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Brune doesn't look at Alex; his expression has gone terse and cold, unmoving, as he contemplates the eerie black stone on the floor of the office. His steady surgeon's hands are trembling on his wheels. "We need to get away from this place," he says, in a flat, forcibly emotionless voice. "We don't understand half of what we're up against. He does."
Darrion takes one look at the paper and jumps like the floor turned to lava. Upon landing, he tries with only partial success to steady his breathing, then wordlessly moves to shove the paper at Doc's face
Brune pushes the paper away, uncharacteristically. He swivels and rolls swiftly back towards the way they came with forceful, rapid pushes on the wheels, trembling, not even looking to see if the others are following him. His voice is utterly monotone, speaking rapidly. "I cannot do this. I cannot. I should never have allowed myself this. To deserve companionship is a privilege I no longer have any right to possess. You were all placed in danger because of my selfish desire to be forgiven."
"I am no use to any of you!" Brune barks back. His face is white and sheened with sweat; there is panic growing in his eyes. "I am a monster! The Rivaille grasps for me because it knows what I am!"
Brune's chest is heaving with the rapid gasps of a panic attack. He swivels back and resumes vigorously rolling away, tears in his eyes, not looking back.
Darrion slides to block Brune's retreat. "You saying that proves you care. Caring proves you are human." He musses his hair, eyes darting wildly, then summons something from a poster "You have inherent value no matter what because you are human"
"Doc, I'm a blasted grad student. Alex does computers. Jack... We need you because you're the one of us - us who got them dreams - who knows how to fix people."
[if Darri goes too awkwardly monology/this doesn't make sense for me to say, shut me up]
Brune slows to a stop, shaking badly, his breath coming in tight gasps. "Darrion," he says, strained; he seems unable to muster the strength to push past him. Then, after a painful pause: "Lad." Another pause. "I can't..."
Brune looks up at Jack for a moment with an expression of immense agony, as if fighting an intense internal battle, and then some part of him seems to prevail and he wordlessly sags in the chair as if all the fire and fight has abruptly drained out of him. "Out," he murmurs, weakly. "Let's get out of here."
Brune seems to not be able to muster any coherent words; he has slumped in the chair in defeat and is merely allowing himself to be pushed wherever Jack wants to take him.
Darrion tries to sooth himself with the rhythm of the group's sounds of walking - shoes hitting the floor, a slight dinging from the wheelchair when it hits an uneven spot.
Something in Brune seems to stir to life again at the vague feeling that Darrion needs comfort, and he murmurs in a weak attempt at humor, "I don't think Mr. Rivers's vehicle has many spiders in it, Mr. Darrion."
"Just here, just here." Darrion gets Doc to the door of the car, reconsiders, backs up a bit, then opens the door again before pushing the chair closer. "This good?"
Brune hauls himself into the car, with some effort, and strains to fasten his seatbelt. He stops and stares at the seatbelt for a long moment, as if unable to comprehend its purpose, and then resumes struggling. "I don't recall it being foggy when we arrived," he says, in a more normal voice, suddenly seeming to come back to himself a little.
Jack, as you begin to drive everyone towards the campus, I'm going to need a Drive check due to the fog. Anyone can make an Occult check of Extreme difficulty or a Cthulhu check to figure out what's up with the fog.
Brune stares out the window at the fog with a melancholy quiet about him, as if he's deep in his thoughts. His mind is full of churning thoughts, a din of noise, and above all the noise in his mind is a single, repetitive sound: Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeep.
You find yourselves trundling along down quiet New Rivaille streets, slowly making your way through the fog, carefully avoiding the few other vehicles on the road. After a little while it becomes apparent that somewhere along the line, you must have taken a wrong turn. You find yourselves lost in the fog, driving down unfamiliar streets in New Rivaille.
@bobble Does Darrion check his phone, or are you relying on notifications?
Brune's mouth presses into a tight line. His eyes flick anxiously around the windows as if expecting the fog to suddenly close in around them. "Watch for trees," he says.
"Are you thirsty, Alex? I think I have a spare water bottle in here..." Darrion fishes around to see if he remembered to grab another minibottle after the last one was used up
@Ginger Make a Spot Hidden check with a bonus die.
You have another twenty minutes or so of wandering around in the fog before eventually coming to a place you recognize and, the fog thinning slightly, you can make it to the campus at exactly the time that the meeting is supposed to start.
Brune's whole body relaxes when the campus comes into view, and his trembling seems to ease. His anxiety about the car trip seemed like a different kind of anxiety than his usual kind, as if something else is fueling it. "I visited once or twice, lad. What does it look like?"
@Ginger During the long drive, in the fog, you're positive you saw shapes... swooping through the sky, almost hidden due to the fog, stopping at one spot high above the road for a few minutes and then swooping on.
Brune looks back at the car as they depart, with a strange look on his face. His words echo in his mind: Watch for trees. His eyes flick down to his chair, and he shakes it off.
The campus is a bastion of normalcy in your current state. Students mill around, even in the fog, moving from one building to another, wandering in packs around the grounds, and studying. Something does seem off, but you're all in a rush or otherwise preoccupied, so it only registers as a footnote in the back of your mind for the moment.
Darrion flies down the hall, up the bookcase, and into the conference room. Bursting in, panting, you notice to your surprise that it is in fact Dr. Bardot herself who is standing in front of the room, giving you a stern look as you interrupt whatever she was saying.
@Ginger You've dealt with some IT issues here before. You know that there's a fridge in one of the rooms downstairs that's used for storing drinks and snacks for guest presenters.
"As I was saying, this new project is of, to quote, "paramount importance", and builds on the research that we have been conducting here for the past few semesters. While this shift in priorities may come as a surprise, I am sure that you are extremely qualified and with handle this pivot with professionalism and the utmost competence."
@AncientSwordRage Brune looks up at Jack quickly with something like a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, as if he didn't mean to let that slip out and doesn't want to discuss it. "I shouldn't have said it. It was entirely not intended as a reflection on your driving capabilities."
Brune's expression shifts and goes unreadable, and he seems to struggle for words for a moment. "It was a foolish thing to say," he says, at length, deflecting. "We should join Darrion."
"I will be hand-selecting students for specific lab work and specialized assignments shortly. Please note that due to the volatility of certain substances that we will be working with, any students not specifically authorized by myself will under no circumstances be allowed to interact with certain of the experiments that we will be conducting research upon."
@AncientSwordRage Brune flushes slightly under the collar - this time seeming to be less of a trauma response and more something like how you would react if someone brought up an embarrassing thing you did in college. He avoids Jack's eyes as the elevator dings open. "I don't like to discuss what put me in a chair, Mr. Rivers," he says, and rolls out into the hallway without waiting for a reply.
"You are still expected to continue with any ongoing long-term experiments that we have ongoing, with no interruption in the regular reports and writeups. These additional projects, while they do take priority, will not be as long-term, and students' involvement will be for no more than several weeks at a time. Are there any questions, my chick-a-dees?"
@Ginger You are stopped by someone who you vaguely recognize as a teacher. "Hey, pal, you're the IT guy, no? D'you know why my phone isn't working? I can't seem to make any calls."
(in case anyone is wondering where the name came from: his name was Hiram and then it got bungled in the immigration paperwork. yes i came up with useless backstory for random labmate. fight me.)
Brune tunes out of the lecture after the first five words - which, he thinks with a flicker of amusement, is unusual for someone who paid rigorous attention in medical school - and lets his head fall slightly onto his chest, his eyes sliding half-shut as he ruminates on what Antonelli told them. The black stone swims through his mind. The Rivaille... the island... destroy it... nuclear power plant... His eyes suddenly widen as a connection snaps together. ...nuclear accident...
@Ginger "It just says I have no service. I've tried restarting it, nothing helped." He points off to a room nearby. "Snack room's in there, but I don't think that'll help with my phone."
"Uh, sorry. Does the WiFi work, or any computers that are directly connected to the campus network? Cell service doesn't seem to be working for... well, anyone, actually"
As they speak, they move down the hallway towards the aforementioned snacks
Darrion, you notice Brune once again appearing to be distressed next to you. You have about five minutes until your presentation - are you prepared?
@Ginger The teacher hurries after you. "I don't think so, everyone's been complaining about it. People were looking for you to see if you could fix it."
...Good God, I shouldn't have listened to them. I shouldn't have let them convince me to stay. Brune's gaze flicks over to Darrion, with a haunted look; suddenly all he can picture is Darrion lying in a hospital bed, his heart monitor beeping, and that sound pinging again in his mind makes him tremble. Antonelli was right. The best thing I can do to protect him is to go back where I belong. Why am I staying?
Hirim finishes his presentation and sits back down. There are a couple ticks of the clock before the next student realizes that they're supposed to give their updates now, and gets up with a hurried scrape of the chair.
...By God, I know why I'm staying. I'm a coward. As always. And I think I deserve them. Some part of me still believes I can be saved. Brune's head falls back down to his chest in silent defeat. Here sits a man with a noose around his neck, deluding himself into believing this can end well for any of us.
The student finishes their updates, and the next student begins. Darrion, you notice Dr. Bardot scanning the room - she has apparently noticed Brune, who apears to be falling asleep in his chair, but hasn't commented on anything.
"My most recent simulations suggest that our prototype inhibitor can successfully bind to abnormal endothelial cells to suppress overproliferation caused by side effects of..." Darrion drones on for a minute about the drug his simulations were for, which was intended to be added to an existing combination with odd side effects, "... which provides a solid theoretical backing for Dr. Ye's proposed clinical trial. Uh, that's all."
Hearing Darrion speak startles Brune back into some semblance of awareness, and he seems to sharpen up and pay close attention, despite having that strange emptiness in his expression again.
Did we really go back in time at one point? Jack's musing continues, Maybe that wasn't present day Bea in the email? His face scowling to correctly place the order of events needed for that
@Ginger You find Jack standing outside of a door, scowling at something. Through a panel in the door you can see Darrion standing in front of the room.
The other students have definitely noticed that other people have entered with Darrion. Around ten minutes later, students start filing out, allowing Darrion and the rest of you to speak with Dr. Bardot.
Brune rolls forward instinctively as Darrion approaches Dr. Bardot, remembering her infamous shortness and wanting to be present as a buffer just in case.
"The weather was out of our driver's control, Doctor," Brune says, subtly shifting his chair to help shield him. "We were a bit sidetracked. It was not Mr. Jenny's doing."
"I see." Dr. Bardot turns to Jack. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Dr. Bardot, Darrion's supervisor here, and punctuality is a core value here. I expect better in the future. Now, Mr. Jenny, what was your question?"
