Illusion Looking Glass

[Rwac96]

He was about to open his mouth once more but closes it. Running his hand through his black hair, Clark couldn't help but shake his head. "As I said," he then begins to make his way back to his seat, "pondering."

Placing his other hand on his temple, he looks down to the floor of the activity room. Before the formerly catatonic man spoke, Clark Kent was sure of himself and his mental state. Now, he seemed, conflicted, slightly rattled.

@Ver @Capri​

 

[Not a Writer]

Flynn bristled. Just hearing a voice in his direction did it - he turned a bit too quick, looking at the source of the voice. By now, the pounding had subsided, leaving a dull pain rocking in and out the fore of his skull, like the morning after a long night of drinking, without the dryness on his tongue. Flynn was left standing between the circle and the door like a man at sea, not knowing which way to swim to. All he had to look at was this girl that had dared to approach him.

After a moment, Flynn pulled his gaze away from her and turned, rubbing his face again and nodding hastily. "I'm fine. I'm- I just need to go back to my room."

He couldn't dignify the artist with a response, though he could hear his voice. He sounded as if he knew what he did - like he knew what Flynn had just seen. That, or he was just a freak trying to play at being an edgy, controversial artist. He almost laughed because that had to be it. He was getting riled up by a soft-skinned, cowardly bastard who wouldn't pick up a gun for his country if his life depended on it. He's a freak.

Flynn was the normal one. He had to be the normal one.

The marine shook his head again and tried to move for the door, but another voice lashed on his ankles like a chain.


"... What?" Flynn asked in a whisper.

He wasn't looking at Elijah when he spoke, but he heard him - more distinctly than anyone else in the room. What he said prompted him to turn slowly to look at his fellow patient. He was talking a lot - more than he ever did at all since Flynn came here. That fragile, brittle man spoke like he knew everyone. He told it like he was there - in the dirt, on the ground, in the stench.

The stinging, warm wetness of the blood on Flynn's face, his lungs unable to pump enough air to push his body into action. The boiling mud beneath his feet. The foul air, so thick that it clogged the throat. Stepping and stumbling over bodies like they were just more rocks in the dirt. the pounding and the thunderous roaring in his ears.

Here was this brittle, fragile, soft old man telling him that all of that was good.

"... Shut up," the marine growled, turning on his feet and starting towards Elijah. "Just- just shut the hell up. You don't get to say that."

Unless anyone was stopping him, the marine moved within just a few feet of Elijah, his dull gaze now lit with cold, bitter tension. Such a large and menacing man was standing over a nigh-catatonic cripple.

"People came here to be made better. People have seen shit that- that boggles the mind. That terrifies them. And you're sitting here, acting like- like they should believe in that? Like you know what they saw? What- what I saw?"

Flynn breathed and shook his head. "You don't know me. You don't know anyone. Fuck you."

@Not a Writer @Ottonomous Ghost @Ver @Josh @Rwac96 @Anyone​

Karina gave Sylvia a cheery smile. "Oh! I have no idea...but didn't Anastasia, like, lose her memory and end up in Paris and stuff? And like...she eloped too, right?" Karina pursed her lips as she tried to remember the extent of her Romanov history. "So I guess she wouldn't keep her last name since every Romanov in my family up until me was a guy. Unless she was a lesbian, maybe? But I mean, love who you love, right?"

Though her bubbly demenor deflated as Elijah spoke. Ugh...creepy. Not because he's in a wheelchair, of course. Disabled people are just like normal people! Or are they supposed to be called handicapped, maybe? She made a mental note to call that PR guy Daddy hired about that once she can finally get out of this place. The last thing she wanted was to be cancelled again.

"I mean, my other self would probably be, like, really happy to be rich?" She at least decided to humor Elijah, giving him a polite smile despite her unease at the flaring tensions in the room. "Karin - that was her name - she was always so...so angry. She was just such a bitch about, like, everything." As she said the next part, Karina's hand instinctively moved to her stomach. "She was always so hungry, too..."

But the sudden move from Flynn snapped her out of her reflection. "Um, h-hey! Maybe let's, um, not?"

@Josh @Ver @Crunch @Everyone​

"!!"

Hagusa himself had tuned out most of the conversation floating g around d him. There were too many people and conversations going on that he wanted no part of, though Flynn's sudden movement, which caused his chair to loudly hit the group caused the young man to flinch before tensing.



Eyes snapping to Elijah as he spoke, his words setting something deep in Hagusa's gut boiling.

"Yuki got locked in a closet, twice, as punishment from a shit dad and then an asshole of a brother. How is that fine?" He snapped, the words coming out at a low hiss, not aware of the slight slip. Though Flynn moving to stand over Elijah...it put him on edge, moreso than he already was, his fingers twitching as the tensions in the room quickly began to rise. Though Karina was quick in trying to defuse the situation, Hagusa could see where Flynn was coming from on one hand. On the other...the way things were playing out made the boy's anxiety spike. Flynn's large frame standing over Elijah reminded him of--

Taking a shaky breath to try and calm his nerves, his fists clenched and unclenched a moment. The boiling anger had subsided for now. Now that the fire was gone as quick as it came, he didn't even know what to do but he watched Flynn wearily as he shifted his stance as if he were going to try and stand between the two men almost on instinct.

@Ver @Crunch @Yun Lee @Everyone

Eno Liberi
@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @Ver @Everyone

Elijah's words got to him... Alot more than Eno himself had expected.

For a brief moment, he could feel a familiar, terrible pain coursing through is body. Like it was being pierced by thousands of needles, especially in his throat, resulting in this constant, never ending soreness. It made singing virtually impossible.

Then, he shook his head, gritting his teeth as he desperately fought to remain sane, as far as he knew.

"You... You're wrong, Elijah. It's better now that I've recovered. I... Know it." Eno said, quietly at first, fighting back the pain racking his body until it faded away once more.

He was just imagining it, it was all in his head. It had to be...

"Being Mephisto... Hurts. Those delusions all... Hurt... Knowing I'm not able to sing, unless I become a monster. Knowing how close I came to hurting everyone around me. So much that... I'm sure if Mephisto could see me now, he'd be... Happy. Happy I'm no longer hurting, happy I'm learning to sing as I am." He tried to smile, but it wavered a little.

Something about what he just said, though it felt right in his heart, was... Wrong to him somehow. He couldn't quite put it into words, much less understand exactly why.

In the end, he couldn't help but ask Elijah one more question, calming himself first before he spoke.

"How about you, then? What does... 'Mr. Glass' think of all of this? How did he end up in that wheelchair, if it wasn't a fall that happened twenty years ago?"

As if to rationalize his own treatment, and rehabilitation, he tried to turn the very techniques that had been employed to rehabilitate him on Elijah.

Though he couldn't quite understand why, he felt this need to justify himself.​

It wasn't difficult to tell that Flynn hadn't exactly been pleased with her intervention. Hesitantly, Takara shifted on her feet, well aware that situations such as these ought to be approached with great caution. She knew what it was like to be in a fragile state of mind, drowning in your own pain. She didn't want to cause any further undue distress. So she didn't make any attempt to get closer to him than she already was, staying a respectful several feet away as the man assured her he would be fine. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she nodded despite, maintaining her friendly smile. "Of course. I totally get needing some time to yourself," she assured, softly, "especially after getting caught up in so much noise." Seriously, it was so loud in here. "But anyway... if that changes and you ever feel like you need some quiet company, or someone to talk to, or anything of the like, feel free to let me know." She left it at that, having no intentions of forcing her support onto someone who didn't want or need it. She just knew that sometimes, a gentle reminder that people were there for you and valued your existence went a long way.

But, uh, maybe she wouldn't be getting to leave him alone, after all.

Following Elijah's sudden bout of speech, it felt as though the tension in the room became so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The cacophony that rose in the room was even more deafening than before; some people saw it fit to argue with the man, others recoiled in shock and dropped things or knocked over their chairs. The sound of the latter was enough to make Takara flinch, the loud crashes reminding her vividly of the sound of the truck that had impacted her own vehicle all that time ago and... something else she didn't want to think about. That being the so-called "Tatsumaki's" powers, crushing monsters and matter alike with only the power of her mind. But that part wasn't real. She'd honestly rather deal with the painful recollection of the crash than that. But right now, the present brought much larger concerns than the past, and when she finally snapped out of that painful flashback...

"H-hey, w-wait!" she yelped as she noticed Flynn storming toward Elijah. Without thinking, she scrambled in front of him, doing her best to stop him before he reached the self-proclaimed ex-supervillain. She had the sense to avoid putting her hands on Flynn in her efforts if at all possible, knowing that touching someone who was already in the midst of great distress could be triggering, but if simply blocking his path with her body wasn't enough then she wasn't afraid to resort to trying to gently tug him back. "I know his words sting, but please, try to be civil. Remember, Dr. Staple mentioned that he's significantly behind us in his rehab... Getting angry at someone who isn't in a place to understand you won't do anyone any good, so please, try to ignore him, okay? Even if it's hard and it hurts..." she spoke with her eyebrows furrowed, sounding stern but making sure she spoke quietly so as to hopefully avoid Elijah himself overhearing and being hurt by her words. "We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

 

[Josh]

Flynn bristled. Just hearing a voice in his direction did it - he turned a bit too quick, looking at the source of the voice. By now, the pounding had subsided, leaving a dull pain rocking in and out the fore of his skull, like the morning after a long night of drinking, without the dryness on his tongue. Flynn was left standing between the circle and the door like a man at sea, not knowing which way to swim to. All he had to look at was this girl that had dared to approach him.

After a moment, Flynn pulled his gaze away from her and turned, rubbing his face again and nodding hastily. "I'm fine. I'm- I just need to go back to my room."

He couldn't dignify the artist with a response, though he could hear his voice. He sounded as if he knew what he did - like he knew what Flynn had just seen. That, or he was just a freak trying to play at being an edgy, controversial artist. He almost laughed because that had to be it. He was getting riled up by a soft-skinned, cowardly bastard who wouldn't pick up a gun for his country if his life depended on it. He's a freak.

Flynn was the normal one. He had to be the normal one.

The marine shook his head again and tried to move for the door, but another voice lashed on his ankles like a chain.


"... What?" Flynn asked in a whisper.

He wasn't looking at Elijah when he spoke, but he heard him - more distinctly than anyone else in the room. What he said prompted him to turn slowly to look at his fellow patient. He was talking a lot - more than he ever did at all since Flynn came here. That fragile, brittle man spoke like he knew everyone. He told it like he was there - in the dirt, on the ground, in the stench.

The stinging, warm wetness of the blood on Flynn's face, his lungs unable to pump enough air to push his body into action. The boiling mud beneath his feet. The foul air, so thick that it clogged the throat. Stepping and stumbling over bodies like they were just more rocks in the dirt. the pounding and the thunderous roaring in his ears.

Here was this brittle, fragile, soft old man telling him that all of that was good.

"... Shut up," the marine growled, turning on his feet and starting towards Elijah. "Just- just shut the hell up. You don't get to say that."

Unless anyone was stopping him, the marine moved within just a few feet of Elijah, his dull gaze now lit with cold, bitter tension. Such a large and menacing man was standing over a nigh-catatonic cripple.

"People came here to be made better. People have seen shit that- that boggles the mind. That terrifies them. And you're sitting here, acting like- like they should believe in that? Like you know what they saw? What- what I saw?"

Flynn breathed and shook his head. "You don't know me. You don't know anyone. Fuck you."

@Not a Writer @Ottonomous Ghost @Ver @Josh @Rwac96 @Anyone​

At first, Slyvia stood there shocked. Slyvia was somewhat aware of Flynn's history and what his behavior could be. It's different to see it, however. Her first reaction was to get out of the way, to move quickly away. However, she froze. Taking a breath, Slyvia stood her ground as she stood near Elijah. glaring the marine in the eyes.

"Fylnn, you need to focus on your breathing, please? Hitting a man in a wheelchair doesn't help anything. Besides, it won't make you feel better."
View attachment 10778

Grabbing his shoulder, she lightly motioned him back. Not being aggressive, but not backing down.
​

It wasn't difficult to tell that Flynn hadn't exactly been pleased with her intervention. Hesitantly, Takara shifted on her feet, well aware that situations such as these ought to be approached with great caution. She knew what it was like to be in a fragile state of mind, drowning in your own pain. She didn't want to cause any further undue distress. So she didn't make any attempt to get closer to him than she already was, staying a respectful several feet away as the man assured her he would be fine. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she nodded despite, maintaining her friendly smile. "Of course. I totally get needing some time to yourself," she assured, softly, "especially after getting caught up in so much noise." Seriously, it was so loud in here. "But anyway... if that changes and you ever feel like you need some quiet company, or someone to talk to, or anything of the like, feel free to let me know." She left it at that, having no intentions of forcing her support onto someone who didn't want or need it. She just knew that sometimes, a gentle reminder that people were there for you and valued your existence went a long way.

But, uh, maybe she wouldn't be getting to leave him alone, after all.

Following Elijah's sudden bout of speech, it felt as though the tension in the room became so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The cacophony that rose in the room was even more deafening than before; some people saw it fit to argue with the man, others recoiled in shock and dropped things or knocked over their chairs. The sound of the latter was enough to make Takara flinch, the loud crashes reminding her vividly of the sound of the truck that had impacted her own vehicle all that time ago and... something else she didn't want to think about. That being the so-called "Tatsumaki's" powers, crushing monsters and matter alike with only the power of her mind. But that part wasn't real. She'd honestly rather deal with the painful recollection of the crash than that. But right now, the present brought much larger concerns than the past, and when she finally snapped out of that painful flashback...

"H-hey, w-wait!" she yelped as she noticed Flynn storming toward Elijah. Without thinking, she scrambled in front of him, doing her best to stop him before he reached the self-proclaimed ex-supervillain. She had the sense to avoid putting her hands on Flynn in her efforts if at all possible, knowing that touching someone who was already in the midst of great distress could be triggering, but if simply blocking his path with her body wasn't enough then she wasn't afraid to resort to trying to gently tug him back. "I know his words sting, but please, try to be civil. Remember, Dr. Staple mentioned that he's significantly behind us in his rehab... Getting angry at someone who isn't in a place to understand you won't do anyone any good, so please, try to ignore him, okay? Even if it's hard and it hurts..." she spoke with her eyebrows furrowed, sounding stern but making sure she spoke quietly so as to hopefully avoid Elijah himself overhearing and being hurt by her words. "We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

​

"She's right! Let's all just take seats back in the circle, and just relax. We're all fighting similar issues. We can't be at each other's throats. I, personally, would love some water. How about everyone else? Clark? Mac? Flynn? water for everyone?'"

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

 

[Rwac96]

"We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

"W-Water," he mutters, smacking his lips lightly. He did feel a little thirsty, as he spent the whole time in the circle, well, talking. The least Doctor Staple could've done was provide them something to drink.

"She's right! Let's all just take seats back in the circle, and just relax. We're all fighting similar issues. We can't be at each other's throats. I, personally, would love some water. How about everyone else? Clark? Mac? Flynn? water for everyone?'"

View attachment 10779

Clark nods his head quickly, "Water sounds best. I'm worrying over a delusion after all," the journalist lets out a small, nervous chuckle. Though, he turns his attention back to the floor, taking a deep breath.

@Crunch @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

 

[Ver]

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He then signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

 

[Jeremi]

The whole Elijah situation was getting real volatile. To his response, Michelle merely nodded. The man was verbose but at the same time very tight-lipped. [I'll go with y-] Michelle started to sign towards Peter before sheepishly picking up the tablet. "I'll go with you if that's okay?" She still hadn't learned who among them actually knew ASL.

@Ver @Everyone

 

[Minerva]

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

Morgan finished wiping herself down. "I'll come help you." She said, giving a deep sigh. She tore off several more paper towels and pressed them against her shirt. She furiously scraped in an attempt to get rid of the dark formless stain that was forming. "I need to change my shirt anyway."

"I'm a fucking doctor in Aerospace Engineering, and I can't hold a fucking coffee cup correctly." She muttered under her breath. "Get your shit together, Morgan."​

 

[Rwac96]

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

Grabs at his own hair a bit, gritting his teeth somewhat. The journalist lightly shakes his head, then returns his gaze to Elijah. "There's a clear difference," he spoke up to him, "between aspiring to be extraordinary and accepting a delusion."

"The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Clark slumps in his chair, as many thoughts were filling his mind. The Kansas-Raised man looked conflicted, as he began to ponder on his other self, former self as Elijah alleged. People are always in danger in the world, though, the prospect of the people here, him included, are being lied to by people who are supposed to help them. That certainly made the reporter nervous, his right foot tapping rapidly. Medical professionals wanting to suppress their memories and the truth, it's practices like these that would motivate Lois to investigate.

"I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

Supervillain? There was that word again, something that the former catatonic man claimed to be. Though the thought was ridiculous, the possibility that Elijah faked his condition. Maybe, he can come with Peter to get Staple and also some answers from her--

View attachment 10780

The image of his beloved opening a jack-in-the-box, sporting a toy replica of Winslow Schott; the 'Toyman' of his brand of children's toys. Likely for their son...no. He's ten, he'd prefer a game. Maybe it was from him--Then, the 'toy' exploded; destroying their home...and his wife.

"LOIS!!" Clark hollers at the top of his lungs, rising from his seat in alarm; sweat pouring down his face. "Ah," he looks around at his fellow patients, his brows creased in worry. "I...I think I'll stay and keep an eye on Elijah. Make sure he doesn't...do anything."

@Ver @Jeremi @Minerva @Everyone​

 

[Ottonomous Ghost]

"Khada" Jhin - Activity Room
@Ver @everyone

---

​

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He can signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

Khada continued to sit with his head supported by his hand, his eyes vacant. That was, until, Elijah began spouting all sorts of condescending nonsense. The virtuoso's eyes slowly moved to stare at Elijah as he blabbered. Yet it seemed that he was not looking at Elijah, but through him instead.

You have too many lines.

Rhythmically, Khada began tapping his index finger against his temple in sets of 4.

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four...​

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

"Alright!" Khada exclaimed, abruptly standing up and breaking free from his internal trance. "I've grown tired of this tawdry setting. Allow me to accompany you before I lose any more of my composure."​

 

[Takumi]

It wasn't difficult to tell that Flynn hadn't exactly been pleased with her intervention. Hesitantly, Takara shifted on her feet, well aware that situations such as these ought to be approached with great caution. She knew what it was like to be in a fragile state of mind, drowning in your own pain. She didn't want to cause any further undue distress. So she didn't make any attempt to get closer to him than she already was, staying a respectful several feet away as the man assured her he would be fine. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she nodded despite, maintaining her friendly smile. "Of course. I totally get needing some time to yourself," she assured, softly, "especially after getting caught up in so much noise." Seriously, it was so loud in here. "But anyway... if that changes and you ever feel like you need some quiet company, or someone to talk to, or anything of the like, feel free to let me know." She left it at that, having no intentions of forcing her support onto someone who didn't want or need it. She just knew that sometimes, a gentle reminder that people were there for you and valued your existence went a long way.

But, uh, maybe she wouldn't be getting to leave him alone, after all.

Following Elijah's sudden bout of speech, it felt as though the tension in the room became so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The cacophony that rose in the room was even more deafening than before; some people saw it fit to argue with the man, others recoiled in shock and dropped things or knocked over their chairs. The sound of the latter was enough to make Takara flinch, the loud crashes reminding her vividly of the sound of the truck that had impacted her own vehicle all that time ago and... something else she didn't want to think about. That being the so-called "Tatsumaki's" powers, crushing monsters and matter alike with only the power of her mind. But that part wasn't real. She'd honestly rather deal with the painful recollection of the crash than that. But right now, the present brought much larger concerns than the past, and when she finally snapped out of that painful flashback...

"H-hey, w-wait!" she yelped as she noticed Flynn storming toward Elijah. Without thinking, she scrambled in front of him, doing her best to stop him before he reached the self-proclaimed ex-supervillain. She had the sense to avoid putting her hands on Flynn in her efforts if at all possible, knowing that touching someone who was already in the midst of great distress could be triggering, but if simply blocking his path with her body wasn't enough then she wasn't afraid to resort to trying to gently tug him back. "I know his words sting, but please, try to be civil. Remember, Dr. Staple mentioned that he's significantly behind us in his rehab... Getting angry at someone who isn't in a place to understand you won't do anyone any good, so please, try to ignore him, okay? Even if it's hard and it hurts..." she spoke with her eyebrows furrowed, sounding stern but making sure she spoke quietly so as to hopefully avoid Elijah himself overhearing and being hurt by her words. "We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He can signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

When Takara tried to stand between Flynn and Elijah, Hagusa watched with cautious curiosity. At the suggestion of water he opened his mouth to speak. At first nothing came out, but he found his voice eventually.

"...Yeah, water sounds nice." He muttered, only to frown shortly after at how loud it got quickly. Too many people yelling or talking loudly.

Elijah was ignored, for now, as Peter was quick to cut in himself. Hagusa contemplated leaving the room and heading back to his own, but...

"I'll stay." He mumbled. How he saw it, if Takara and Sylvia stayed to try and calm Flynn down while Elijah continued to try and egg him on like this there was a chance things could get worse. Not only that, but...something about Takara trying to stand between the two reminded him of something from back at the Tajima household, a fuzzy half formed memory with blurred faces.

'That's right, she said she had a sister...' he thought, scratching near his left collar bone again for a second. He wouldn't sit back down just yet, a bit too wound up to do so.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Crunch @Josh @Everyone

 

[Capri]

ERIN NATICK
@Ver @Jeremi @Minerva @Ottonomous Ghost @Takumi @Everyone

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He can signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone

There was something off about Erin’s expression, she seemed quite… wary of Elijah after what he said. Anyone looking would see questions lurking in her mind.

Elijah was speaking nonsense, but she knew if she stayed, she would lose herself even more. So she played it safe.

"I’m gonna go see Dr. Staple," she said.

But rushing through her mind was one question: I never said my delusion was tall, especially around Elijah, yet he knew it was. How?​

 

[Crunch]

"H-hey, w-wait!" she yelped as she noticed Flynn storming toward Elijah. Without thinking, she scrambled in front of him, doing her best to stop him before he reached the self-proclaimed ex-supervillain. She had the sense to avoid putting her hands on Flynn in her efforts if at all possible, knowing that touching someone who was already in the midst of great distress could be triggering, but if simply blocking his path with her body wasn't enough then she wasn't afraid to resort to trying to gently tug him back. "I know his words sting, but please, try to be civil. Remember, Dr. Staple mentioned that he's significantly behind us in his rehab... Getting angry at someone who isn't in a place to understand you won't do anyone any good, so please, try to ignore him, okay? Even if it's hard and it hurts..." she spoke with her eyebrows furrowed, sounding stern but making sure she spoke quietly so as to hopefully avoid Elijah himself overhearing and being hurt by her words. "We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

At first, Slyvia stood there shocked. Slyvia was somewhat aware of Flynn's history and what his behavior could be. It's different to see it, however. Her first reaction was to get out of the way, to move quickly away. However, she froze. Taking a breath, Slyvia stood her ground as she stood near Elijah. glaring the marine in the eyes.

"Fylnn, you need to focus on your breathing, please? Hitting a man in a wheelchair doesn't help anything. Besides, it won't make you feel better."
View attachment 10778

Grabbing his shoulder, she lightly motioned him back. Not being aggressive, but not backing down.



"She's right! Let's all just take seats back in the circle, and just relax. We're all fighting similar issues. We can't be at each other's throats. I, personally, would love some water. How about everyone else? Clark? Mac? Flynn? water for everyone?'"

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

Flynn breathed - in and out - to the tune of the twin voices ringing in his ear. Takara on one side, and Sylvia on the other, each of them talking him down like they were trying to wrangle an animal that had broken free from containment. Yet, the pounding continued, throbbing in his skull to the temp of the warm blood pumping through his veins - thump, thump, thump. The pounding always began when the visions came. Flynn didn't know what they meant, but he knew how it felt. He knew when it happened, he had to get away from everyone else. He had to get air into his failing lungs.

Dr. Staple called it a severe anxiety attack, likely coinciding with his post-traumatic stress disorder. At the time, Flynn could hardly speak. He wasn't forming words until after the first few weeks of treatment. If he could, though, he'd have called her on her bullshit. Flynn knew guys who were shaken up by the war, and most of them end up like Elijah - quiet, still, only barely alive - but none of them had seen what he saw; the threat that he knew was real.

That was then. This is now. He's having a severe anxiety attack and threatening to beat an old cripple over the head for no reason at all. As Sylvia brushed her fingers over Flynn's shoulder, she could feel a palpable tension in his muscles - like he'd tensed them anymore, they'd snap like rubber bands. After a moment, though, Flynn began to breathe and the tension began to fade.

"... This guy is just a freak," the marine grunted, wiping his mouth and starting to turn away. "Just like everyone else here."
​

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

Then Elijah started talking again. Flynn had only heard him speak for a few minutes, and he already hated the sound of his voice. It was what he said that brought the marine to pause in his step as if being frozen in time.

To rip and tear them apart. Rip and tear. Rip and tear, until it is done.

"..."

Flynn's fingers twitch, and his knuckles crack in his skin, folding into a tight fist. His head turns at an angle, looking at the wheelchair-bound Elijah over his shoulder. The thing that Elijah was staring at was a man - but in those eyes was someone that was decidedly not Flynn Blazkowicz. Those eyes, frozen in a chilling, empty stare, could only be hate. An unholy, unbridled, unrepentant rage that had not known peace for God knows how long - only hatred for something. Only hatred for him, at this moment, shared between them.

The thing wearing the marine's skin stared at Elijah for just a few seconds, before the marine rapidly blinked away something in his eye, and his gaze returned to what it was - an angry, confused, troubled man. Flynn scoffed and shook his head. He was done entertaining this freak and his fantasies.

"I'm going to go look for the doctor," he said to no one after Peter had brought it up, shrugging Sylvia and Takara off of himself before trudging away towards the door.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

 

[Yun Lee]

God, did she really have to choose one or the other? Karina was so uncomfortable at this point that she just wanted to go back to her room and curl up under her covers. Having to remember all the horrible things Karin saw and did...ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh! Could this stupid program be over with already???

No longer as bubbly as she'd been earlier, Karina decided to stay behind while everyone else ran off. Most of the people leaving were the ones who got all worked up over Elijah, and she totally didn't want to be around that. Like, at all. Even with how creepy Elijah could get...maybe she could handle it better?

@Ver @Rwac96 @Takumi @Everyone​

 

[Rwac96]

Though this went against his better judgment and it could endanger his mental recovery, something in Clark's mind warned him not to leave Elijah unchecked in the Activity Room. The man gulped, noticing how Khada was counting to four repeatedly, Flynn's demeanor seemed to be becoming severe, especially since he had PTSD, and not to mention the words Elijah was spouting was bringing some form of doubt in the minds of those present. Clark himself included, as he was now getting mental flashes of this 'Superman' and his life; first, it was him saving Lois falling from the Daily Planet. Then, it was Schott bombing their home as if he was a supervillain.

People were now becoming uncomfortable around Elijah, but at the same time, he was talking like a man with a plan. A criminal mastermind, like--

View attachment 10783

"Luthor," Clark adjusts his glasses once more, the (in)famous CEO and founder of LexCorp came into his mind. The matter of the philanthropist was usually Lois' worries whenever she did an investigative report on him. But, in his other life, as Superman, he was a figure who was in a position of power; power that was used to cause chaos.

The journalist shakes his head, no need to focus on that now. His current concern was the man in the wheelchair, and hopefully, anyone who chooses to stay with him and watch over Elijah. Though he was stirring things up, leaving him alone seems wouldn't be better either.

@Ver @Takumi @Capri @Ottonomous Ghost @Everyone​

 

[Josh]

Flynn breathed - in and out - to the tune of the twin voices ringing in his ear. Takara on one side, and Sylvia on the other, each of them talking him down like they were trying to wrangle an animal that had broken free from containment. Yet, the pounding continued, throbbing in his skull to the temp of the warm blood pumping through his veins - thump, thump, thump. The pounding always began when the visions came. Flynn didn't know what they meant, but he knew how it felt. He knew when it happened, he had to get away from everyone else. He had to get air into his failing lungs.

Dr. Staple called it a severe anxiety attack, likely coinciding with his post-traumatic stress disorder. At the time, Flynn could hardly speak. He wasn't forming words until after the first few weeks of treatment. If he could, though, he'd have called her on her bullshit. Flynn knew guys who were shaken up by the war, and most of them end up like Elijah - quiet, still, only barely alive - but none of them had seen what he saw; the threat that he knew was real.

That was then. This is now. He's having a severe anxiety attack and threatening to beat an old cripple over the head for no reason at all. As Sylvia brushed her fingers over Flynn's shoulder, she could feel a palpable tension in his muscles - like he'd tensed them anymore, they'd snap like rubber bands. After a moment, though, Flynn began to breathe and the tension began to fade.

"... This guy is just a freak," the marine grunted, wiping his mouth and starting to turn away. "Just like everyone else here."


Then Elijah started talking again. Flynn had only heard him speak for a few minutes, and he already hated the sound of his voice. It was what he said that brought the marine to pause in his step as if being frozen in time.

To rip and tear them apart. Rip and tear. Rip and tear, until it is done.

"..."

Flynn's fingers twitch, and his knuckles crack in his skin, folding into a tight fist. His head turns at an angle, looking at the wheelchair-bound Elijah over his shoulder. The thing that Elijah was staring at was a man - but in those eyes was someone that was decidedly not Flynn Blazkowicz. Those eyes, frozen in a chilling, empty stare, could only be hate. An unholy, unbridled, unrepentant rage that had not known peace for God knows how long - only hatred for something. Only hatred for him, at this moment, shared between them.

The thing wearing the marine's skin stared at Elijah for just a few seconds, before the marine rapidly blinked away something in his eye, and his gaze returned to what it was - an angry, confused, troubled man. Flynn scoffed and shook his head. He was done entertaining this freak and his fantasies.

"I'm going to go look for the doctor," he said to no one after Peter had brought it up, shrugging Sylvia and Takara off of himself before trudging away towards the door.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

Deciding to stay with Elijah. Watching Flynn walking off, Sylvia held her hand. The lingering tension she physically felt from him lingered, noticeably worried, her British accent escaped her mouth.
View attachment 10785
"Just be safe, Flynn."

A sigh escaped her mouth, followed by a shake of her head. walking towards a water fountain, Sylvia took her time to fetch water for the ones who need it. The woman was lost in her head, admittedly. Something just didn't feel right. as she gathered all the cups and poured water into them. Walkign to Elijah, Sylvia smile on her face. Giving hima cup of water, she spoke

"Here, take this water. So, if I could change the subject slightly. You seem to know alot about us. You think we're all special? How do you know that and if we're all special, that mean you're special? What makes you special? Having a softer bone structure isn't a traditional superpower. As a Natural historian, it interests me"

@Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Capri @Takumi @Ver @Ottonomous Ghost @staying group


​

 

[Not a Writer]

At first, Slyvia stood there shocked. Slyvia was somewhat aware of Flynn's history and what his behavior could be. It's different to see it, however. Her first reaction was to get out of the way, to move quickly away. However, she froze. Taking a breath, Slyvia stood her ground as she stood near Elijah. glaring the marine in the eyes.

"Fylnn, you need to focus on your breathing, please? Hitting a man in a wheelchair doesn't help anything. Besides, it won't make you feel better."
View attachment 10778

Grabbing his shoulder, she lightly motioned him back. Not being aggressive, but not backing down.



"She's right! Let's all just take seats back in the circle, and just relax. We're all fighting similar issues. We can't be at each other's throats. I, personally, would love some water. How about everyone else? Clark? Mac? Flynn? water for everyone?'"

@Ver @Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

"W-Water," he mutters, smacking his lips lightly. He did feel a little thirsty, as he spent the whole time in the circle, well, talking. The least Doctor Staple could've done was provide them something to drink.



View attachment 10779

Clark nods his head quickly, "Water sounds best. I'm worrying over a delusion after all," the journalist lets out a small, nervous chuckle. Though, he turns his attention back to the floor, taking a deep breath.

@Crunch @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He then signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

When Takara tried to stand between Flynn and Elijah, Hagusa watched with cautious curiosity. At the suggestion of water he opened his mouth to speak. At first nothing came out, but he found his voice eventually.

"...Yeah, water sounds nice." He muttered, only to frown shortly after at how loud it got quickly. Too many people yelling or talking loudly.

Elijah was ignored, for now, as Peter was quick to cut in himself. Hagusa contemplated leaving the room and heading back to his own, but...

"I'll stay." He mumbled. How he saw it, if Takara and Sylvia stayed to try and calm Flynn down while Elijah continued to try and egg him on like this there was a chance things could get worse. Not only that, but...something about Takara trying to stand between the two reminded him of something from back at the Tajima household, a fuzzy half formed memory with blurred faces.

'That's right, she said she had a sister...' he thought, scratching near his left collar bone again for a second. He wouldn't sit back down just yet, a bit too wound up to do so.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Crunch @Josh @Everyone

Flynn breathed - in and out - to the tune of the twin voices ringing in his ear. Takara on one side, and Sylvia on the other, each of them talking him down like they were trying to wrangle an animal that had broken free from containment. Yet, the pounding continued, throbbing in his skull to the temp of the warm blood pumping through his veins - thump, thump, thump. The pounding always began when the visions came. Flynn didn't know what they meant, but he knew how it felt. He knew when it happened, he had to get away from everyone else. He had to get air into his failing lungs.

Dr. Staple called it a severe anxiety attack, likely coinciding with his post-traumatic stress disorder. At the time, Flynn could hardly speak. He wasn't forming words until after the first few weeks of treatment. If he could, though, he'd have called her on her bullshit. Flynn knew guys who were shaken up by the war, and most of them end up like Elijah - quiet, still, only barely alive - but none of them had seen what he saw; the threat that he knew was real.

That was then. This is now. He's having a severe anxiety attack and threatening to beat an old cripple over the head for no reason at all. As Sylvia brushed her fingers over Flynn's shoulder, she could feel a palpable tension in his muscles - like he'd tensed them anymore, they'd snap like rubber bands. After a moment, though, Flynn began to breathe and the tension began to fade.

"... This guy is just a freak," the marine grunted, wiping his mouth and starting to turn away. "Just like everyone else here."


Then Elijah started talking again. Flynn had only heard him speak for a few minutes, and he already hated the sound of his voice. It was what he said that brought the marine to pause in his step as if being frozen in time.

To rip and tear them apart. Rip and tear. Rip and tear, until it is done.

"..."

Flynn's fingers twitch, and his knuckles crack in his skin, folding into a tight fist. His head turns at an angle, looking at the wheelchair-bound Elijah over his shoulder. The thing that Elijah was staring at was a man - but in those eyes was someone that was decidedly not Flynn Blazkowicz. Those eyes, frozen in a chilling, empty stare, could only be hate. An unholy, unbridled, unrepentant rage that had not known peace for God knows how long - only hatred for something. Only hatred for him, at this moment, shared between them.

The thing wearing the marine's skin stared at Elijah for just a few seconds, before the marine rapidly blinked away something in his eye, and his gaze returned to what it was - an angry, confused, troubled man. Flynn scoffed and shook his head. He was done entertaining this freak and his fantasies.

"I'm going to go look for the doctor," he said to no one after Peter had brought it up, shrugging Sylvia and Takara off of himself before trudging away towards the door.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

God, did she really have to choose one or the other? Karina was so uncomfortable at this point that she just wanted to go back to her room and curl up under her covers. Having to remember all the horrible things Karin saw and did...ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh! Could this stupid program be over with already???

No longer as bubbly as she'd been earlier, Karina decided to stay behind while everyone else ran off. Most of the people leaving were the ones who got all worked up over Elijah, and she totally didn't want to be around that. Like, at all. Even with how creepy Elijah could get...maybe she could handle it better?

@Ver @Rwac96 @Takumi @Everyone​

Deciding to stay with Elija. Watching Flynn walking off, Sylvia held her hand. The lingering tension she physically felt from him lingered, noticeably worried, her British accent escaped her mouth.
View attachment 10785
"Just be safe, Flynn."

A sigh escaped her mouth, followed by a shake of her head. walking towards a water fountain, Sylvia took her time to fetch water for the ones who need it. The woman was lost in her head, admittedly. Something just didn't feel right. as she gathered all the cups and poured water into them. Walkign to Elijah, Sylvia smile on her face. Giving hima cup of water, she spoke

"Here, take this water. So, if I could change the subject slightly. You seem to know alot about us. You think we're all special? How do you know that and if we're all special, that mean you're special? What makes you special? Having a softer bone structure isn't a traditional superpower. As a Natural historian, it interests me"

@Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Capri @Takumi @Ver @Ottonomous Ghost @staying group


​

This definitely wasn't good. With every passing moment, the young-looking woman felt more and more anxious. It felt like Elijah had singlehandedly turned everyone in the room into ticking time bombs, each ready to go off at any given second. Takara could feel it almost as much as she could see it; the unease, the uncertainty, the questioning of all they'd ever known. All of the effort that the wonderful care team at this facility had put into helping each and every one of them over the course of so much time she couldn't even remember it clearly was now unravelling, like the sweater of a child who simply couldn't help but continue pulling on that one loose thread. As much as she wanted to reassure everyone and help keep them together, she was no doctor. But at least she wasn't the only one in a decent enough state of mind to do their best to intervene. Sylvia and Peter's agreement with her words came as a great relief, and she found her smile coming just a little easier after they spoke.

Though she didn't comment on Sylvia's words to Flynn, for she personally guessed that the man wouldn't actually go that far, she was still glad to have another person beside her in case Elijah ended up provoking him further. Caution never hurt anyone, after all. As for what the other woman said next, she simply nodded. "Exactly," she breathed in agreement with Sylvia, just before Peter practically took the words out of her mouth. "Agreed. If it's alright, I'd...--" Well. Uh. She was gonna say she'd like to help find the doctor, but the words fell away as about half the room chimed in to say they wanted to seek out help themselves, leaving her to blink owlishly before pursing her lips. Welp. So much for that. "I guess I'll just grab everyone that water," she hummed, not showing any sign of disappointment with this development even if it hadn't necessarily been preferred. Before she turned away to fetch some cups, though, she shot Flynn one last meek half-smile. "Just... try not to overdo it. I know you said you wanted a moment alone before. Don't be afraid to stop in your room for a break or something if you need it," she gently advised, before finally doing as he clearly wished and leaving him be.

As she made her way to help fetch cups for Sylvia to fill at the fountain, the woman was fairly quiet, glancing over her shoulder at the group that had chosen to stay several times throughout the process. She wanted to make sure they were alright, after all; it was clear Clark in particular was struggling with what Elijah had said to them, and the words of Hagusa had troubled her very deeply as well. She knew it wasn't the same, knew that her experience wasn't real like his was, but even so... his story had tugged at her heart in a unique way, because it was one she shared. It had all been a delusion, of course; a twisted fantasy her mind had made up in her days in the ICU... but she remembered a time where she had been alone and abandoned, broken and abused by horrible people who paid off her family in order to use her for their experiments. It might've all been an illusion conjured up by a broken mind, but that didn't change how real it felt, or how painful it was to see a child presumably suffering through the same pain of abandonment and abuse. After all, if he was here at such a young age, she couldn't imagine what horrible things he must've gone through.

It felt like proof of the sentiment that so-called Tatsumaki had held so dear. It was pointless to get caught up with others. Nobody else in the world could save you but you. So why bother being there for people who wouldn't show you the same kindness? Why not shut them all out instead, let them know the pain they had all shown you?

"..."

No. She was better than that.

Momentarily lost in those dark thoughts, the woman accidentally crushed one of the plastic cups in her hand, its contents spilling right back into the fountain the water had been drawn from in the first place. Shit. She needed to refocus herself. Taking a deep breath, she disposed of the crushed cup, carefully picking up the remaining in tact ones and smiling as she moved to pass them out to the patients that had stayed behind. "Thank you for the help, Sylvia," she added to the other woman, sincerely grateful for the assistance. And, honestly, for the fact that she had gone to Elijah. That meant Takara could focus on the other patients and do her best to help them calm down, too. Handing off water to Clark, Hagusa, and Karina in particular, the woman paused to look between each of them with evident concern. "Are you all okay? I know things got a little crazy for a sec, there. If there's anything else I can do, don't be afraid to let me know. And if you aren't sure about what'll help... try to pick something in the room to focus on. Something that isn't Elijah, and isn't you; just an object or person you like, or that interests you, or something." It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would hopefully at least get them out of the negative rut. Of course, as much as she wanted to help, she also fully intended to keep an eye on Elijah as well. Logic said nothing would happen, of course; he was just a guy. A normal person, if a little confused, just like the rest of them. Yet for some strange reason, the look in his eyes set off her danger sense, putting her fight or flight instinct on high. It made the worst part of her want to crush him, not unlike she'd done to that cup earlier. She really hoped that the situation would dissolve soon. She didn't want to deal with her right now... not when she'd finally felt like she'd gotten rid of those terrible tendencies.

@Ver @Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Takumi @Josh @Stayingbackgroup​

 

[Rwac96]

Handing off water to Clark, Hagusa, and Karina in particular, the woman paused to look between each of them with evident concern. "Are you all okay? I know things got a little crazy for a sec, there. If there's anything else I can do, don't be afraid to let me know. And if you aren't sure about what'll help... try to pick something in the room to focus on. Something that isn't Elijah, and isn't you; just an object or person you like, or that interests you, or something."

Moving his blue eyes to Takara, seeing her holding out a cup of water. Reaching out to grab it, Clark nods his head lightly. "Thank you," bringing the cup to his lips, taking a sip of water. Moving the cup from his face, holding it with both hands as he stares into his drink. "and, well, admittedly, no. I am not okay," he furrows his brows once more; but not into a fierce glare.

"I'm...I'm not sure who's word to trust at this moment. Either I trust the word of a possible maniac," his hands shake a bit, "or trust the words of doctors...doctors who are likely hiding things from us." Clark closes his eyes, bringing the cup to his face to take another sip. "I don't know if this is my reporter's instincts or...well, this Superman's life experience. All that's certain...something isn't right."

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[York]

Spoiler: Replies

[I'm already everything but ordinary,] Michelle signed at Elijah. [The fact of the matter is that I don't have to make myself more special than I already am. Besides thinking I am a Greek God? That's pretty out there for delusions.] Though having signed that she lowered her hands hesitantly. A memory of one of her races. She had dominated the field even more than usual. Speed lines had appeared and on the horizon, a massive figure had loomed before vanishing as she reached the finish line.

She shouldn't ask this...she had been doing so well but. [What would our others think?]

@Ver @Everyone

"Khada" Jhin - Activity Room
@Ver @Capri @everyone

---

Khada was almost blown away by Elijah's flood of sudden words. He was excited at first, but as his brain began processing the actual words themselves, he scoffed and nodded in agreeance to Erin's statement. "Likewise. It's rather brash of you to assume that I had gone along with this program as if I was some puppet in someone else's performance. I have been cured, not 'normalized.' It took years to grow out of the character I was dead set on playing. My passion was so powerful, I almost became a slave to it. This place saved me from that madness and set me up to succeed. How could I become a world-renowned artist if I'm behind bars, wasting away, and undone by my own work? Ridiculous. The idea that I would make art out of--" The words caught in his throat as images of bodies briefly flashed in his mind. Bodies that were... made beautiful? His eyes suddenly looked to the side and down to the ground, a scowl forming on his face. Why did he felt like he was speaking a monologue that wasn't his own? He coughed. "No, that's absurd."​

Morgan made her way towards the trash can to throw away the shards of ceramic from the mug. She turned her head to respond. "What you're saying is that you're certainly not Richard Upton Pickman." She said, dusting her hands off over the trashcan. She tore off several paper towels and started pressing them against her shirt, where some coffee had spilled. She vocalized a sound of disgust.

"It's understandable. You desire to reach the beauty of Aphrodite and Apollo, rather than what you feel is some grotesque mockery."​

"Khada" Jhin - Activity Room
@Ver @Minerva @everyone

---

Khada nodded at Morgan, impressed. She understood exactly what he was saying, and not only that, but her taste in literature was admirable. He opened his mouth to speak. "Corr--ect..." he replied, his voice breaking for a split second like a lagging computer.

He pondered the two words. Beauty and grotesqueness. These two concepts stood in contrast with each other. He felt a mind worm echo in his head, distracting him from observing the room like he had before, his inspiration becoming internal instead of external. He sighed and leaned his head onto his palm.

How can you comprehend beauty without first understanding ugliness? The essence of a thing is found only in its absence.

He felt like playing the violin again. Why did he even stop in the first place?​

As everyone in the circle began to converse among themselves, discussing the validity of Elijah's words, Clark was silent; thinking to himself. Doctor Staple mentioned that the man imagined himself as a supervillain named 'Mister Glass', people who this 'Superman' stopped. The journalist rubs his face, as he begins to pace around in a small circle. On one hand, he wanted to get better; return to his job, if possible and return to his loved ones. Doubting himself being human was a response to his longing of asking who he was, as the doctors theorized.

But on the other hand, something begins to nag in his mind. Even if Elijah was speaking the truth, even if he was this villain, why would he inform them that they were being manipulated? Clark stops pacing, looking down with his brows furrowed. Superman, who he believed he was, wouldn't pressure anyone into doing something they wouldn't want to do; even when it endangers their well-being. But Superman wouldn't let anyone get taken advantage of.

Superman...he...

View attachment 10776

He helps people.

"He saves them," Clark spoke up, lifting his head up as if he was given an epiphany.

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ERIN NATICK
@Ver @Rwac96 @EveryoneElse

"Who saves who?" Erin inquires, "If you’re talking about your other self, maybe we should call Dr. Staple?"​

Turning his attention to Erin, Clark clears his throat and pushes his glasses back up against his face. "We shouldn't interrupt her," he says with a slight shake of his head. "and besides, I'm simply...pondering over it. Plus, I...I suspect there's something off with my memory. Like, how long I've been here."

@Ver @Capri @Everyone​

ERIN NATICK
@Ver @Rwac96 @EveryoneElse

"Mr. Price identifies as male last I checked, Mr. Kent," Erin said, "Besides…"

Erin takes off her shoes before twirling like a ballerina, ending with her feet on pointe.

"I certainly don’t feel anything wrong with my memory,"

Erin does another ballet twirl before sitting in her chair once again.​

He was about to open his mouth once more but closes it. Running his hand through his black hair, Clark couldn't help but shake his head. "As I said," he then begins to make his way back to his seat, "pondering."

Placing his other hand on his temple, he looks down to the floor of the activity room. Before the formerly catatonic man spoke, Clark Kent was sure of himself and his mental state. Now, he seemed, conflicted, slightly rattled.

@Ver @Capri​

It wasn't difficult to tell that Flynn hadn't exactly been pleased with her intervention. Hesitantly, Takara shifted on her feet, well aware that situations such as these ought to be approached with great caution. She knew what it was like to be in a fragile state of mind, drowning in your own pain. She didn't want to cause any further undue distress. So she didn't make any attempt to get closer to him than she already was, staying a respectful several feet away as the man assured her he would be fine. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she nodded despite, maintaining her friendly smile. "Of course. I totally get needing some time to yourself," she assured, softly, "especially after getting caught up in so much noise." Seriously, it was so loud in here. "But anyway... if that changes and you ever feel like you need some quiet company, or someone to talk to, or anything of the like, feel free to let me know." She left it at that, having no intentions of forcing her support onto someone who didn't want or need it. She just knew that sometimes, a gentle reminder that people were there for you and valued your existence went a long way.

But, uh, maybe she wouldn't be getting to leave him alone, after all.

Following Elijah's sudden bout of speech, it felt as though the tension in the room became so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The cacophony that rose in the room was even more deafening than before; some people saw it fit to argue with the man, others recoiled in shock and dropped things or knocked over their chairs. The sound of the latter was enough to make Takara flinch, the loud crashes reminding her vividly of the sound of the truck that had impacted her own vehicle all that time ago and... something else she didn't want to think about. That being the so-called "Tatsumaki's" powers, crushing monsters and matter alike with only the power of her mind. But that part wasn't real. She'd honestly rather deal with the painful recollection of the crash than that. But right now, the present brought much larger concerns than the past, and when she finally snapped out of that painful flashback...

"H-hey, w-wait!" she yelped as she noticed Flynn storming toward Elijah. Without thinking, she scrambled in front of him, doing her best to stop him before he reached the self-proclaimed ex-supervillain. She had the sense to avoid putting her hands on Flynn in her efforts if at all possible, knowing that touching someone who was already in the midst of great distress could be triggering, but if simply blocking his path with her body wasn't enough then she wasn't afraid to resort to trying to gently tug him back. "I know his words sting, but please, try to be civil. Remember, Dr. Staple mentioned that he's significantly behind us in his rehab... Getting angry at someone who isn't in a place to understand you won't do anyone any good, so please, try to ignore him, okay? Even if it's hard and it hurts..." she spoke with her eyebrows furrowed, sounding stern but making sure she spoke quietly so as to hopefully avoid Elijah himself overhearing and being hurt by her words. "We can all talk about this together, alright? Is everyone okay? No offense, but some of you aren't looking so hot." Especially the kid. Shit, he looked so young, and hearing that he had received that kind of treatment... it was utterly heartbreaking. "It might be best to sit down for a second, or something," she advised as she looked around, evidently concerned. "Maybe I can get you guys some water..."

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At first, Slyvia stood there shocked. Slyvia was somewhat aware of Flynn's history and what his behavior could be. It's different to see it, however. Her first reaction was to get out of the way, to move quickly away. However, she froze. Taking a breath, Slyvia stood her ground as she stood near Elijah. glaring the marine in the eyes.

"Fylnn, you need to focus on your breathing, please? Hitting a man in a wheelchair doesn't help anything. Besides, it won't make you feel better."
View attachment 10778

Grabbing his shoulder, she lightly motioned him back. Not being aggressive, but not backing down.



"She's right! Let's all just take seats back in the circle, and just relax. We're all fighting similar issues. We can't be at each other's throats. I, personally, would love some water. How about everyone else? Clark? Mac? Flynn? water for everyone?'"

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"W-Water," he mutters, smacking his lips lightly. He did feel a little thirsty, as he spent the whole time in the circle, well, talking. The least Doctor Staple could've done was provide them something to drink.



View attachment 10779

Clark nods his head quickly, "Water sounds best. I'm worrying over a delusion after all," the journalist lets out a small, nervous chuckle. Though, he turns his attention back to the floor, taking a deep breath.

@Crunch @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

Elijah's self-satisfied smirk only tightened ever so slightly as everyone else all joined together in refuting him. Were he a man of weaker mind and heart, he might have let himself be swept up in the moment and forced to backpedal, but it was clear he had an ego more powerful than his own body.

To Erin's initial question about what he meant by "the way she was before," the frail man merely gave a wry, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose your case is much more far-fetched than the others, Ms. Natick. A talking, walking Picasso painting? A tall mass of shapes? But then, aren't we all like that? A collection of shapes, a mass of cells and atoms? What's a few more squares and colors on your body anyway? Other people have tried to make me feel bad about mine all my life, but I've never let that happen," he said, flashing a toothy grin for the briefest of moments as if self-aware of the outrageous comparison he was making between himself and the entity Natick once thought she was.

To Clark, he clicked his tongue some more, taking an interest in the words he used. "Tsk, tsk... Yes, that's a good word for it. Mediocrity. The most depressing thing you could possibly do in your life is to settle. To be led to believe that you could never aspire to live up to your greatest potential, and to instead resign yourself to what must be fate. But then... I suppose I'm no better in that regard," Elijah mumbled, his lips shifting to a pensive frown. "We all have our roles to play in life. And I know what mine is. Are you confident you can say the same?"

To Eno, the man gave a sidelong glance, dispassionate and intense. He did not care the slightest at the "fabricated" trauma they all believed they had to endure; Eno, Hagusa, Morgan, the lot of them, but not for the reasons one might have expected. "The good doctor isn't wrong on that front. I did have a nasty fall twenty some years ago. It was back when I had met... my own Superman, you could say," he said, giving a knowing glance toward Clark. "A man with great power who saved people. That's the part Staple wants me to forget, but I'll never forget the truth. And you should never have either."

Elijah was about to feel inclined to respond to the others as well, but Flynn. Oh, Flynn. His reaction was what captivated Elijah the most. Even as the hulking marine loomed over Elijah's fragile form, the man showed no fear, not a single trace of cowardice. Elijah said nothing, letting Flynn say his piece.

Instead, even with Flynn up in his face, Elijah's attention was pulled toward Morgan dropping her mug onto the floor, shattering into pieces like his own bones would if he even so much as fell out of his seat. He gave a distant gaze toward the fragile mug, but said nothing of it, instead looking at Michelle, moving his hands to sign his words as he spoke. "I cannot say. How would you feel if you saw someone you care for not living up to their potential?"

He then signed another sentence, one that he did not say aloud. [You will understand in time.]

As Sylvia and Takara attempted to defuse the volatile situation, it was then that Elijah looked back at Flynn, a wide smirk returning to his features like a wicked witch. "Do you feel in control, Mr. Blazkowicz? As much as you were away, doing your duty? Did it feel good to hurt others? To rip and tear them apart?" He said chargedly, as though reacting in proportion to the two women's attempts of defusing. Just as suddenly as it appeared, his smirk disappeared with an intense glare. "I'm not even talking about Iraq. You were doing good work bringing Hell to Hell itself. And now, oh, how sad... A frail little man is giving you this much Hell in turn--"

"Okay, that's enough!" Peter exclaimed, standing up intently. "Erin and Takara are right. We need to cool off, with some water, and to get Dr. Staple back in here. Whatever she's dealing with can wait. Anyone coming with me? Or... well, I guess some of us will have to stay and keep an eye on Elijah too. Who knows what our big scary supervillain will try to pull unsupervised?"

@Jeremi @Josh @Rwac96 @Capri @Yun Lee @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Crunch @Minerva @Takumi @Ottonomous Ghost @York @Everyone​

Grabs at his own hair a bit, gritting his teeth somewhat. The journalist lightly shakes his head, then returns his gaze to Elijah. "There's a clear difference," he spoke up to him, "between aspiring to be extraordinary and accepting a delusion."



Clark slumps in his chair, as many thoughts were filling his mind. The Kansas-Raised man looked conflicted, as he began to ponder on his other self, former self as Elijah alleged. People are always in danger in the world, though, the prospect of the people here, him included, are being lied to by people who are supposed to help them. That certainly made the reporter nervous, his right foot tapping rapidly. Medical professionals wanting to suppress their memories and the truth, it's practices like these that would motivate Lois to investigate.



Supervillain? There was that word again, something that the former catatonic man claimed to be. Though the thought was ridiculous, the possibility that Elijah faked his condition. Maybe, he can come with Peter to get Staple and also some answers from her--

View attachment 10780

The image of his beloved opening a jack-in-the-box, sporting a toy replica of Winslow Schott; the 'Toyman' of his brand of children's toys. Likely for their son...no. He's ten, he'd prefer a game. Maybe it was from him--Then, the 'toy' exploded; destroying their home...and his wife.

"LOIS!!" Clark hollers at the top of his lungs, rising from his seat in alarm; sweat pouring down his face. "Ah," he looks around at his fellow patients, his brows creased in worry. "I...I think I'll stay and keep an eye on Elijah. Make sure he doesn't...do anything."

@Ver @Jeremi @Minerva @Everyone​

"Khada" Jhin - Activity Room
@Ver @everyone

---

Khada continued to sit with his head supported by his hand, his eyes vacant. That was, until, Elijah began spouting all sorts of condescending nonsense. The virtuoso's eyes slowly moved to stare at Elijah as he blabbered. Yet it seemed that he was not looking at Elijah, but through him instead.

You have too many lines.

Rhythmically, Khada began tapping his index finger against his temple in sets of 4.

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four...

"Alright!" Khada exclaimed, abruptly standing up and breaking free from his internal trance. "I've grown tired of this tawdry setting. Allow me to accompany you before I lose any more of my composure."​

When Takara tried to stand between Flynn and Elijah, Hagusa watched with cautious curiosity. At the suggestion of water he opened his mouth to speak. At first nothing came out, but he found his voice eventually.

"...Yeah, water sounds nice." He muttered, only to frown shortly after at how loud it got quickly. Too many people yelling or talking loudly.

Elijah was ignored, for now, as Peter was quick to cut in himself. Hagusa contemplated leaving the room and heading back to his own, but...

"I'll stay." He mumbled. How he saw it, if Takara and Sylvia stayed to try and calm Flynn down while Elijah continued to try and egg him on like this there was a chance things could get worse. Not only that, but...something about Takara trying to stand between the two reminded him of something from back at the Tajima household, a fuzzy half formed memory with blurred faces.

'That's right, she said she had a sister...' he thought, scratching near his left collar bone again for a second. He wouldn't sit back down just yet, a bit too wound up to do so.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Crunch @Josh @Everyone

ERIN NATICK
@Ver @Jeremi @Minerva @Ottonomous Ghost @Takumi @Everyone

There was something off about Erin’s expression, she seemed quite… wary of Elijah after what he said. Anyone looking would see questions lurking in her mind.

Elijah was speaking nonsense, but she knew if she stayed, she would lose herself even more. So she played it safe.

"I’m gonna go see Dr. Staple," she said.

But rushing through her mind was one question: I never said my delusion was tall, especially around Elijah, yet he knew it was. How?​

Flynn breathed - in and out - to the tune of the twin voices ringing in his ear. Takara on one side, and Sylvia on the other, each of them talking him down like they were trying to wrangle an animal that had broken free from containment. Yet, the pounding continued, throbbing in his skull to the temp of the warm blood pumping through his veins - thump, thump, thump. The pounding always began when the visions came. Flynn didn't know what they meant, but he knew how it felt. He knew when it happened, he had to get away from everyone else. He had to get air into his failing lungs.

Dr. Staple called it a severe anxiety attack, likely coinciding with his post-traumatic stress disorder. At the time, Flynn could hardly speak. He wasn't forming words until after the first few weeks of treatment. If he could, though, he'd have called her on her bullshit. Flynn knew guys who were shaken up by the war, and most of them end up like Elijah - quiet, still, only barely alive - but none of them had seen what he saw; the threat that he knew was real.

That was then. This is now. He's having a severe anxiety attack and threatening to beat an old cripple over the head for no reason at all. As Sylvia brushed her fingers over Flynn's shoulder, she could feel a palpable tension in his muscles - like he'd tensed them anymore, they'd snap like rubber bands. After a moment, though, Flynn began to breathe and the tension began to fade.

"... This guy is just a freak," the marine grunted, wiping his mouth and starting to turn away. "Just like everyone else here."


Then Elijah started talking again. Flynn had only heard him speak for a few minutes, and he already hated the sound of his voice. It was what he said that brought the marine to pause in his step as if being frozen in time.

To rip and tear them apart. Rip and tear. Rip and tear, until it is done.

"..."

Flynn's fingers twitch, and his knuckles crack in his skin, folding into a tight fist. His head turns at an angle, looking at the wheelchair-bound Elijah over his shoulder. The thing that Elijah was staring at was a man - but in those eyes was someone that was decidedly not Flynn Blazkowicz. Those eyes, frozen in a chilling, empty stare, could only be hate. An unholy, unbridled, unrepentant rage that had not known peace for God knows how long - only hatred for something. Only hatred for him, at this moment, shared between them.

The thing wearing the marine's skin stared at Elijah for just a few seconds, before the marine rapidly blinked away something in his eye, and his gaze returned to what it was - an angry, confused, troubled man. Flynn scoffed and shook his head. He was done entertaining this freak and his fantasies.

"I'm going to go look for the doctor," he said to no one after Peter had brought it up, shrugging Sylvia and Takara off of himself before trudging away towards the door.

@Ver @Not a Writer @Josh @Everyone​

God, did she really have to choose one or the other? Karina was so uncomfortable at this point that she just wanted to go back to her room and curl up under her covers. Having to remember all the horrible things Karin saw and did...ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh! Could this stupid program be over with already???

No longer as bubbly as she'd been earlier, Karina decided to stay behind while everyone else ran off. Most of the people leaving were the ones who got all worked up over Elijah, and she totally didn't want to be around that. Like, at all. Even with how creepy Elijah could get...maybe she could handle it better?

@Ver @Rwac96 @Takumi @Everyone​

Though this went against his better judgment and it could endanger his mental recovery, something in Clark's mind warned him not to leave Elijah unchecked in the Activity Room. The man gulped, noticing how Khada was counting to four repeatedly, Flynn's demeanor seemed to be becoming severe, especially since he had PTSD, and not to mention the words Elijah was spouting was bringing some form of doubt in the minds of those present. Clark himself included, as he was now getting mental flashes of this 'Superman' and his life; first, it was him saving Lois falling from the Daily Planet. Then, it was Schott bombing their home as if he was a supervillain.

People were now becoming uncomfortable around Elijah, but at the same time, he was talking like a man with a plan. A criminal mastermind, like--

View attachment 10783

"Luthor," Clark adjusts his glasses once more, the (in)famous CEO and founder of LexCorp came into his mind. The matter of the philanthropist was usually Lois' worries whenever she did an investigative report on him. But, in his other life, as Superman, he was a figure who was in a position of power; power that was used to cause chaos.

The journalist shakes his head, no need to focus on that now. His current concern was the man in the wheelchair, and hopefully, anyone who chooses to stay with him and watch over Elijah. Though he was stirring things up, leaving him alone seems wouldn't be better either.

@Ver @Takumi @Capri @Ottonomous Ghost @Everyone​

Deciding to stay with Elijah. Watching Flynn walking off, Sylvia held her hand. The lingering tension she physically felt from him lingered, noticeably worried, her British accent escaped her mouth.
View attachment 10785
"Just be safe, Flynn."

A sigh escaped her mouth, followed by a shake of her head. walking towards a water fountain, Sylvia took her time to fetch water for the ones who need it. The woman was lost in her head, admittedly. Something just didn't feel right. as she gathered all the cups and poured water into them. Walkign to Elijah, Sylvia smile on her face. Giving hima cup of water, she spoke

"Here, take this water. So, if I could change the subject slightly. You seem to know alot about us. You think we're all special? How do you know that and if we're all special, that mean you're special? What makes you special? Having a softer bone structure isn't a traditional superpower. As a Natural historian, it interests me"

@Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Capri @Takumi @Ver @Ottonomous Ghost @staying group


​

This definitely wasn't good. With every passing moment, the young-looking woman felt more and more anxious. It felt like Elijah had singlehandedly turned everyone in the room into ticking time bombs, each ready to go off at any given second. Takara could feel it almost as much as she could see it; the unease, the uncertainty, the questioning of all they'd ever known. All of the effort that the wonderful care team at this facility had put into helping each and every one of them over the course of so much time she couldn't even remember it clearly was now unravelling, like the sweater of a child who simply couldn't help but continue pulling on that one loose thread. As much as she wanted to reassure everyone and help keep them together, she was no doctor. But at least she wasn't the only one in a decent enough state of mind to do their best to intervene. Sylvia and Peter's agreement with her words came as a great relief, and she found her smile coming just a little easier after they spoke.

Though she didn't comment on Sylvia's words to Flynn, for she personally guessed that the man wouldn't actually go that far, she was still glad to have another person beside her in case Elijah ended up provoking him further. Caution never hurt anyone, after all. As for what the other woman said next, she simply nodded. "Exactly," she breathed in agreement with Sylvia, just before Peter practically took the words out of her mouth. "Agreed. If it's alright, I'd...--" Well. Uh. She was gonna say she'd like to help find the doctor, but the words fell away as about half the room chimed in to say they wanted to seek out help themselves, leaving her to blink owlishly before pursing her lips. Welp. So much for that. "I guess I'll just grab everyone that water," she hummed, not showing any sign of disappointment with this development even if it hadn't necessarily been preferred. Before she turned away to fetch some cups, though, she shot Flynn one last meek half-smile. "Just... try not to overdo it. I know you said you wanted a moment alone before. Don't be afraid to stop in your room for a break or something if you need it," she gently advised, before finally doing as he clearly wished and leaving him be.

As she made her way to fetch cups and fill them at the water fountains alongside Sylvia, the woman was fairly quiet, glancing over her shoulder at the group that had chosen to stay several times throughout the process. She wanted to make sure they were alright, after all; it was clear Clark in particular was struggling with what Elijah had said to them, and the words of Hagusa had troubled her very deeply as well. She knew it wasn't the same, knew that her experience wasn't real like his was, but even so... his story had tugged at her heart in a unique way, because it was one she shared. It had all been a delusion, of course; a twisted fantasy her mind had made up in her days in the ICU... but she remembered a time where she had been alone and abandoned, broken and abused by horrible people who paid off her family in order to use her for their experiments. It might've all been an illusion conjured up by a broken mind, but that didn't change how real it felt, or how painful it was to see a child presumably suffering through the same pain of abandonment and abuse. After all, if he was here at such a young age, she couldn't imagine what horrible things he must've gone through.

It felt like proof of the sentiment that so-called Tatsumaki had held so dear. It was pointless to get caught up with others. Nobody else in the world could save you but you. So why bother being there for people who wouldn't show you the same kindness? Why not shut them all out instead, let them know the pain they had all shown you?

"..."

No. She was better than that.

Momentarily lost in those dark thoughts, the woman accidentally crushed one of the plastic cups in her hand, its contents spilling right back into the fountain she'd drawn the water from in the first place. Shit. She needed to refocus herself. Taking a deep breath, she disposed of the crushed cup, carefully picking up the remaining in tact ones and smiling as she moved to pass them out to the patients that had stayed behind. "Thank you for the help, Sylvia," she added to the other woman, sincerely grateful for the assistance. And, honestly, for the fact that she had gone to Elijah. That meant Takara could focus on the other patients and do her best to help them calm down, too. Handing off water to Clark, Hagusa, and Karina in particular, the woman paused to look between each of them with evident concern. "Are you all okay? I know things got a little crazy for a sec, there. If there's anything else I can do, don't be afraid to let me know. And if you aren't sure about what'll help... try to pick something in the room to focus on. Something that isn't Elijah, and isn't you; just an object or person you like, or that interests you, or something." It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would hopefully at least get them out of the negative rut. Of course, as much as she wanted to help, she also fully intended to keep an eye on Elijah as well. Logic said nothing would happen, of course; he was just a guy. A normal person, if a little confused, just like the rest of them. Yet for some strange reason, the look in his eyes set off her danger sense, putting her fight or flight instinct on high. It made the worst part of her want to crush him, not unlike she'd done to that cup earlier. She really hoped that the situation would dissolve soon. She didn't want to deal with her right now... not when she'd finally felt like she'd gotten rid of those terrible tendencies.

@Ver @Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Takumi @Josh @Stayingbackgroup​

Moving his blue eyes to Takara, seeing her holding out a cup of water. Reaching out to grab it, Clark nods his head lightly. "Thank you," bringing the cup to his lips, taking a sip of water. Moving the cup from his face, holding it with both hands as he stares into his drink. "and, well, admittedly, no. I am not okay," he furrows his brows once more; but not into a fierce glare.

"I'm...I'm not sure who's word to trust at this moment. Either I trust the word of a possible maniac," his hands shake a bit, "or trust the words of doctors...doctors who are likely hiding things from us." Clark closes his eyes, bringing the cup to his face to take another sip. "I don't know if this is my reporter's instincts or...well, this Superman's life experience. All that's certain...something isn't right."

@Ver @Not a Writer @Yun Lee @Capri @Ottonomous Ghost @StayingGroup​

Eno Liberi
@Ver @Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Takumi @Josh @Not a Writer @Gummi Bunnies @Stayingbackgroup

"Your own... Superman...?" Eno said, repeating Elijah's words quietly to himself.

His gaze turned to Clark for a moment, recalling the persona he had been rehabilitated of. Though... Clark was far from the only one here who thought they were some kind of hero.

And in some ways, he envied them.

Mephisto was no hero. He was... An abomination, someone twisted both physically and mentally, destined to become a special kind of catastrophe. He shuddered to think what would happen, if he truly was Mephisto.

But yet, he couldn't help but be haunted by Elijah's words. At least until Takara spoke up, her words making him recall someone. Someone who made the very air around her warm, someone who always knew what to say.

She brought him to meet others too, including that cold woman who sang to him, and... There was someone else... Someone who had been there for him since his childhood.

Eno stiffened, realizing he had almost come close to relapsing. Those weren't his memories. Those were Mephistos.

Quickly, he tried to take Takara's suggestion, turning his gaze to his former classmate, Chloe Winders. They were friends, and had been since his childhood.

Though he was somewhat of a loner in school, she was one of the few friends he had made, and kept all this time.

And perhaps... They could return to that life soon.

After all, they were better, right?

It was just Elijah who needed some extra work...

Shaking his head, he took a few deep breaths, and managed a smile.

"Thank you, Takara. I was worried I would relapse again." He said, though he turned to Clark, his expression shifting to more of a frown.

"Perhaps... We shouldn't think about our delusions anymore. We wouldn't want a relapse when our time here's almost done, right?" He added.

But even as he spoke, that uneasy feeling was coming back. Though at least the pain hadn't set in this time.

Just as long as he kept thinking about his life before his delusions, maybe... Just maybe... He'd be fine...​

 

[Takumi]

This definitely wasn't good. With every passing moment, the young-looking woman felt more and more anxious. It felt like Elijah had singlehandedly turned everyone in the room into ticking time bombs, each ready to go off at any given second. Takara could feel it almost as much as she could see it; the unease, the uncertainty, the questioning of all they'd ever known. All of the effort that the wonderful care team at this facility had put into helping each and every one of them over the course of so much time she couldn't even remember it clearly was now unravelling, like the sweater of a child who simply couldn't help but continue pulling on that one loose thread. As much as she wanted to reassure everyone and help keep them together, she was no doctor. But at least she wasn't the only one in a decent enough state of mind to do their best to intervene. Sylvia and Peter's agreement with her words came as a great relief, and she found her smile coming just a little easier after they spoke.

Though she didn't comment on Sylvia's words to Flynn, for she personally guessed that the man wouldn't actually go that far, she was still glad to have another person beside her in case Elijah ended up provoking him further. Caution never hurt anyone, after all. As for what the other woman said next, she simply nodded. "Exactly," she breathed in agreement with Sylvia, just before Peter practically took the words out of her mouth. "Agreed. If it's alright, I'd...--" Well. Uh. She was gonna say she'd like to help find the doctor, but the words fell away as about half the room chimed in to say they wanted to seek out help themselves, leaving her to blink owlishly before pursing her lips. Welp. So much for that. "I guess I'll just grab everyone that water," she hummed, not showing any sign of disappointment with this development even if it hadn't necessarily been preferred. Before she turned away to fetch some cups, though, she shot Flynn one last meek half-smile. "Just... try not to overdo it. I know you said you wanted a moment alone before. Don't be afraid to stop in your room for a break or something if you need it," she gently advised, before finally doing as he clearly wished and leaving him be.

As she made her way to fetch cups and fill them at the water fountains alongside Sylvia, the woman was fairly quiet, glancing over her shoulder at the group that had chosen to stay several times throughout the process. She wanted to make sure they were alright, after all; it was clear Clark in particular was struggling with what Elijah had said to them, and the words of Hagusa had troubled her very deeply as well. She knew it wasn't the same, knew that her experience wasn't real like his was, but even so... his story had tugged at her heart in a unique way, because it was one she shared. It had all been a delusion, of course; a twisted fantasy her mind had made up in her days in the ICU... but she remembered a time where she had been alone and abandoned, broken and abused by horrible people who paid off her family in order to use her for their experiments. It might've all been an illusion conjured up by a broken mind, but that didn't change how real it felt, or how painful it was to see a child presumably suffering through the same pain of abandonment and abuse. After all, if he was here at such a young age, she couldn't imagine what horrible things he must've gone through.

It felt like proof of the sentiment that so-called Tatsumaki had held so dear. It was pointless to get caught up with others. Nobody else in the world could save you but you. So why bother being there for people who wouldn't show you the same kindness? Why not shut them all out instead, let them know the pain they had all shown you?

"..."

No. She was better than that.

Momentarily lost in those dark thoughts, the woman accidentally crushed one of the plastic cups in her hand, its contents spilling right back into the fountain she'd drawn the water from in the first place. Shit. She needed to refocus herself. Taking a deep breath, she disposed of the crushed cup, carefully picking up the remaining in tact ones and smiling as she moved to pass them out to the patients that had stayed behind. "Thank you for the help, Sylvia," she added to the other woman, sincerely grateful for the assistance. And, honestly, for the fact that she had gone to Elijah. That meant Takara could focus on the other patients and do her best to help them calm down, too. Handing off water to Clark, Hagusa, and Karina in particular, the woman paused to look between each of them with evident concern. "Are you all okay? I know things got a little crazy for a sec, there. If there's anything else I can do, don't be afraid to let me know. And if you aren't sure about what'll help... try to pick something in the room to focus on. Something that isn't Elijah, and isn't you; just an object or person you like, or that interests you, or something." It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would hopefully at least get them out of the negative rut. Of course, as much as she wanted to help, she also fully intended to keep an eye on Elijah as well. Logic said nothing would happen, of course; he was just a guy. A normal person, if a little confused, just like the rest of them. Yet for some strange reason, the look in his eyes set off her danger sense, putting her fight or flight instinct on high. It made the worst part of her want to crush him, not unlike she'd done to that cup earlier. She really hoped that the situation would dissolve soon. She didn't want to deal with her right now... not when she'd finally felt like she'd gotten rid of those terrible tendencies.

@Ver @Rwac96 @Yun Lee @Takumi @Josh @Stayingbackgroup​

Hagusa took the offered cup from Takara with a muttered 'thanks', before blinking at something she said.

A person they liked? The first person to come to mind was...Mizuchi. God, it felt like it's been far too long since he saw her. She was a close friend, despite their tendency to argue as well as the fact that she was usually a little on the mean side when they first met.

Blushing, he brought the cup to his lips and drank from it, letting it sit in both of his hands as he glanced into it momentarily.

'When I get out of here, the first people I'll look for is Mizuchi and my sister...' he thought to himself, his blush having subsided. Looking for them was better than seeing Kouto's dumb face in his opinion. Maybe he could ask Dr. Staples if that was possible?

@Ver @York @Not a Writer @Yun Lee @Josh @Rwac96 @staying group

 

[Rwac96]

"Perhaps... We shouldn't think about our delusions anymore. We wouldn't want a relapse when our time here's almost done, right?" He added.

Clark would agree with a 'yes' or 'nod', but instead, he stayed silent and stared intently at his water. Returning it towards his face, the journalist takes another sip. A sigh escapes his lips, lifting his head up and turning to Eno. "We have more pressing matters," he says, gesturing to Elijah for the moment. "Delusions or not, he picked a time to be rather talkative. From my experience in doing articles, investigative ones to be specific." He adjusts his glasses, clearing his throat. "It usually means someone has an agenda," he stops for the moment, taking another sip of his drink. "and so far, he's been...riling us up."

@Ver @York @Takumi @StayingBackGroup​