entrancelogs | it's an obsession, man on a mission

Entry tags:

it's an obsession, man on a mission

Who: Victor Frankenstein (

lifeskills) and Steve Rogers (

assembles)
Where: Research facility at the station.
When: Backdated to May 17th.
Rating: PG-13 for brains.
Summary: Science, though. So much science. Captain Killjoy interrupts the science.
The Story:

_{[Victor's never seen the likes of the research station before, but that just makes it all the more interesting. The message left by people he will never meet (What have we done?) stirs a need to know more about their purpose. What had they done? What had they been researching in this sprawling underground shelter?

Unthinkingly, he finds himself throwing hours a way looking over the scant remains of the station's equipment and specimens, building a picture for himself with what clues he can drum up.

It's something he can do. Forward progress. A necessary diversion. Also, maybe, a little to do with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, a need to understand why this memory exists and what had happened here, to accomplish something before the inevitable happens and the Monster catches up with him. There's no running from what's always with you, the shadow at your side; the Monster will find him eventually. He can feel him near, a pressure, a presence.

The sense of their impending collision drives him to distract his frantic mind. A spur of the moment decision brings the doctor back to the research area. In those jars, preserved brain specimens.

He doesn't have a fully-functioning lab for the job, but if he could just... It's not as though there aren't more samples to spare...

Double-checking the door is shut fast, Victor gives into his temptation, transferring the brain from its fluid prison to a tray with the help of tools he'd scrounged up. He feels more at home like this than he has in three days. If he's going to die, or go hungry, or sleep without a bed, he might as well do something meaningful.]}

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[It's hunger the drives Steve from the room that he had claimed for himself, tucked away in a corner but easily defensible. He doesn't require much for comfort when it comes to the cold, not needing any blankets or extra layers to keep himself from freezing. He can sleep just about anywhere if he needs to too, although today rest hasn't been coming easily.

How can he just curl up somewhere and sleep when he knows that there are people out there who want his head? The enemy is somewhere in this facility, lying in wait for him to make a misstep so that they can strike. It's why he's so reluctant to put himself out in the open like this.

Still, the one thing that his body doesn't handle well is hunger, and his food stores ran out twelve hours ago. He needs to find another vending machine, or -- something.

He's got his radio clutched tight in one hand as he makes his way through the series of hallways and empty rooms. He's searched a good portion of the facility by now, but not all of it, and he has to hope that there are some supplies scattered around that haven't yet been pilfered.

Steve finds a closed door, one that he doesn't remember from his earlier searching, and so he opens it up, expecting it to be vacant like all the others. But inside is a man, a man he's spoken to once before. Victor Beaufort, a man of science, a man he'd had a civil enough conversation with before except that now he is handling a brain and with Steve's primary thought revolving around hunger, his own brain goes in a strange direction.

Is he planning to eat it? Is this a Hannibal situation all over again?

Steve stiffens in the doorway, expression pinched with distaste.] What are you doing?

_{[Victor had been lucky to avoid confrontation to the present day, aided by not staying too long in the company of others where he could be made a target... and perhaps also by not being afraid to linger in the more unsavory areas in the station. A lab wasn't all that friendly toward someone looking for a place to sleep or find food, but it was comforting in a familiar way to Victor.

He'd only just started looking the brain over for signs of physical abnormalities when the sound of the door spooks him. He hadn't thought anyone would come looking here at this time of day--

Is it him, finally? The Creature back for more blood?

Guiltily, he jumps off his stool, leaving his forceps aside. It's not his dark-haired, pale-faced nightmare come to exact his price, but his pulse still ramps up into a nervous staccato.]}

I-I was... nothing.

_{[His gaze darts from Steve, to the work table, to Steve again.]}

Nothing.

[The way that Victor practically leaps away from what he had been doing and stutters out an answer more or less has guilty written all over it. Steve raises an eyebrow, not impressed, although soon enough he's frowning with suspicion.

Arms crossed, he takes a few more steps toward Victor, his gaze continuing to linger on the brain matter he'd been so eager to pick apart.]

It doesn't look like nothing. Where did you find that?

[It may have just been sitting around on a shelf somewhere, this place is strange enough for it. But what if that's not what happened? What if Victor murdered someone and took their brain somehow?

Which is hardly a rational thought, but paranoia levels are running high now and Steve's not going to take any chances.]

_{[Confrontations of the mind have always been his realm, not confrontations of the body. Standing, the other man is tall and hale, outweighing Victor in muscle several times over. Agitation prickles over his skin. Steve has the advantage, he'd practically said as much--trained to be quick on his feet, and already blocking the door.]}

It's abandoned work. Whomever it belonged to, they're not here now.

_{[As excuses come to mind, his gaze flicks to the storage units where he'd first discovered the discarded experiments his first time looking through the area.]}

It's been left here, unlocked, unguarded, easily accessible to any of us. What difference does it make what's done with them now?

Did you ever stop to consider why it was abandoned?

[Steve has a complicated relationship with scientific experimentation. He's the result of it, after all, and he's seen others turn to it in desperation and come out of the process relatively intact.

But then there's people like Bucky, and the main difference is that some scientists and researchers never asked themselves if they should do something, even if it was in their capability.

There's too much of a chance that could happen here now, with Victor.]

So why don't you leave it alone?

[Steve clenches his jaw and makes a motion with his hand, beckoning Victor away from the discarded brains.]

Would that reason change where we are or what's already been done?

_{[Victor's reply has an obstinate quality to it, challenging Steve to provide him some sound justification. He can't, of course.

It's none of his concern, besides, and as uneasy as Victor is with all of this, he's no easily intimidated fool.]}

I presume you came here for your own reasons. Leave me to mine and I'll show the same courtesy.

I came here looking for food. So that all of us have a chance of surviving here.

[They don't know how long this event is going to last. Most humans can make it through a few days without food, and the snow outside is some kind of water source, but Steve is still doing what he can to make sure those close to him are provided for.

Then there's Victor, who has decided to take this opportunity to poke around at a random brain. In what sane mind would that be a good idea?

Steve crosses his arms, not budging from his spot in the door despite Victor's request.]

This place looks like you could probably pick up a disease just from touching a doorknob, and you're deciding to play doctor?

_{[Of all the things to say...]}

I don't play at being a doctor, I am one. _{[Victor is easily nettled when his abilities are questioned; a layer of indignation settles over him, veiling the unease he'd given away when Steve had first entered.]} And I'm more well-equipped to say what is or what isn't hazardous than anyone else here. Though if I happen to die, that would be one less mouth to feed, wouldn't it?

_{[As if that should in any way end their disagreement. He looks away and blows out a breath.

Hunger and tiredness have brought a certain amount of irritability to the surface for him, as well, and he hasn't been meeting those needs as well as he should. Something in this place is bringing out the worst in him.

He'd rather not give into it. Perhaps a carrot will work better than the stick.]}

Go right when you leave, then right again, then your first left. I may have seen some rations inside the room you'll find. I didn't take any. I don't need as much as someone of your considerable girth likely does.

_{[Was that a size joke? Victor will take the answer to his skinny white boy grave.]}

Edited 2015-06-10 00:44 (UTC)

[Steve had figured that Victor would bristle at having his skills called into question, and that had been his intention with his word choice. He isn't usually this outwardly hostile, but he's frustrated that Victor is worsening the situation when the rest of them are struggling to survive.

Still, he isn't here to wish death on Victor, and he isn't that easily swayed by the promise of easy-to-find food either. That is his ultimate goal, but Victor's refusal to feed himself seems like a bigger issue right now.

Victor may be a good scientist, but it's the talented scientists who end up too ambitious, whose creations and ideas backfire on them in the worst possible way. Stark and Banner had learned that lesson yet again with Ultron.]

I don't want you to starve out here. [Steve relents slightly, bows his head and lets out a sigh.] I can bring you some food, but I really think you should leave that alone.

[Steve moves further into the room finally, squinting at the brain. It looks just like any regular human brain, as far as he can tell. Not that he's an expert.] What do you hope to find, anyway?

_{[If Steve had meant to press his buttons, it works. Victor finds himself annoyed at how easily he can be baited as much as at the other man for being in his way.]}

It doesn't matter now. _{[Rubbing his forehead, he repeats this sentiment with surety, and with greater confidence.]} You should leave me be for your own sake.

_{[Because he's coming. The Creature. Victor can feel his presence closing in like a clammy hand on the back of his neck. Steve will find more than just a work station in shambles and a scientist plying his trade in the hopes of warding off his demons if he stays; Victor can't protect him any more than he'd protected Van Helsing at the last.

Maybe a weapon of war could slay his creation. Maybe...

He almost fails to hear Steve's question, drawing himself back to the present with a bemused sort of look.]}

What? Answers, I suppose. A reason. There must be a reason, or our presence here seems a waste.

[So long as Steve is here to keep Victor distracted, he won't be poking at that brain. It's not a fullproof plan, since Steve's pretty sure that the moment he leaves the room Victor will go right back to it, but the fact remains that he's not done with this conversation yet.

Especially with that veiled threat. For your own sake, and it's the paranoia talking more than anything, but that implies that Victor believes harm will come to Steve if he stays here. Steve feels his spine straighten and has to shake off the sensation of hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention.

He's never one to cower away from an unveiled threat, let alone a veiled one, and he takes another commanding step toward Victor.] What's that supposed to mean?

[Much as Victor might want answers, or an explanation for why they're here, it's not even that complicated. He must have figured out how events work by now, but Steve decides to remind him just in case.]

There is no reason. This is based off of someone's memories, that's all. It's up to us to live through it.

_{[Why is the man still here? It means what it means, and he shouldn't have to explain.

He has to remind himself not to touch his neck or rub impatient fingers through his hair until he cleans his hands again. As grossly outmatched as he is if Steve should decide to close the distance all the way, he stays right where he is, holding ground between flinching and obstinately holding to his point.]}

It means how it sounds. _{[But he hedges, just a little.]} If your conscience is bothering you, you might do well to leave me and pretend you hadn't found me.

_{[He's reminded of his first meeting with Malcolm, Vanessa, and Ethan, how they'd pestered him until the moment they'd pulled back the sheet and given him the gift of the unknown.

But that had been different.]}

There is no life without remembering the past. Only those newly born into the world have the luxury of no past. _{[His voice softens for a quick moment, grows distant, but then he's back in the present once again, tone never wavering.]} This is real, until the moment it stops. Your fatigue is real. The work I could be doing if you'd stop interrupting me is real. Now you're just wasting both of our time.

[Steve's conscience really has nothing to do with it. As far as he's concerned, Victor has issued a threat, although that's counter-balanced by how hard he's trying to get Steve to leave. It makes Steve wonder why he's so set on that, why he needs to be left alone with a random brain sample of unknown origin.

Yeah, there's nothing fishy about this at all.

Maybe it has something to do with the past, given how Victor is waxing philosophical about it. Either way, Steve's mind is made up, that he's going to watch Victor for as long as he can to make sure he doesn't have some ill intent in mind for the rest of the people trapped here. He moves toward a rickety, rusted chair and takes a seat in it -- just a little surprised when it manages not to collapse under his weight.]

The fact that you're so eager to get me out of here only makes you look more suspicious.

[So no, he's not budging. Not just yet, anyway. He's let other people, like Hannibal, slip under his radar. That isn't going to happen again, and while the paranoia is feeding into all this, making Steve irrational where normally he would have probably taken the suggestion to leave (and fetched some food for Victor in the process), he isn't entirely aware of it.]

_{[Coming from Victor, humor usually has a dark and sarcastic bite to it, as it does now. He favors Steve with another flick of his eyebrows.]}

Here you are looming over me, and I'm the suspicious one?

_{[Well, at least the looming has stopped for now. In a show of rebellion, Victor reclaims his seat,too. Fine. Two can play at this game.]}

I already told you what you wanted to know, and you're of no use to me. What more do you want? Go away.

You're the one poking around at random brains, so yeah.

[Steve's only doing his job by making sure that Victor isn't going to somehow unleash something on the rest of the people trapped here.

So he's a little anxious around scientists, especially when they're doing experimentation. So what?

That next remark from Victor causes Steve to raise an eyebrow, his gaze growing sharp.] Of no use to you? Is that all you care about, how people can best serve you? [Because that sounds pretty creepy, especially in the current context.]

_{[For a minute, the dagger the American makes of his words resembles Caliban so closely that Victor feels his skin crawl again as if the demon were in the room, glaring at him with those disfigured eyes.

He stops in the middle of picking up his tools, then turns his head to favor Steve with a poker-faced expression. The sarcasm remains, however.]}

Which is it, are you here to debate principles, or are you here on a mission of altruism? Weren't you the one who said he was looking for supplies? And now you're doing nothing.

_{[He takes wasting his time more personally than the implication he's selfish. Victor doesn't pretend his skills are better spent foraging for food. He can best serve himself and others here, with a puzzle in front of him to unlock.]}

I don't think my priorities are the issue.

Edited 2015-06-28 06:45 (UTC)

[Steve doesn't see why he can't debate principles and be altruistic at the same time, but Victor does make a good point about this entire conversation sidetracking him in a serious way. His top priority should be making sure that the people he cares about are well-fed, not babysitting some mad scientist.

Still, this doesn't sit right with him, and so even though he stands from the chair, he isn't going to run off with his tail between his legs. Steve Rogers does not back down from a fight, even a non-physical one.]

You're right. I'm going to go look for food. I'll even grab you some on the way. But...

[And just like that, he marches over and takes the brain, tray and all. He doesn't trust Victor, so the only solution is to take the point of contention away from him. Steve will just have to dump it somewhere.]

This comes with me.

_{[Of course he's right, he knows he's right--

And because he unequivocally feels he knows better, he almost can't believe this American soldier has the temerity to overstep his bounds the way he does. Victor flinches back as the tray is pulled out from beneath his arms, mouth falling open to protest.

He's almost ready to stand up out of his seat again. To do what, he's not sure.]}

Has the stress addled your mind? What little of it comprehends what you're doing? You can't just take a specimen from a lab.

_{[More importantly, Victor isn't done with it yet.]}

Edited 2015-07-01 02:37 (UTC)

[It's for the best that Victor doesn't stand because that might be registered at a threat at the moment. Steve can tell that Victor isn't trained for battle, his physique alone gives that away, but he isn't quite in his right mind at the moment.

Which is something that Victor calls him out on, if in the sort of condescending way that gets right under Steve's skin.]

You call this a lab?

[What little equipment is left is rusted over. There's no light source, a fine layer of dust is on just about everything, and if Victor thinks that sitting in the dim light and poking at a brain is in any way normal, then he's in for a surprise.

Without another word, Steve pivots and starts for the door, tray held tight in his hands.]

It's a research station for research. _{[He snaps it, unease flaring when the oaf shows no signs of stopping.]} A research specimen belongs where it can be properly cared for and contained.

_{[What does the man think he's going to do, walk around in public with an open brain? How does that register as being a remotely good idea over a trained doctor taking precautions within a lab environment?]}

You can't!

_{[Are you even listening to him? There are other brains where that one came from, but the instinct to prevent contamination is bred into his bones by now.]}

[Maybe Victor's words would have registered more in another situation, because what he's saying is logical when you get right down to it. But the fact that he's putting aside something as important as his own survival to experiment on a brain speaks to a lack of stability, and Steve kind of has a thing about scientists.

So he doesn't stop. Somehow it seems important that he prevents Victor from doing this one thing, even if it means going and tossing the sample into the snow where Victor won't be able to find it.

Despite the protests, Steve steps out of the door and starts down the hall. If Victor wants the brain back, he'll need to come after it.]

Do you hear what I'm saying?

_{[This can't happen! This man's about to downright steal a human brain if he doesn't come to his senses. Victor asks himself how it'd gotten to this as he scrambles after him, bumping his legs into his seat in his rush.]}

St--

_{[Except Steve's already past the door before he can get the command out.

This has to be a joke. A muscle-head didn't just break into his workspace and make off with the very thing he'd been working on just a moment ago, right? Victor goggles at the audacity of it all, making it to the door just in time to at the door frame, a growl of disbelief and frustration winding its way out of him. Petulance in its purest form.]}

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it's an obsession, man on a mission

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somebody get these two a comedy show, stat

jfc what a nightmare

i think you mean what a dream team

oh you're right excuse me (also lmk if this isn't okay!)

dear god, it's more than okay, lmao

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