the lighter side, at least they were having their first meeting blocked in with a bunch of other people. Safety in numbers.

"--and you'd be Recluse then?"

Though this was nice to meet early, Hart really wished they could have made the exchange a little less...naked.

With some hesitation, Hartley stuck out a soapy hand. Shake his awkward, bubble-covered hand, you bastard. He doesn't know what to do with himself!

[tartaros_avatar]

"I am." Two moments of shock in one conversation. This was going well. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person," Recluse said, acting as if absolutely nothing was odd about this situation, such as total lack of clothing.

He shook Piper's hand, quite genuinely trying to not grind the other man's knuckles together, but it was always so difficult. He no longer felt like he was living in a world made out of cardboard, but most of the preternatural muscle control he'd had was gone now too.

[hamelinschild]

The handshake, while uncomfortable at best, didn't manage to put off Hart any more than he'd already been jostled. While not as...huge, Captain Cold's a pretty strong man and each and every one of his Rogues could attest to being thrown around by the man at one time for another. Survive one of those and you're pretty much set for life. Nothing was going to take you under.

Unfortunately though, still trying to sort himself together from between now and everything months prior--the think-before-you-speak option failed again. Miserably.

"And it's a pleasure for me as--" He pulled his hand back and shut his mouth, turning into the spray to scrub his hair.

No. No we are not going to give ourselves the chance to be an even bigger idiot. We just GOT here.

"--nice to meet you. Really."

[tartaros_avatar]

That was at the very least worth a chuckle, something he didn't quite have the focus or initiative change into anything less villainous than a close relative of an evil laugh.

"You don't need to be so nervous. I have no reason to take offense." Actually, it was rather more interesting to just let this happen.

[hamelinschild]

Soppy and soapy, standing there in the spray, Hart very much resembled a drowned rat, wearing an expression somewhere between a pout and a scowl. Neither aided in making him look more menacing or unamused--just wet and cute. Evil just had never been this thing, as much as he'd tried when he was younger.

"You know--" he sputtered, raking a hand back through his short hair, "--that can be taken about six different ways, half of which can get a guy punched out or worse in prison for saying the wrong thing in reply."

[tartaros_avatar]

"I have no interest in getting sedated. And please, give me more credit than that. I was an evil overlord, not a common thug. I have standards," Recluse replied, returning to cleaning himself off. This was highly entertaining.

[hamelinschild]

"Evil overload. Nice--" When he does get the stones to speak again, Hart did manage to sound amused--which he was to a point, under all of that embarrassment of course. "--I really must know how to pick them, huh?" And there was the more natural tone, a light laugh and all.

"And since we're here and not killing each other," The redness that was creeping over his face had -nothing- to do with the heat of the water. "I'm going to pull a 'One Flew Over-' later and have myself smothered for even suggesting the idea to myself, but so long as no one is gutting anyone else, could I actually ask you a favor?"