2010-02-11: Mind Games

Starring:

Justin_V4icon.pngMatt_V4icon.png

Date: February 11, 2010

Summary:

One man's doing his job, while another one is playing mind games.


"Mind Games"

Building 27

When you can mess around with people's thoughts, escaping one person's notice is pretty straightforward. A well-organized group of them… not so much. Matt figures there are bound to be cameras, and people monitoring them that he can't easily locate. Eventually, he resorted to pushing a guard into wheeling him out for a health checkup, which seems to work okay… so long as he doesn't do it often enough to make anyone else suspicious.

A new mind enters the telepaths range as someone approaches the door. There's a flurry of quiet thoughts, confusion on his own part, and wondering what his job is supposed to be. A few words stand out. Moving them to the Barracks. There's no knock as the door unlocks, and the man steps inside. Clean cut, hair short, well-shaven, he looks like a soldier, dresses like a soldier. A side arm is visibly displayed, the first one to carry one into the holding room.

"Mr. Parkman. I'm here to offer you new accomidations." At least a bed to sleep in and a shower. All these rooms smell bad…

Matt hasn't noticed the stink too much, but that may just be because he's been in the middle of it for most of his stay. Barracks, huh? That sounds a hell of a lot more convenient, comfortable - not that he intends to stay here forever, but he may as well feel a little more human for as long as he does. And if it's a euphemism for something worse, then at least they haven't told this guy about it.

Outwardly, he merely lolls his head in the direction of the speaker, staring at him as if to say 'okay, keep talking'.

"I can see why we spent so much on perfecting Delta, now," Justin says, saying what he's thinking outloud, but adding on some disgust in what their 'solution' does to people. "I'm going to give you an injection that should counteract what they've given to you. It'll have the same effect, but it won't— " Make you look like a drooling moron? "I'll have fewer side effects. And it lasts longer, too." He steps closer, begining to unhook a pocket on his gear…

Crap, they're changing up the schedule on him. Noah might have swapped in a placebo for this, too, but he can't count on it. Just in case, the alleged drugged idiot pushes a thought outward: « Okay, that was easy enough— hit the vein on the first try. » He won't inject Matt if he thinks he already has, right?

I should tell the doctor to keep an eye on him, I wasn't supposed to hit the vein, a thought comes a moment later, even as he takes the dart, rather than the syringe of normal, and disposes it into another pocket for later. He'll have a full dart to look at later, and wonder, but for now he thinks he's done his job. "Do you feel better?"

Matt blinks a few times, lolling his head the other way. "I feel terrible," he mumbles - which is only mostly a lie - as he gets a better look at the other man. "Am I supposed to be able to walk now, or what? I'll take a wheelchair if you got one."

"Yeah, I can have them escourt you to the Barracks in a wheelchair if you think you need one. The doctors may want to check you over, too," Justin says, while he continues in his mind about how it's supposed to be injected into the fatty area, rather than the veins. He's been using the thigh, he shouldn't have tried to use the arm.

"I need to put the collar on you, though. It's a tracking device, mostly, it'll activate if you try to leave a select area, or remove or break it." He's still fretting about having done the injection wrong, even has he repeats that. They should have hired one of the doctors to do this.

And Matt should remember that he's not a doctor, either, next time he decides to get a little too specific about things. Don't they always use veins for injections? Oh well. « Man, that was a close call, almost hit the vein. » "Collar? Yeah, I guess… like I'm going anywhere anyway." This is actually pretty much true - he remembers Noah's warning clearly enough, and might well have come up with the same basic idea on his own anyway. Here, after all, should be the center of the action.

After a second glance, Justin seems to realize he didn't hit the vein like he thought. It's not bleeding enough. It gives him relief, at least, stops the fretting, and allows him to unlock another larger pouch in his clothes, he seems to have a ton of them, and pull out the collar marked for Parkman. This one's bigger than the others— but I guess he's a big guy. Probably why he needed a higher dose of Delta Solution too. "Sit up as much as you can," he says, moving closer. The gun would be temptingly close, but he doesn't even seem to worry about that as he gets the collar locked into place. They won't be going anywhere. We should try to find a permenant solution— I don't know why they haven't had the doctors working on one.

Matt mulls that last thought over for himself. That would be the logical endgame, wouldn't it? Make the whole thing just Go Away, without having to kill anyone. (Until one of them gets angry enough to shoot up a federal building or something.) Maybe they are working on it, or will at some point when they think they can spare the resources.

"Okay," he says, pushing himself up to a sitting position with a stiffness he doesn't actually feel. "I think I can walk, actually, just haul me into the chair if I fall down?"
Maybe one of the other Protocols is on it. I wouldn't be surprised if there's an Omega Protocol out there, Justin thinks quietly, as he helps get any restraints off so he can lead the way to the door. "The nurses will help move you to the Barracks. They'll give you a tour. You'll be allowed to choose a room of your own. I hear you'll even have televisions." And baths.

Matt shoots Justin a sarcastic smile. "How about a cute roommate? There was some hotel hiring human bedwarmers, you guys should do something like that." That's it, just keep acting tired and grumpy for now… with luck, he'll have some alert fellow inmates to conspire with pretty soon. Even without it, at least he'll have an easier time listening in on the staff.

"I think that'll be up to you and the rest of the people in the Barracks," Justin responds, laughing a little, but following up with thoughts of disgust at the idea of assigning the prisoners to warm each other. Especially considering how many young women he knows they have. He hasn't heard of any abuse of that variety, and if he did, he might have to shoot someone, even if he's supposed to be working for them. "All right, here's your nurse. He says he's feeling a little woozy, so if he starts to collapse, send for a wheelchair," he explains to the nurse, before he adds, "I read you're a cop, so if you see anyone in the Barracks causing trouble, report it." And by trouble, it's clear he means trying to hurt the other 'prisoners'.

Matt furrows his brow. Have they been having problems like that? Do they expect to? "Yeah, I will," he murmurs, making a mental note: this guy's just doing his job, try to keep him away from splash damage later.

With him in the hands of the nurses, Justin moves on down the hall, wondering who's next on the list. And how he needs to pick up the next collar.

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