revivalproject | [Event] Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

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[Event] Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

WHO: ALL HE ROWS PRESENT
WHERE: Calibrations Area
WHAT: Mingle log for literally anything you'd like to take place in the waiting room between sleep cycles during the event
WHEN: June 10th to July 10th
WARNINGS: Please mark individual threads with warnings
NOTES: If you have any questions, please go Here

An Agrii, or what may have been an Agrii, led you here, and now you can't get out. From the moment one steps through the door into Calibrations there is no going back. Luck, good or bad, even prevents people from being in the entrance way when another He Row arrives, meaning there's no slipping out to be hoped for. This is because Calibrations at their core keep you from going out and seeing the world, keep you from doing much but exploring the space and interacting with your fellow trapped He Rows. This wouldn't be much of a problem if there was a lot to do in the lengthy hours between the compulsion to sleep. At least there is some modicum of comfort offered to those who were tricked into this timed trap.

Some might find the area familiar, having haunted these halls before. Upon entry one walks down a large hallway before it opens into an even larger waiting room with chairs, tables, and the same food dispensers available in the ships, save that it lacks any Red Fruit Drink. It's a shame, actually, the alcohol might help you get through things, and since there was no warning this time, the dispensers are likely the only source of food available. There is more than enough to feed everyone, even to the point of being overstuffed at every meal. At least there are those small favors.

There are also communal bathrooms - one men and one for women though nothing would stop a person from using whichever they desire - with several toilet stalls and shower stalls in each, including basic shampoo and soap dispensers. All of the dispensers put out a liquid that smells like motor oil for some reason. The water in the showers is pleasantly warm and just perfect for getting clean. Well, it is for good little boys and girls who don't blow up buildings. Given that sort of comfortable temperature hasn't been available in past sessions, it's a real relief.

Branching off of the main waiting room are hallways that lead to a number of bedrooms. The door of each bares a nameplate on it, imprinted with the name of a He Row. Those who are returning here won't find their name plate in the same place it was previously, which might be frustrating in its own right. The doors aren't locked though, and anyone can enter any other room or share with anyone else if they wish to. Each room has a single, simply made queen-sized bed, and a set of drawers. The drawers have a white jumpsuit in the size of the He Row whose name was on the door, as well as a pair of equally white canvas shoes. It's kind of your captors to offer you clothes, and for a change there will be new ones available to you this time through, replacements appearing once every week. You can wear them or ignore them as you like.

Greater pity has been offered this time than before for the He Rows, offering a variety of things to do in the downtime. Given most of what He Rows may have been able to grab and bring with them for their 'escape' may not be much good for entertainment, it's helpful to have even the little things. Shelves are available in the large waiting room, filled with boxes and containers. There are pictures on each box, brightly colored and then defaced with Agrii smilie art, showing all sorts of aliens having fun with games.

Sadly the games are not written in a language anyone knows. Luckily the Communications datapoint is working right this time, and it's possible to translate the instructions for a change, letting people play things with all the fun you need. Unfortunately this year there are pieces missing. Because of course nothing can ever be easy. The only thing that is fully intact is that solid gray puzzle and of course, Monopoly Longest Game Ever. There's even paper and pencils and crayons! It's like the Calibrations area was upgraded just for you!

In fact, you don't have to rely on just the board games to keep you occupied this year. In addition to them, the food, getting to know each other, and probably building forts out of all the beds, there's one big plus offered to everyone: arts and crafts! That paper and those crayons aren't the only thing. There's containers of water based paint, there are brushes and canvases, there's even clay for modeling and glue for pasting paper together if you decide to cut some up. No scissors or knives though. But maybe you can spend some time beautifying your mostly white surroundings. Or maybe committing some graffiti in your frustration. Anything to pass the time.

You can opt to spend time in your room or in the larger, common waiting room. But about every twenty-two hours, all people suddenly feel a compulsion to sleep. Once this starts, you can’t fight it off. You find yourself going into your room for bed or wherever else you feel like you’d prefer to sleep. And then, inevitably, you close your eyes and dream.

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Don't mind Tommy, fresh out of a fucking steaming hot shower, still in the jeans and t-shirt he'd shown up in, a towel draped around his neck. He pauses by the table to collect a fallen paper and put it on the table.

"Evil fucking looking crab there," he notes before continuing on toward a protein paste dispenser."

"Mind flayer," comes the very quick correction. Billy's hand stills with the crayon in it. At least Tommy smells like a garage, which puts him a bit at ease. Seemingly unlike everyone else, Billy actually enjoys his showers because he likes that sort of smell. Something that reminds him of his home. (The good parts of home anyways, which are very few).

He snatches the paper Tommy sets down, before crumpling it up and throwing it. Billy doesn't even care where it goes or if it hits someone. He's frustrated and has a lot of pent of energy he's trying to get rid of. By coloring like a God damn preschooler.

Huh. Weird creature name.

If he was faster he would go and grab the paper out of the air the moment the guy threw it. As it is Tommy doesn't see it coming and the paper hits the back of his head. He sighs and turns around to pick it up. And of course being who he is, he tosses it at Billy's head to bounce it back.

So worth it.

It's what Max called it, and it was fitting so Billy went with it. He sticks his tongue out when he sees his paper hitting the other before going back to drawing.

Only to have the favor returned, with the paper bouncing off of his curls. It's the paper with the black veins all over. He had seen them in the mirror, in any reflection really, even when he wasn't the one in charge of his body.

The paper bounces to the floor and the crayon snaps in his hand. It's all too much, being trapped in this place, and the chair scrapes against the floor as he springs to his feet. It teeters and falls over. "Why is everyone in this fucking bunker so annoying and shitty?!?!" he yells, unable to help himself. His short fuse was nearing its end, ready for Billy to blow.

And look at that, here's a semi-fit dude with all the physical build that screams jock, all the easy confidence of a totally fake smirk curling his lips, and what is undeniably nurse Billy's face but with green eyes and pure white hair looking absolutely unimpressed with the anger.

He's seen bigger and badder. The yelling isn't impressive.

"You threw first. And by all means, blow a fucking fuse. The Atroma would love it. Probably the point. Last time they trapped us here it was after someone tried to kill a guy. I bet they wanted to see if our stress would make us snap and hurt someone where the Agrii can't help us. Maybe you can solve that for them, a year late but hey, marks for trying."

The Atroma? Billy mentally wracks his brain trying to remember that name and sort of does. From that point in town after he arrived. Before Kaplan and Tae rescued him from dying by the fountain. The Californian starts pacing around the table, avoiding the other chairs that are still upright and sidestepping the one he knocked over.

"I want out of this fucking place!" he near-yells this time. Someone tried to kill another someone here last year? Great, fantastic. "One person fucks up so we're all fucking punished? What kind of hellhole is this place? This is worse than the shitstain of Hawkins!"

Billy wants California. Wants the beach and the sand and the sunsets that bathed the sky in rich colors. "I'm just supposed to sit in here in this timeout they've put us in?! I just wanted to go the hell home and I get stuck down here with the rest of you?!"

Still unimpressed over here. Tommy moves to get himself a bowl of chocolate paste and turns to watch the hissy fit.

“Oh, we’re being punished for shits and giggles I think. This is my third time here. The first time we were lied too, Agrii too. We thought we were sheltering from the worst storm ever. Last year we were tricked with illusions of people we love. This year, a promise of home.”

That was just how it went sometimes. And it sucked. Tommy knew it. He had claustrophobia and this place reminded him of super juvie. He’s only calm because he can’t manage the energy to be anything else.

“Go build a fort. Or tear up pillows. Or jerk off. Whatever distracts you when it isn’t arts and crafts time. And tell yourself how lucky you are. In juvie, no matter the sort, we never got the chance to do anything fun. All cells except when you’re fed or supposed to clean up. So really, it could be worse.”

Great. Fantastic news. After a month of having his head invaded and body controlled, now the aliens here are fucking with him too. Billy flexes his hands in and out of fists, watching Tommy whenever he passes him by in his pacing.

"Fuck your juvie. I'll take that over the month I had taking a backseat in my own brain. Having a shadow take over your body and make you murder people is what I would consider worse than jail." He wants to give the so called Atroma what they want - he wants to grab Tommy by his shirt, slam him against the wall, and make an indent the shape of his fist in the guy's face. Maybe his nose, but the cheek would be better.

Billy reaches down and scratches at his skin where he knew those black veins had once been on him, crawling over him like a damn infection that had no cure. Maybe he was just literally itching for a fight.

Ah. Mind control. Tommy nods like he gets it. He sort of does. Superheroes deal with weird shit.

"I won't bet one way or another on what I went through and what you did. Both were massively fucked up, that's clear. You're not the first we've had through here like that, but I'm still sorry for it, man."

Still he gets why being angry in here doesn't help. He's got two years of experience. But...

"I know something that would help get the anxiety down to a bit more manageable. Not cured. Trust me I'm low key anxious the whole time I'm here. But it's better than murdering crayons or starting shit with someone that, depending on the someone, you won't be able to finish."

Not him. Tommy knows he relies on his powers too much to stand up against most people depowered.

Billy half-expected for Tommy to fall into the trap of a pissing contest, to really help goad the Californian's temper more than it was so he'd have a reason to lash out physically. But he doesn't and it sounds like...sympathy? Or maybe that was empathy. Either one, Billy's not expecting. That at least gets him to pause in his moat-making around the table.

Judging by the bruise that's only started to fade on his cheek, Billy's already gotten into it with someone - either right before or after ending up here in the bunker. "The fuck could you possibly suggest to do down here? And at least starting shit with someone would give me something to do, and maybe make the sleeping part worthwhile while trapped down here."

"Simple," he says with a smirk. "We break shit. Grab a chair and follow me."

There are plenty of things to break that aren't people. And more ways to be a hero than just saving lives or feeding people Preventing bodily harm is one of them.

Besides, he has some redecorating to do.

God that smirk just makes him want to smash Tommy's face in even more. Almost like it was some sort of challenge. But he doesn't, and instead grabs that tipped over chair before following Tommy.

Maybe he could break this chair down and add it to his 'weight' drawer. Give him something new to bench in his room. As long as that stupid elf kid doesn't let himself in without knocking. Again.

Nah, Link did that. Tommy actually liked that about him. Dude was fucking refreshing.

He leads them through the halls to the rooms and to the door labeled with his name. His full name. Tommy continues to hate that detail. Then he pushes it open.

"The dressers seem to manifest new clothes for us. I'd love to see if reducing it to kindling will prevent that."

White scrubs or jump suits are too traumatic thanks. Less of them.

"Willing to see if you've got some property destruction in you?"

He gestures briefly at the guy's arms.

"Seems like you do. Or I suppose I could ask Link or Gladio."

Yeah that was a targeted challenge there. Tommy knew that in this dude's place there would be nothing like a suggestion of not being able to manage where others could to make him go at the task.

If he sees the name, Billy doesn't comment on it. Easier to just focus on Tommy's room that's just a different version of his own. Billy's ignored his own jumpsuits, preferring to just continue wearing the clothes he already has. He's attentive to what Tommy's getting at, and scoffs at the idea of getting the other two to do it.

"Fuck you, I can do it." He pushes past Tommy hard, intentionally trying to knock him aside to get to the dresser. One of the drawers gets yanked out and tossed to the side easily, not caring if there's still clothing or not in it. "The whole thing or just the drawers?"

Billy tries the whole hard mass shit and Tommy dodges aside at the last moment with some residual echo of speedster grace. Dude's as easy to guide as any other tough in juvie.

"Whole ass thing. If you think you can."

Keep needling to keep him focused. This surely won't backfire.

Easy to guide, but at least this'll work out some of that angry energy. Well, hopefully. Billy knows after talking with Harrington and Munson that he's gotta be on better behavior, but being in the bunker isn't going to be that starting point. If what Tommy said was true, being trapped down here was basically their captors goading them into turning on each other.

Fuck.

These aliens are right up there with Neil at this point.

Billy wants a cigarette. They're in the hotel, because thinking he was going home, knowing what waits there, he wouldn't need them.

"Shut the hell up, I can do it. I bench more weight than you," comes the response. Instead of just going ham on the drawer he's pulled out, he sets it down and squats to get a better look at it. Sure, Tommy wanted him to destroy it, but there's got to be a way it's put together, right? He pushes at some of the seams to see what kind of give they've got, then pulls the chair he brought over to test it's durability.

"Stuff's better made it looks like than where I'm from." Already focusing his energy on something else, something he gets to break, is helping. Satisfied with looking it over, Billy stands back up and gets to work. Starting with his feet, since they were at least covered by his boots.

"And I can lift a motorcycle with my amazing legs without sweating, but that doesn't really tell anyone how much practical skill with breaking dressers you have."

As for Tommy, he flops down onto the bed to watch. Because he has to be ready to wrangle if the dude gets wound up in the wrong way again. After all, dude could do off on his brother.

"I'm Tommy, by the way."

Billy makes a scoffing noise. "A Power Wheel's trike isn't much of anything to boast about lifting." He works at the drawer until with a crack it splits and his foot crashes through it. There's a triumphant laugh that falls from his lips.

With that one side broken, the other sections don't take terribly long to meet the same fate. "Billy," the name is finally dropped for Tommy, while the blond makes a pile of the wood. "Do you want me to save some for the others who you claim can do this, or have me do all of it?"

Because he looks ready to smash the rest of it, but he's at least giving Tommy the option.

"Which is why I press kitted out Harleys," Tommy counters with a smirk. He's got ego when it comes to his legs.

Though he freezes for a moment at the name Billy.

"You can do as much as your heart desires," Tommy says as he eats his protein paste on the bed. "But we're doing something about that name. How about Will?"

Kid's got ego, and Billy can't even remark on it because Billy knows he has one. His looks actually match that ego though and he knows it. With the wood in a satisfactory pile, he's about to start on the next drawer when Tommy mentions a name to call him.

He stops. Even with the therapeutic drawer smashing, the flames of his mental ire blaze hot again. He hates that name. Billy whirls and crosses the room quick, fists grabbing into Tommy's clothes to haul and slam him against the wall.

"You fucking listen here." His voice is low and soft, but filled with threat. "Don't you ever call me that name. No one calls me that." Even his missing mother didn't call him that. The only one who did only called him that when he was in deep shit.

"Got that, Tommy?"

Tommy's looks more than match his ego. He's had that reinforced the world over before David. But he knows the ego that goes with that. Some people are beautiful and don't know it like his twin. Some are beautiful and can never let it go to their heads like Teddy. But this guy is like Tommy. The beauty might be all he has going for him.

Makes some people angry and mean.

He can see the mean now though. And... he knows that fury. Sure he is going to be a pest over his bed now being a mess, and he wants to give as good as he's getting. But he knows that very specific type of wild, threatening anger.

"I'm the same way with Thomas. So we'll agree those are off limits, on punishment of displays of the sort of aggression that go with whoever called us those," Tommy says, his voice level and his eyes dancing with their own anger. He hates being pinned. "But I'm sorry, I can't call you Billy. Because you sure as hell aren't my twin brother. He doesn't have then muscles. Or the guts to grow his hair out and let the curls flow."

Billy feels like a storm caged up, beating at the bars to break lose to lay out his fury physically. He still holds Tommy against the wall, but not as hard. The bright blue eyes keep a lock on those very green ones. "No Will, or William, and no Thomas." An agreement. He'd been making truces like these more often since coming into the city.

Then he's letting go of Tommy, not caring if the guy finds his feet back under him or not. Billy goes back to the drawers to start the smashing again. "You can call me Hargrove then. It's my last name. Met your brother already I think. He and another doctor bitch patched me back up when I got into town."

An agreement indeed.

"His boss isn't so bad," Tommy shrugs off, getting his balance. But that doesn't work.

"So, Curls, the breaking help? I know I used to get angry like that."

Billy's back is to Tommy, too busy smashing through another drawer with his foot before tearing the joints apart and throwing them to the pile. Smaller pieces of wood fly from the impact. He doesn't care.

"If it keeps me from seeing if I can get your skull through the wall, then yes. It's working." Yep, still irritated, but at least he's taking it out on something not alive. "And it was the whole dresser you wanted torn apart, right?"

"I wouldn't suggest trying. Walls are concrete, and then you'd just get on Billy's bad side. Speaking from experience, it's better not to piss odd electrokinetics."

He knows it from experience. He's got a scar from it, from his own twin.

"Whole damn thing. I hate the clothes they give us," he says with a shrug. But now he's sighing and regarding the bed. "Any chance you aren't using your own bed here? My sheets are a mess."

[Event] Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

Cold As Ice

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Re: Cold As Ice

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