Nicholas D Wolfwood (
louboutinjudas) wrote in
nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
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Somewhere between July and December
1.
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
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there has to be a door, there has to be more than this. maybe it isn't a lab but there has to be something.
Livio scoffs]
Whoopie-- luck's finally coming my way.
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Still. There's supplies here, whole shelves of paper products and office things and food, tinned and dried and powdered. ]
Keep it coming! We need all the luck we can get.
[ Once the place is clear they should get the car and come back from some of this stuff. Leave a nice surprise for Ms Melanie and the kids for whenever they make it back to the orphanage. ]
You see a lightswitch anyway? I can't see a damn thing back here.
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he manages to laugh, a tiny one]
I don't...you mean they didn't make you to see in the dark?
[he can't either but you know]
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Fuck you no! [ He laughs back, whistling past the graveyard. If you can't laugh at the shared tortures you and your bestie survived, then the torturers win, or something like that, right? ] They gave me a big brain and a big dick, they didn't have time to mess with my eyes.
[ He can see better in the dark than most people, but it's pitch black at the back of the warehouse -- the only light is what's coming from that open door, and it's still night outside. But Wolfwood'll make his way through the shelves and stacks to the very back wall, and report back once he gets there. Fingers crossed nobody starts shooting in the meantime. ]
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Wolfwood's response has him snorting rudely--]
They clearly lied to you and gave you fragile bones instead, bonehead.
[he can't see completely within this darkness, but he can make out shapes, eyes adjusting to the light better than someone normal would. and he's picking his way more easily through the area, not bumping into anything]
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Blame that big stupid worm! That thing voided my warranty.
[ He doesn't have his lighter anymore, but he's got some matches, swiped from the orphanage kitchen drawer -- thanks, Ms Melanie, again. He strikes one, and in the sudden flare of light, he can see the back wall clearly.
There's a really big cage against the back wall of the warehouse. It's thankfully empty, but the dried blood on the floor -- and the bucket in the far corner -- say that there was somebody in here within the last, oh, six months or so. There's a lot of dried blood, actually. More than one person died in here.
There's a set of double doors in the wall not far from the cage, an elevator, and a third door that leads to a stairwell. Wolfwood isn't checking those doors yet, though. he's still stuck at the cage, and the story that mess is telling. ]
Shit.
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that's a lot of blood. people were tortured here, they died here, they were unmade here. Livio is silent for a moment, then he gently snags the sleeve of Wolfwood's jacket.]
Come on. We can't do anything standing here.
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He yanks his sleeve roughly out of Livio's grip, but the point is made. They can't do anything for the dead, other than add to their numbers.
Fuck it.
He can't kick the double doors open with his broken leg (well, he can, but he doesn't want to), so instead Wolfwood drops the match, raises Punisher, and slams the butt of the long arm into the doors. They fly open with a crash, revealing a branching hallway that heads off in three directions. At least here there's windows at the ends of two of the corridors, where a little moonlight filters in. ]
Come out, come out, wherever you are!
[ There's no response. The place really might be deserted! ]
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he lifts one of his Doublefangs, scoots into the hall, and swivels--]
Hmmm...I feel a little dumb.
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Still, looks like all that sneaking was for nothing. There's nobody here! ]
Dumb nothing, I'm fuckin' disappointed. Where is everyone?!
[ Doesn't this place have emergency lights? Surely there's a switch somewhere for that kind of thing, right? C'mon, buddy, let's head down one of those corridors with a window so at least they can see where they're going. ]
How the fuck am I supposed to shoot these assholes if they aren't here!
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[he adds dryly. granted, he wanted to cut loose too, but as far as expectations go, this isn't the worst.]
Might still be something here. We'll keep going.
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They taught me how to get shot a lot, what'd you think?
[ He's laughing still, without bothering to keep his voice down anymore. If anyone's here and they want to come confront the intruders, they're welcome to it... and if anyone hears them coming and tries to scurry away, well, he's listening hard for them, too.
He flings open the first door they pass without preamble, and peers into the darkness. It's a smallish room, with a big table and a bunch of chairs. A meeting room of some kind, maybe? ]
Nothing.
[ Damn. ]
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Livio's tense all the way down the hall, through the darkness, through the slivers of moonlight, and when there's nothing?]
.....Jeez.
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You know, when I heard processing facility, I was thinking more torture and less paperwork.
[ Even if there was anybody here, they'd just be clerks and secretaries, wouldn't they? Maybe they'd get lucky and find a security guard, have a half a second fight instead of no fight at all. ]
Dammit!
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[he's disappointed about the lack of fighting but also kind of relieved he hasn't seen anyone already dead, either.
but who does torture and paperwork within earshot of the water cooler? The eye, apparently]
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Would I rather get electrocuted for an hour or write reports for an hour. [ Honestly, it's a hard choice! ] You know, I might take gettin' zapped. At least it'd be less boring, right?
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[that'd be
not boring either, sure]
If you say so.
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[ C'mon, here's a stairwell. It's got windows all up the side so at least it's not pitch black -- let's see what's on level two of this stupid place. ]
See, I was just thinkin' regular zaps, like those tomas prod things. You ever get hit with one of those shock sticks? I had an instructor who loved 'em.
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[at least he can say this breezily like commenting on the weather oh look, there's a storm a'coming--oh no, my juevos]
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[ They're making enough noise as they tromp up to the second story that it's possible they miss the quiet sound of a heavy door shutting somewhere on that floor. Wolfwood sure doesn't hear it. He's too busy being traumatized at the idea of some asshole cooking Livio's scrote. ]
I hope this story's got a happy ending, where you threw that bastard off a cliff.
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Oh, he's definitely deader than a doormouse or whatever. I think he was happy when I finished it.
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Wolfwood's sure not thinking about it, though. Wolfwood's thinking about what he'd consider a sufficient punishment for some of their more torture-happy instructors.
...Actually, as he approaches the second story door, the one that'll lead from the stairwell into the building, he's thinking about something even more important. ]
What the fuck is a door mouse anyway?
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Livio's straining his hearing as far as he can, because there's this feeling that...something's up]
A mouse?
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[ A reputation only lasts so long when people are starving though. Was this place really so hidden that nobody knew it was here? ]
Did they live in doors? How's that even possible?
[ If there is someone on this level, they're not making any noise at the moment... unless Livio can hear heartbeats through walls?
The stairwell door opens up into another hallway, this one with art on the walls and ornate light fixtures on the walls (that aren't powered on, but the fine metals and detailed designs can just be barely seen in the moonlight). Wolfwood whistles low, stepping out onto that plush carpeting. ]
Look at this fancy shit.
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[the same ones they read to Wolfwood, probably.
Livio cannot hear heartbeats, things are silent as the grave. he still doesn't like it. he's nearly distracted by everything-- all this fancy shit indeed.]
....Maybe they had data meetings here? Something has to be...underground or something.
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