(no subject)

[beforeblue]

Who: Wash and you :D
Where: All over Wonderland
When: The Duration of the event
Rating: R for violence and trauma and language, I guess?
Summary: Wash during the event. Because he just can't stay quietly on the outside of the action.
The Story:

08/28
First zombies now what? There's whispers in the corridors and some... frankly pretty creepy symbols marked around the mansion. Hydra? Not an organisation he's ever heard of but they sound like fucking creepers as it is. Another Insurrection and he's fought too many of them to feel much sympathy. He'd ignore it but then things start getting violent. people start disappearing and returning and yeah... This is not a good situation.

08/29 - 09/01
In a lot of ways, this is actually a relief. Combat, warfare, this is stuff that he knows how to deal with. There's enough people willing to liase, to work together to stop the kidnappings. Some of them are pretty persistent. He thinks that he has it easier than most. He's not been here long enough to make any real connections. It's easier for him to drop people without flinching. He still has to pull his punches where normally he'd just take them out. Has to remind himself that these aren't his enemies. They're just being manipulated by the mansion.

He can't sleep. Too wired to settle down even for a catnap. How can he when most of the people here are civilians. They're not made for combat like this. And that's what gets him in the end.

He wakes strapped down to a chair, to needles and drugs and they're in his head and Epsilon, Epsilon, shrieking and unspooling in his head because he's supposed to be dead dead dead they killed him their plan killed him so how is he alive? And they'd lied the man they admire and the man who they are had lied to them and fractured them and Allison don't say goodbye they'd lost her, lost all of them and I hate goodbyes.

It's waking up in Recovery all over again, his head ripped open and the bleeding marks at the back of his neck where he'd tried to get it out. He's still himself though. No, not really. He's... He's alive. Not Hydra. Maybe that's the best he can hope for.

Comments

08/28

[oversight]

There isn't the same sense of awareness around the mansion that John expects to run into on a daily basis, and he can't help but wonder if that's because there's something more going on.

As a HYDRA agent, he's trained to look for anomalies, and probably trained to do that anonymously, but there's a lingering uncertainty that causes his mask to slip for just a moment. He sneers, momentarily perturbed by the appearance of HYDRA imagery. "Sloppy." A mutter. He tears it down the logo and it's likely the glance around to make sure he wasn't noticed that really gives him away more than the utterance of disdain.

He figures he's alone, but he's wrong. Wrong enough that he comes face to face with Agent Washington as he turns to leave.

"'Scuse me, there." It's said as if there's nothing else to be addressed.

Re: 08/28

[beforeblue]

The trouble is, Wash hasn't had to cook for himself since he was eighteen and he joined the military. And before that there hadn't been a whole lot of cooking himself either. Oh, he can heat MREs, but that is about the extent of his culinary skills, which means frequent trips to the mess here. The dining room. Because he is not fucking subsisting on MREs while he is here and there is real food.

Which is why he's noticed these symbols appearing around the place. Sloppily drawn on the walls, pinned up. Reminds him of the Insurrectionist bases.

And then there's this guy Wash spots on his way down to get food. Wash spoke to him on the network, he knows that. But there's that muttered curse, the furtive look. "If you're trying to hide those things, you've got your work cut out for you."

[oversight]

Blake glances up and shakes his head. "They're an abomination." It's a half-lie. Their appearance is what he takes exception to, and he has no trouble seeing what a bad idea it is. "Who the hell's puttin' them all 'round this place?" John asks. He hasn't placed a single emblem by his own hand, but someone's proudly presenting HYDRA and boy would he love to get his hands around their neck for their negligence.

"Do me a favor an' let me know if you figure it out." He doesn't suspect this guy will do that, but it doesn't hurt to cover his ass a little more. There's no reason to believe he's HYDRA, after all. Even if the disappointment he'd expressed had been oddly pointed.

[beforeblue]

That's kind of... vehement, for a few bits of vandalism. "What even is it? Some kind of Octopus thing?" With a skull for a head. Well, he's seen weirder military insignias. This one is just creepy though.

"Take it this is something you know from your world?" Unless he just really hates octopi. Or graffiti. Maybe both.

[oversight]

"Yeah, it is. It's... considered to be an omen." He's not lying, not that he has any qualms about saying what he has to. "People adopt it without knowin' it's history. You know what they say: Put an octopus on it and anyone'll buy."

John pushes his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall nearby. He'd like to beat a hasty retreat from this line of questioning, but walking away not will only increase Agent Washington's suspicion.

[beforeblue]

"...I have never heard that said before." Blake's world must be pretty weird. What, do they have octopi instead of kittens or something?

He pauses a moment, mulling over the design. "Looks more like a military insignia. The ODSTs have skulls as part of theirs for one."

[oversight]

Blake tilts his head slightly as if trying to see what Washington sees. It's a good assessment and he respects that, but John has reason to suspect there's more tension here than either of them are letting on, so he tries to shift their conversation a hair.

"You think? Not sure I could see that on a uniform." There's a short pause and then John shrugs. "There'd have to be water involved, right? For the fish thing to work. Navy?"

[beforeblue]

"I've spent a lot of time in the military. You see a lot of crazy insignias." Skulls were just one small element. He turned away from it and leans back against the wall, looking at the other man. "Navy covers space too. I mean, I'm a marine so..."

[oversight]

This is news to Blake. Or he's good at pretending. "Space, wow. That's advanced." Not really, but HYDRA has kept most of their secrets for decades and he's not about to start chit-chatting about closed files just because he finds it interesting.

"How much time's a lotta time?" He looks over Washington approvingly, all the while wondering just what it's going to take to get this guy on his side.

Casually, John pulls his phone from his pocket and looks over his messages. He could potentially reach out to one of the others while they have this conversation.

[beforeblue]

"Getting that impression considering the reactions I get here." Really, everyone was fascinated by the idea of space colonies and travel and for him? It was his life. And sometimes it also really sucked.

He tilts his head; a look like that isn't quite what he was expecting. "Since I was old enough to enlist. Right out of school." He'd been so desperate to get off the colony he'd been born on. To get away from home. He'd never looked back.

[oversight]

Blake can understand ambitions like that, so he nods somewhat approvingly. He's getting something more from this guy, thus far he feels they've successfully managed to avoid excess suspicion.

"And what drew you to that life?" Parents? Friends? War? No one decides to sign up just to escape (unless maybe they're Luke Skywalker or something). "Personal ambitions aside, I mean. What did you believe you were fighting for?"

[beforeblue]

The approving nod grates on him. He feels like he's being sized up and he's been through enough of that just to get into the project. His posture stiffens a little, though he's still mostly relaxed.

He blinks at the question, frowns. It's weird having to explain stuff like that. "To stop the human race being driven to extinction by the fucking Covvies. It's a pretty good motivator."

[oversight]

"Survival is a huge motivator," John agrees. He senses tension, but he doesn't think there's anything particularly alarming about his sentiment. Nevertheless, there's certainly an impression that this conversation could take a southernly turn at any moment.

"Find myself thinkin' 'bout survival a lot more these days," he says. He didn't have nearly the same amount of problems back home as he does here in Wonderland, and that's mostly because his hands are tied.

[disassembles]

It would make more sense to kill them. He's been told that, he understands where it comes from. It would be easier for him, too. Efficient. But James has killed a lot of people for HYDRA over the years, and he isn't about to continue while he still has his own free will.

The problem is, that's not a choice he always gets to make. The technician lays lifeless on the floor, neck broken, and he feels almost nothing but a grim understanding of the necessity. The control panel beside him has a fist-sized hole punched through it, and the chair where the man is restrained is nothing but an extravagant hunk of metal now.

James lifts the head piece off, ignoring the protesting groan of metal. It's Wash. He looks out of it, and James doesn't know if he's been hit long enough for anything to take hold. He wants to rip out the rest of the restraints, but he knows better. He puts himself in Wash's line of sight, trying to make eye contact.

He ignores the sick lurch in his stomach. This is how Pierce spoke to him, usually, but there had been a reason for that.

"Talk to me, soldier." The words are sharp, not unkind. "Do you know what your name is?"

[beforeblue]

There's a dazed look on his face, gaze lost like he's staring at something a very long way away. It barely registers when the thing around his head is removed, when everything in his head is screaming at him. Epsilon unspooling in his head all over again, memories and memories until he can't think, can't figure out which are his and which are theirs and who is he anyway?

His head lolls and finally his gaze settles on the man in front of him. Riffles through his mental catalogue of names and face and there's too much, he can't- can't find anything.

He opens his mouth to reply, of course he does, it's DavidAlphaDirectorChurchEpsilonWashington a rush of memories and names and he's trying to find the right one, the one that fits but that's impossible when he doesn't remember who he is. Bucky gets a panicked look. "I- I need to-"

[disassembles]

He doesn't allow his expression to change. The last thing Wash needs is to see what he's thinking in that moment, watching someone else's face play out a too-familiar confusion. Sometimes touch helped, as a grounding. Pierce would slap him, or grab his jaw - whatever was most convenient to help him focus.

James has just killed someone with his bare hands, and he can't bring himself to so much as lay a finger on Wash.

"Take a deep breath," He replies, trying to hold Wash's gaze. "You're alright. Focus."

[beforeblue]

It's hard to focus. Keeps seeing other faces instead of the one that's there. Where's North? He'd been here hadn't he? No, that wasn't here. That was... harsh lights, the flow of code and no, not again. He just needed more time, a little more time they couldn't be dead he'd killed them again and again and-

His head lolls for a moment before the words register and then he drags himself back up to look at the man. He takes a breath. Takes another. Tries to force away the memories. It's hard when he can remember everything. Human minds were never supposed to remember like a computer, in perfect clarity. "My name is..." Wash, but Washington was dead, but they'd lied and lied and shattered them and- "Agent Washington. David. I'm David."

[disassembles]

"Thank God." James breathes out, relief flooding through him. That's the first good news he's had this entire damn event. The guy still looks confused, disoriented, but he wasn't too late.

It doesn't surprise him at all that Wash was a codename; that's pretty standard for a military guy in unknown territory.

James finds the seams in the metal restraints and rips them open, freeing up Wash's arms and legs. "Think you can walk, David? I need you to come with me before anyone else shows up."

[beforeblue]

It doesn't feel good. None of it feels good. For a moment the face in front of him blurs and he squints at him, trying to make it clear again. That strength when the cuffs are torn away, he can see the smashed screens, the devastation. "Maine? Is that you?" But Maine shouldn't be able to speak. Not with words.

And then he's free and his hands immediately go to the back of his neck, scratching and clawing at the port there. Epsilon. Out, he has to get it out. He can't do this again. He can't. Epsilon is dying, killing itself and they're breaking him apart and he can't stop it.

[disassembles]

"Hey, hey - don't do that." James does grab him then, dragging his wrists back in front of him and holding them just tightly enough to keep him from clawing at himself. "Listen. We need to leave. You can walk, or I can knock you out and carry you, okay?"

If David stays nonsensical, he's not going to have much of a choice. It's not the guy's fault, but his priority is getting him out of this damn room before HYDRA comes back to finish.

[beforeblue]

He doesn't resist when his wrists ad grabbed, just looks up at the person holding him. He's been manhandled enough by the medical staff recently. Usually doesn't last long. No screaming this time. "I need it to stop. Epsilon. It's in my head and..."

No, no that wasn't here, that was back there, the Director had ordered it and they'd put it in his head and now he remembered too much.

"I can walk," he grinds out. He can walk, he can take care of himself. He's not helpless. He won't be helpless again.

[disassembles]

"Okay. We're going somewhere safe. No more scratching - got it?"

He'll remember to ask about Epsilon later, but right now they need to leave. He pulls David to his feet, then lets go of his wrists. "Come on, just down the hall."

There's something to be said for the convenience of being able to turn any empty room into a save spot on short notice, and HYDRA is less likely to look right under their noses.

[beforeblue]

"Got it." Orders. Orders he could do. They were easy. A clear bright line to follow, and all of them, Wash and Epsilon and Alpha, know how to do that. Even if he's the only one. The only one left and orders had fractured them and... He nods sharply, clenches his hands into fists for a moment before forcing himself to relax. His legs feel unsteady when Bucky pulls him up, but it's just in his head. It's all in his head. He's been shot before, and stabbed, and run over. He can damn well walk now.

It feels like they move painfully slowly. Can't tell if the noise in his head is the shadows or a real threat. Hates relying on other people so much. Hates feeling like the rookie they call him.

"Thanks," he says, quietly as they reach the room.

[disassembles]

He keeps David in his line of vision, and not just because he's concerned that he might collapse. He's had his brain scrambled not that long ago, and James knows all too well how that goes. Even if David has no real reason to attack him, it doesn't mean that he isn't going to try in his current state.

He lets David into the safe room first and locks up behind them. "Don't thank me, this is my event. I owe you."

He heads for the closet first and pulls out a couple bottles of water and some energy bars.

"Catch," He tosses a bottle of water for David. He wants to see his reaction time and reflexes. The rest, he brings over to dump on the coffee table. "You're gonna have one hell of a headache later if you don't eat."

[beforeblue]

Wash watches him as he moves around the room, wary even if he's just been rescued. Can't trust his own head, his own instincts. The people he trusts... trusted? They've done terrible things. How can he trust a stranger?

"It came out of your head." He remembers that much even if the rest is confused and twisted.Come out of his head like the scenarios they'd plotted for Alpha. Testing him to breaking point. No, torturing him.

He catches the bottle, but only just, fumbling it badly. Just catching it is kind of a miracle right now. "I've had worse." The first flare of Epsilon through his head. He can't imagine a worse pain. He's not going to refuse food though.