sooner or later god'll cut you down

[metallonkardia]

Who: Group 2.
Where: The dregs of the ship.
When: ~all weekend.
Warnings: Swearing, violence, general creepiness, references to loads of death of loved ones, Stephen King-esque monsters, etc.
Notes: This will be the catch-all log post for the group of characters going to the bridge. Sure we could assume, but what's the fun of unspeakable horrors

Comments

● BOSS FIGHT

[batmanschmatman]

Dick just shook his head slightly before tucking his communicator back in one of the compartments of his gauntlets. He was honestly a little surprised they were still getting reception down here - how did these things even work, anyway? - and he'd be lying if he said he was totally on board for O'Brien's plan, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. They were stuck in the bowels of the ship, with god only knows what else, and Dick honestly couldn't even say how long they'd been down here. Maybe it was the Barge, maybe it was Flagg, but his sense of time was completely gone. They could have been looking for the bridge for a few hours, or it could have been a month, and he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference

[metallonkardia]

Connor puts his away, too. For a moment there - hadn't O'Brien left days ago? But that's insane. They haven't been down here that long; the more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to piece together a timeline how long - has he ever felt tired? Hungry? Have they slept? He's short with O'Brien over the communicator.

"We're losing time," he murmurs, and he's not wholly sure what he means by it. Moving too slow? Or is something pulling away from them?

He's injured, exhausted, his chest hurts; he's short of breath and he can feel his pulse in his throat, weak and erratic. John knows he shouldn't be pushing himself like this, not yet. He tells himself he doesn't have a choice, but shouldn't he be guarding the heart that isn't really his with extreme care? He walks ahead of Grayson, one gloved hand trailing against the nearest wall for something like orientation.

[ourlastbesthope]

"It's irrelevant," he muttered back to the time comment. He was used to the disorientation about time, but he also sensed that, even if they hurried, they wouldn't be going any faster. They weren't the ones in control at the moment, though they seemed to be throwing things off. Slightly

[batmanschmatman]

Yeah, that weird talking was what was concerning him, and part of him wanted to stop and make sure the scientist wasn't pushing himself too hard, but they didn't really have a choice but to soldier on. Capa wasn't heading back by himself while injured, and he wasn't leaving John here, alone, to fix whatever was going on. Both options were too dangerous, and he wasn't letting anyone get left behind, so for now, he was just going to have to settle for sticking close and hoping no one was hiding any injury that was bad enough that it could be a problem

[metallonkardia]

John looks over at Capa, and though he's not really inclined towards any cynical quips right now - I didn't see anyone's fucking name on it, maybe Tell that to my father - nonsensical, out of context; why he feels like saying anything at all makes him think they've reached the stage of this trial that's going to fuck with their heads. Great. His look is half understanding, half 'You have no idea', and if telegraphs anything, it's Fuck time travel, man.

... But that's not what's going on here. Right now. Focus, Connor.

"Wherever it sounds hollow."

He thinks about it, really thinks about it, not for the first time. Time manipulation has no power over John. He's a fucking paradox. Time changes, but he'll always be the same. It's not-

-thunk. The tip of his boot finds the next wall before the rest of him.

"Here."

[ourlastbesthope]

Capa wandered closer and tilted his head to the side. "That seemed a little easy," he commented, but he wasn't going to complain. He was tired. They were all tired. He was hurting. They were all hurting. So what did it matter if one more thing was thrown at them? They had to survive through this; what other choice was there? Something was going to happen. Capa could anticipate that much and he was ready for it.

But, he was a follower in times like these and did as John requested, kneeling down to start cutting through the wall.

[batmanschmatman]

Dick once again turned to make sure nothing was getting too close to them, knowing John would be falling into what was now routine too, and kind of reassured by it. However long they'd been here, this had become habit, and everyone had played their roles well. While he hadn't thought they'd give up or get killed or run at the first sign of trouble, it was still good to know that he could count on them. Even if he wasn't sure of anything else, he at least was sure of himself and his teammates.

There didn't seem to be any crew members coming at them for once. Maybe O'Brien had already succeeded. Maybe whatever he'd done had helped cripple Flagg and brought back some normalcy.

That seemed a little too optimistic even for him, and the nagging voice at the back of his head that sounded way too much like Bruce told him not to let his guard down, so he just focused on the task at hand.

[metallonkardia]

With no mobbing forces on their heels, John can focus on using the hand-held laser cutter to help this go faster; by now they've got a pattern going, and cutting away enough for them to slip through is old hat. (One bright spot.)

The next room is different. It's not a hallway, not a bilge chamber, but a genuine room. The walls and floor are still steel, but they're painted red; it can't be more than twelve feet deep. There's a single light bulb suspended form the ceiling, illuminating the empty area. At the other side of the room, there are two things: an off-centered door, slim and curved at the edges, a proper nautical seal door. There's a circular window at the top of it, but it's blacked out on the other side, and the latched handle has a keyhole over it. Next to the door, there is a red phone mounted to the wall. Above it in plain text are two words:

GO TOPSIDE

As soon as all three of them are in the room, the phone begins to ring, and from the hallway behind them, quiet noises of something stirring begin to sound. Faintly.

[ourlastbesthope]

Capa slipped through once the wall was down and looked around, sucking in a breath. It seemed as if this might be some kind of dream. Maybe had had finally lost it. But a quick look back through the hole confirmed that no...they really were there. He put a hand in his pocket, chewing heavily on his bottom lip- a habit that hadn't started until the past few hours.

When the phone rang, Capa jerked back slightly, shaking his head. Now he was certain that this wasn't real. It was a dream. One of Arthur's dreams, maybe, only this one...he couldn't escape from. A kick wouldn't send him out of it.

"Don't answer it." He didn't know why, but it just didn't seem like a good idea.

[batmanschmatman]

"Good call," Dick said softly, staring at the phone before continuing to just suspiciously regard the room. He really did not buy that they were out of the woods just yet. "Who puts a phone in a place like this outside of a Dean Koontz novel?"

The stirring was getting louder, and honestly, the noises sounded familiar, but he couldn't really place why. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his hand tightened around the phaser, waiting, trying to place what it sounded like. Maybe the fatigue was starting to get to him, maybe he was just hallucinating, but he suddenly felt like he was stuck in a sewer waiting for Killer Croc to burst out of no where, and all he could hear instead of the criminal was-

"Do you guys hear rats?"

[metallonkardia]

John has no idea what rats are supposed to sound like (squeaking?) but he moves further into the room, eying the phone but not touching it. The ringing noise, after so many hours (days?) of just their voices and the groaning of the ship, is like nails on chalkboard in his head. He tries the door, not actually expecting it to open - it's locked solid, and yanking on it proves the door is well and truly sealed.

Guess they'll have to cut through it. "Can you plug up that hole?" You know, in case there are rats. Whatever rats would do, anyway. He goes after the hinges with the laser cutter first.

The phone stops ringing, and for a tense moment, they're plunged into silence. John glances over his shoulder, expecting something worse to replace it, then - another noise, like a mid-90s answering machine picking up, and though there's no speakers or any source for it, a shrill, synthetic voice echoes through the room:

"Your friends are all dead."

The laser cutter sputters, fails to sever anything, and snaps in half in his hand.

[ourlastbesthope]

Capa actually stopped breathing once the phone's ringing ceased. He didn't know what rats were supposed to sound like, either, but that wasn't what he was worried about. He turned around and tried to anchor what they had cut away against the hole, but the sound of the voice and then the laser cutter stopped him and he turned around, standing up quickly. A little too quickly, as the room spun a bit around him. He shuddered, glancing into the hallway again.

But that wasn't what caught his eye. "'You have already failed them.'" He read the words aloud that appeared on the walls around them in spidery writing. Straight out of a horror film. He turned in a slow circle, looking at all the walls.

"Please tell me that you both are seeing this..."

[batmanschmatman]

Dick was quiet, expression stony and focused, falling back behind training and conditioning to hide just how creeped out he was. Every muscle was tense, and he realized he was rooted in place, watching the words scrawl across the walls. Some of it was nonsense - it's raining it's pouring the old man is snoring? - and then it added, without a break, just casually scrawling across the wall:

Timothy Drake died today, died today, died today

Dick gasped softly. It felt like the floor had fallen out from underneath him. All he could do was stare, wide eyed, open mouthed, feeling suddenly cold, rage and despair fighting against each other to leave him just standing still, staring at the words.

"No."

"He was screaming for you, Richard."

The voice was the same, but there was almost something... happy about it. Amused. Dick couldn't move, hand clenched hard enough around the phaser that it hurt, the fingers of his other hand digging into the palm of his glove.

[metallonkardia]

His hand stings, the backlash of the power overload nearly burning him, and John shakes his hand out, wincing. It's a miracle their equipment had all lasted as long as it had, true, but this still isn't great. He looks over to Capa, intent on asking after what he's got, but instead he catches the other man's question. Then he hears Dick behind them, uttering one word quietly.

... Okay.

"Ignore it," he says firmly, sounding more grounded than he really is. When he looks back to the door, there's small, hand-scratched writing on the steel surface.

Katie doesn't make it.

He stares, something cold settling over him like a snap. But more words are already appearing.

The baby's already dead in her.

At that John flinches, genuine fear gripping him, a sensation he hasn't felt in years. He's not told anyone about Kate's pregnancy except Sarah - he kept dead silent about it even when negotiation his term for coming on the barge - and it throws him in a way he never anticipated out of this trip

[ourlastbesthope]

Capa shoved both hands in his pockets, trying to make himself as small of a target as he could. He didn't have anything for him. Nothing written for him. Nothing- he sucked in a breath, barely hearing the phone ringing over the sound of roaring in his ears. The handwriting was her name. His sister and her two children.

Frozen, frozen, frozen forever.

"It's not true," he muttered softly, as if that would give him strength.

Capa finally heard the ringing as it began to seep into his brain. He stalked over to the phone and picked up the receiver before slamming it back down onto the cradle. A bit more forcefully than he had intended, but he wanted it to stop. A vicious laughter came from the speakers or whatever was there and Capa looked pained, looking to Dick and then John.

"We have to find that key. He wouldn't have put the lock there if he didn't intend for there to be some way to get to the key." Capa was just grasping at straws, but it was easier than reading any more of it.

[batmanschmatman]

As messed up as it was - because there were similarities, but he wasn't Bruce, dammit, and he knew it - John's order to ignore it was enough to snap Dick out of it. He responded to the voice before he was even consciously aware he was doing it. He tore his gaze away from the walls, forcing himself to bury the worry, the images of Tim hurt and wanting him to come save him, all of it, and focus on the task at hand.

He watched Capa slam down the phone, glad he stopped the ringing even as the laughter echoed around them.

"This - all of this - is just Flagg. He's trying to throw us off." He glanced back at the door for a moment. "Maybe-"

But whatever was coming to find them had finally arrived, and Dick turned around, staring. He'd been right. And right now, he really wished he wasn't.

"Maybe they know where it is."

Rats. A swarm of rats.

This was going to be interesting.