2019-10-01 - A Different Kind of 8x8 Cell

Well, this sucks. Alexander has been walking down the featureless corridor long enough to move from afraid, to angry, and now to just tired. And resigned. And tired. He drags his feet like he has lead weights attached to them, his t-shirt and sweats sticking to him from the sweat of his breaking fever as he reaches for the buttons. "C'mon, c'mon. Why can't I ever have a nice dream? Books. A warm beach? Maybe a giant riding parrot?" He's muttering it under his breath as he jabs the button again and again.

The elevator light above lights. The faintly bluish florescent light in the hallway doesn't flicker but pulses just below full frequency so it visually drones on and on as he waits.

And waits...

... aaaaand waits.

Then the doors open to a 5x7 paneled room with a tired looking Joe Kelly inside slouched against the wall near the buttons eyes closed and murmuring an obscenity under his breath. Opening his eyes here's recognition but a total lack of surprise to see Alexander Clayton. "You again... I'm guessing you're not feeling so hot either."

If Joey isn't surprised, Alexander visibly is. He blinks a couple of times at the slouched Kelly. "Really?" A tilt of his head towards an unseen heaven. "Yeah, fuck you too," he mutters, skywards. Then hunches his shoulders and shuffles inside the elevator to peer at the buttons. "I feel like shit. You look like shit. At least there's symmetry." Although, honestly, Alexander looks better than he did the other night - just exhausted, but no longer fever-flushed and nearly incoherent with sickness. He peers at Joey. "What stage are you in? Apparently, this thing lasts about ten to eleven days."

Joey rolls his eyes ceilingward as the doors close. He growl-grumbles, "Yeah, fuck me apparently." He sighs and punches the button two more times with his thumb. The question brings a deep sigh and the boxer mururs, "Six days since.. I was in that hotel with Sutton and Ruiz." He pauses realizing how that sounds and cracks an eye to look at the rent-a-snoop, "Not like that. To follow up on some shit..." He pauses and murmurs, "He get you sick too?" Realizing the obvious a hand lifts waving it off, "Doesn't matter.

The elevator passes floor 9...8....7... Why were they up this high? How high was his building?
With a shudder and a flicker of lights there is a screech of metal on metal.

"I didn't think it was anything like that, Kelly," Alexander says, calmly. "Although it's not really any of my business if it was. They're both attractive and adult and presumably capable of making those sorts of decisions for themselves." He opens his mouth again to start to answer the question, but then Joey waves it off. His mouth closes with a snap and he eyes the elevator. "Why are we even in this horrible office building? I don't have a deep rooted fear of bureaucracy." He gives Joey a sidelong look - and then curses out loud as the elevator starts to drop. He loses his balance and falls to the floor with a painful thump, hand scrabbling uselessly for the hand rail. "What the fuck!" He reaches out for the panel, reaching for his abilities to try and read the electrical flow of the elevator.

There's nothing there. His abilities are gone. At least for the moment.

Joey slides a dry look to Alexander with that why do I fucking care?! loo. Looking around he murmurs, "I dunno. I the going to the damn doctor. They always give out bad news." Like the elevator going out and there? There's the drop. His head spins and his hand lashes out to grab the hand rail crouching. And as quick as it starts the breaks try to kick in with a maddening SKREEEEEEEEEEEE

Awesome.
He might just lose his lunch again. Again.

The light above flickers and Joey's hand stays out while he stays there on the balls of his toes. "Oooooh shit oh shit oh shit... Dude, y'ok?" For a guy that never breaks a sweat he looks damn well concerned! Eyes wide and dilated he searches up and for the lights. All the lights for floors are out presently.

Alexander lays there for a moment. He's tired, okay? And checking for broken bones. Finding none, he groans and grabs the railing, using it to drag himself up to a standing position. "I'm not dead," he says after a moment. It is, of course, very dark in the elevator, and he can't even feel if there's any electricity HERE, much less what the state of things are. "Now we at least know the horrible nightmare part of this little excursion," he mutters, and feels his way towards the panel. He reaches down to where the alarm and call buttons should be, and tries to find and press them. "What about you? Are you injured, Kelly?"

Joey offers a hand tentatively out to Alexander to helm him pull himself back up. Heart racing he announced the obvious, "Well... it stopped." He pauses and with a wince his head swims, and the room shakes with it. Ugh. As for the power? The power feels.. dead. Disconnected. There is that overwhelming forboding sense of being cut off and alone.

The question bounces around hte room and the noises beyond the room of the world outside fade away. "I'm... " He looks around and crosses to the doors and bangs on the doors with a fist "Hey someone wanna open this?? We're suck in here" There's a pause and no sound beyond bringing the boxer to start to pace the space like a caged creature. "It's fine right People are coming."

Alexander doesn't scream, or punch Joey, when he feels that hand brush against him. He does shy away from it, pressing himself against the wall to avoid touching the other man. "Kelly," his voice is hoarse and determinedly calm. "I'm pretty sure we're lost. If something comes, it probably won't be on our side." He would be pacing, but Joey has started doing that, and the chance of running unexpectedly into the other man is too high. Especially when he can't feel him. Only follow the sounds of his footsteps. So Alexander slides into a corner. "And the power seems to be entirely dead, so trying to wire this damned thing isn't going to work. If I had my abilities, I could try to jumpstart it, or power the doors enough to get them open, but..." He takes a deep breath, looks up. "Do you remember what corner the repair hatch was in? Did this elevator even have one?" It's not like Dream elevators have an OSHA.

No OSHA, and no cavalry. The boxer's feet scuffle on he ground and then stop. "I don't remember seeing one. You wanna try holding me up I can try to force a way out? That the plan cause..we can't stay in here." Looking around he muses, "Unless someone's coming, but I'm not against tearing this thing apart." The fist comes to the wall impatiently bouncing off the steel and when he does the room rocks a bit like the elevator wants to drop again. There's a smell of grease and dust that seems to hang with that funn smell that elevators have.

"Like tools and shit?" His is how he interprets ability apparently. "Well we don't. We're fucking trapped and without power and we're not... fucking going anywhere." There's a moment taken to stop and compose himself which, thanks to three years, he's gotten much better at.

Alexander makes a sound when the room rocks. "We don't know what happened, so be careful with banging things, Kelly. God only knows what's even holding this fucking thing up." A vision dances in his head of this whole room held by one fraying metal fabric like some sort of B action movie. He goes silent at the suggestion, but after a moment, voice tense, says, "Sure. I can do that. Probably." He goes to one knee and reaches out for Joey to try and guide him over to where the guy can boost up with his help. And Alexander is actually pretty decently built, so he doesn't just fall over and collapse, despite post-fever exhaustion.

"Not...tools. Although I usually carry a swiss army knife. Uh. Do you actually not know what I meant, or are you just fucking with me? I can't always tell." It sounds mildly apologetic. "But we'll find a way out. Just relax, okay?"

Joey murmurs something that might be the tip off when he says tersely, "Well I'm not carrying a car battery and fucking jumper cables on me or a pry bar. I know you guys have this mental image of me and all but I seriously don't just keep gear on me man." For all the wold if there's subtle inference to be had it looks like he's missing it entirely. He said he lives with a ghost!? It's a question to boggle the mind. "That's great. If you got a Swiss army knife I'm gonna need it." He pauses and boggles, "Wha? Just... pass me the knife and let's get out of this... fucking... tiny room..." He pauses and through teeth but in every effort to be patient and fair asks, "Please."

Alexander stares in the dark. Not that he can see anything. "I didn't think you were...Kelly." An exasperated breath. "And no. I usually carry one, but I don't right now, because I'm having bursts of homicidal behavior, and that's usually not a good thing to mix with a goddamned knife. Even a small one." He considers Joey. "...you don't like closed spaces, do you." He sighs. "That's...great. Just great." There's the quiet thunk of the back of his head gently hitting the metal wall of the elevator. "Okay. Okay. It's okay. We'll manage. Do you have actual panic attacks, Kelly, or is this manageable?" There's no judgment in it; it's brisk, just like he's trying to put together a dossier of what's going to have to be dealt with.

Joey doesn't even sound mad when Alexander says he didn't bring the god loving multi-tool. It wins a murmur of, "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He did almost get murdered sorta. The sound of several deep breaths follow as he is, admirably, keeping his shit controlled. Deep breaths Kelly. He doesn't answer but to growl back, "Yeah sorry for inconveniencing you." Deeeep breaths. he's trying to stay peaceable but when you cage wild animals there is a standoff. Tear the elevator apart and fall who knows how many stories, or control thy shit. He murmurs, "You ever been trapped before?"

Alexander grits his teeth; the air whistles out between his teeth as he tries his own variety of deep breathing. "That's not what I meant," he says, carefully. "I'm just trying to figure out the resources we have and the ones that we need to get out of here." He takes another deep breath and edges around to reach up to feel at the roof of the elevator. "I've been buried alive a few times? In a straitjacket a couple of times. Holding cells. Not long term." He makes grimace, unseen. "Which means this is probably your nightmare, not mine. Has something like this happened to you before, or is it an aftereffect of the incarceration?"

Joey stays moving to keep himself doing something. Anything really. "Yeah. I'm trying to think about that too. Damn... cold had my head stuffed up and I'm too damn unfocused and... we can't get out and-" He simply stops talking and then the footsteps stop. The sigh comes and he sits in the opposite corner . Has it been 15 minutes or 45? There's no sign of the outside world.

"Both. I guess? Being put in teh hole... well it sucks. Just being entirely cut off like that makes me feel seen all over again." There's a pause and since Alexander knows enough sums up, "Can only stand to listen to so much you can't do shit about before it does things to ya." With a pause and without judgement only curiosity he asks, "Why'd they put you in a damn jacket anyways?"

"We'll figure out a way to get out, Kelly. There's always a way out - these things, these places, they just want to hurt you and make you afraid. They're nasty sonsofbitches, but there's always a way out...or there always has been," Alexander mutters, all too aware of the people who go missing in Gray Harbor and never come back. He continues to roam around, although avoids Joey's corner. He investigates every seam of the elevator with his hands, looking for weak spots or places where leverage might break something open.

"That's true. Being a helpless witness to things you can't do anything about is one of the worst things," he agrees, quietly. At the question, he shrugs, unseen. "I had an incident when I was about 14. I got lost, came back, couldn't figure out if I was actually back in the real world, hurt a couple of people." It's just rapid fire - there's some shame there, but it doesn't stop him from answering, just makes the words come faster like he doesn't want to think about them too much. "Why'd you end up in the...hole?"

Joey leaves his eyes open and stares forward. It's dark. There's no point in trying to turn his head when it's uncomfortable. The longer Alexander talks though the more stationary the elevator becomes and the less it sways. Keep talking Clayton. Knees draw up and his arms hang in a loose halo around them. "That's some shit man. I mean... it's hard to come out of a combat survival situation back into pedestrian life. Anything at that point can still be a fucking threat."

The question of why did he end up in the hole draws a sigh. "Why'd I end up in the hole... beeeecause sometimes we don't know who the bad people are, but sometimes we do. Sometimes you gotta take the fall to protect the people that don't deserve getting hurt to take out the reckless mother fuckers doing more damage. " He sighs and murmurs, "One more human piece of shit who won't be a threat to people no more. I ain't losing sleep over it. And maybe other people don't either. Sucke, but... people don't listen and the bullshit don't change. It never... fucking changes man." There's a disgruntled tired sound that rumbles in his chest, and he asks, "They won't never let us change neither, man. You know that right? To them you'll always be a fruitcake and I'm just a piece of shit. It's just how shit is."

Alexander sighs, his explorations finding nothing that stands out to him. Times like this, he wishes he'd read more books on engineering and fewer on blood spatter analysis. But he slides down into the corner across from Kelly, and takes a seat. "No one saw it as a combat situation, Kelly. Just delusions. And I was hurting people. Someone had to stop me before I could do more damage. I'm not going to lie, I wish they'd done it with a hug and a long, understanding talk, but I don't blame them for it." A pause. "I don't blame them much."

The rest? He listens to it. His expression is impossible to make out in the dark. "That's dangerous thinking, you know. To others, obviously. But to you, too. When you start seeing yourself as taking on the burden of hurting or killing people who you think deserve it. Or who someone else tells you deserve it." He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knee. "And I don't know. People change. They grow. Some grow strange. Some grow badly. Others grow up and out. What do you want to be, Kelly?"

Joey rests the back of his head against the wall with a thus and thinks about that a while. There's a lot of memory in that space that seems to start putting textures on teh panels. The texture of the walls forming new texture maybe part of some larger mosaic? Tiled perhaps? It's too dark to see a picture. "That?" Brace for the snide comment...3...2...1... Yeah none. There is some note of empathy on that, "That sounds scary as shit. Fourteen? Fuuuuck dude. "

Fingers rub his head and the elevator is a bit humid; a bit stifling. It's the fever in respective locals bleeding in, making memory go back, and making sweat go through t-shirts and hoodies. "Preeeeetty sure there's no gray area to worry about on human trafficking, man. But I dunno man. Left alone in peace? Just want my neice to not have to be afraid of the same bullshit we had to worry about growing up in. " Hand slaps on the dark and he pulls himself up to a stand. "What do you want to be, Clayton?"

Alexander laughs, lightly. "It wasn't fun. But this is Gray Harbor. Not a lot of people had great lives here. You may have noticed." His voice is dry, and not without sympathy of its own. He keeps his eyes on the place where he thinks Joey is, frowning when the other man stands up. There's the urge to do likewise, to just not be down here when Joey's up there. But he refrains, for the moment. "Human traffickers are scum, sure." No disagreement there. "And those aren't bad aspirations. Your niece seems like a nice kid."

The last question pauses him for a bit. "Not crazy?" he says, at last. "Someone else?" A shrug. "Unrealistic desires. I suppose I want to...make things better. In some fashion. Create order out of chaos. All of that happy horseshit. Also unrealistic, but at least it keeps me occupied."

This is Gray Harbor all right. Joey stands still gathering his collective shit as getting stressed out seems to only destabilize the damn elevator. "Yeaaaaaah. You can say I did some first hand research there." He lets the words of agreement fall. In an idyllic sense he's love for Alexander to be right but people have access to only what they have to work with. "Yeah she's a pretty great kid. She's got enough to worry about in this world beside those shitheads."

He pauses and listens to Alexander's answer. The words come less as a challenge and less dismissive than what one could generally anticipate from him. "Yeha, well maybe you're not crazy. Maybe other people are fucking cowards and are too afraid you're right. You ever think of that?" Taking a deep breath he murmurs reluctantly, "Yeah... I want things to be better too."

Alexander remains seated. And tense - he doesn't necessarily like someone in the dark, standing over him, but honestly? Standing up isn't going to make him feel much better, either. "How old is she? What's her name?" He might have an unpleasantly broad knowledge of the local criminal associations, but honestly, if they haven't killed someone, committed a crime, or been a victim of either, Alexander doesn't know much about his fellow Harbor citizens.

And if Joey isn't dismissive, Alexander's self-mocking snort is. "I'm crazy, Joey. I'm better at managing it now than I was at your age." A pause. "Except when infected by the ghost of my ancestor, apparently. Asshole." He thumps his head against the elevator. "But still crazy." He falls silent for a long time, after that. "Psychoreactive environment. Everything in these places is psychoreactive - do you ever wonder if it's a deliberately cultivated construct, or if only the greater environment is structured while the details and manifestations are projections by our own subconscious minds, filling some sort of primal void with form, substance, and psychological import?"

Joey focuses on teeh kiddo. Not his. Doesn't matter. That's tiny family. The elevator shifts like it's leaning back into track as Alexander asks and this happens. "Jesse. My cousin Everly's kiddo. She's gonna be five." He pauses and considers the kid rather than that feeling of being just trapped. He murmurs, "Yesterday she told me she wants to be a dinosaur when she gets older. I told her live long enough and she will be."

"Yeah. Ghosts are usually pretty rude. or maybe we just hear from the rude ones cause the rest all be minding their shit elsewhere." He pauses and listens adding, "Let's go back to I got my GED in prison and start that over." He pauses and tries to take apart what's being said and grab onto the parts he can make sense of, "You mean is this like something that's been here or like... are we building it as we go based on whatever shit we're bringing with us?"

Alexander tilts his head to one side as he feels that shift. Not that anyone can see it, but his expression is thoughtful. He reaches out to place a hand on the wall of the elevator, like he might feel the machinery or whatever strange mechanisms make dream-elevators run. He makes a noise, filing away Joey's response and the elevator's reaction. Instead of addressing it in order, he starts with the last part. "Exactly right, Kelly. Growing up, I always figured that something was creating these lost spaces specifically for me. To hurt me, or to try and get me to hurt other people. But - in the past few months, I've been dragged into a number of them that aren't...about me. And it makes me wonder. Do the dolorphages actually plot out every detail of these things, creating a specialized tour of horrors for every victim, or do they just create the space out of something that, uh, responds to what's inside of us. And then we do the rest to ourselves."

On that cheery note, he turns to look up towards where he thinks Joey is standing. He's probably off by a few inches, but no one can see him staring into blank space like a doofus. "I'm going to experiment. Sorry." Then he says, briskly, "I'm pretty sure you've been lying to me about Collins. If you didn't kill him, I think you know who did." A pause. "Well, who committed the actual act. We both know who's ultimately responsible."

The closer to center Alexander pulls Joey in this conversation the closer to middle and in track the elevator seems to get, or at least the less distressed the environment seems to get as a result. he's not wrong and there is a psychoreactive response. Getting the boxer to calm down is not the easiest thing, but being a man who is a borderline anxiety elemental makes that easily identifiable for Alexander.

And then Alexander hits Joey for a reaction and there's a squeak as the breaks of the elevator give a tad but hold. There is stillness and silence. Joey agrees, "Yeah, Lukas Collins is responsible." Likely not what Alexander is driving at but what Joey honestly believes. He's not angry even or defensive. It seems to be how the dust settles in his world. A curiosity in its own right certainly.

Alexander makes that thoughtful sort of noise again. "This is, in some ways, an ideal interrogation environment," he muses, sounding amused. "Except for the fact that I'm not keen on falling to my death."

Now, carefully, he does rise, sliding his way back up to the handrail, then standing. "So, while I disagree with your assignment of blame, we'll let it stand." The tap tap tap of his fingers on the wall. "What kind of dinosaur does Jesse want to be? Velociraptor? Or something large enough to crush Tokyo?"

Joey sighs and shrugs looking around in the dark like an idiot even though there's nothing to see. "Yeeeeeah," he begins thoughtfully, "You also overestimate me giving any shits one way or another about people who are piece of shit human beings I have no interest or business in. Not all of us have the luxury of being... ...fuck I forget what it's called, but a fucking Donnie Do-gooder, man."

There are sounds of the cables straining and one side slowly drops and the other side catching up. Is... is it moving? The question of dino type gets a laugh, "Eeeeh I think a raptor that can stomp Tokyo. I'm pretty certain Tokyo means the back yard though. Man I should do that for her. The fake explosions and flying Barbies could be damn cool." Lights flicker and come up so much as emergency lighting does.

After a long quiet time he looks up to the faint light as it flickers and down to Alexander, "He saves my life ya know."

"Is it a luxury?" Alexander sighs. "Maybe it is." Then a pause. "But now I'm actively curious: is 'Dudley Do-Right' the phrase you were going for and missing?" He sounds amused again, although he reaches out to steady himself when the cables rattle.

They don't fall! Yay! And there's a chuckle as the lights come up. Alexander is actively smiling in the faint radiant light of them. "If you need any sort of supplies for the backyard explosions, let me know? I've got some shit in the crawlspace that I use for repairs - might be something you can use." He's looking up at the lights, not at Joey. "And anything that explodes Barbies is a good deed in my books."

Alexander doesn't break the silence that stretches on. Not until Joey does. He closes his eyes, then, and sighs. "I know, Kelly. I...know what that's like." He rubs at his face with a weary hand, makes a frustrated sound. Finally, he opens his eyes and turns his gaze on Joey, flat and dark. "I'll make you a deal. Want me to go the fuck away about this? Never ask about it again, not aid with any sort of police investigation around it? That's fine. I can do that. But," he raises a hand, "I want to know two things: first, that the body dumping wasn't any sort of intent to move on the strip mall, and two, that there won't be any more bodies getting tossed in the dumpsters over there. Give me that, and I'm out of your hair."

Joey takes some comfort int he lights at least being on. it's less like being buried alive. Resting his back to the opposite wall from Alexander he watches, and rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Him. Whoever." His eyes move to the doors. They aren't open. Well, here's to waiting. Arching an eyebrow he assures, "I think if it snows for Christmas of going outside and seeing if we can make the snow compact into making the back yard a tiny snow city for her to trample. She'll love it."

Arching an eyebrow he asks curious, and neither defensive or accusatory, but earnestly curious, "You know what it's like to have a stranger step in so you don't fall into State custody?" He listens arching an eyebrow, head tilting tired but alert, as Alexander gives his statute of demands. He answers counting off thumb first, then index finger. "Had zero to do with it as far as I've ever heard of. And two? I'll tell the neighborhood watch to help keep the mall tidy." He observes to see if this will suffice. He's too damn tired for confrontation tactics. If there was some sort of grudge with the mall it's on his face he's not at all fucking aware of it.

"Precision in language is a virtue, Kelly." It'd be slightly more obnoxious if Alexander sounded serious, but from the upturned corner of his mouth, he's teasing the other man. "That sounds fun, though. She needs a costume. With big, stompy feet for maximum destructive power." Careful. He looks enthusiastic about the idea.

Although it mutes when Joey cuts that eyebrow his way. He stares back, expression neutral. "Nah. Not that exactly. But...having someone save your life? Owing them, in a way you can't repay, but are damned sure you're going to try, because you're not going to be the asshole who abandons someone who did you, and continues to do you, solids just because maybe you don't like some of the things they do?" He shrugs. "I know that feeling. I'm not saying it's the same. I don't know you. I'm just saying that I know what it's like to have someone come out of nowhere and give you a place, in more ways than one."

He adds, after a moment. "And thanks. I'm sure that'll be sufficient."

Joey murmurs, "Sometimes family is the one we choose. Finds us. Ain't something we ask for or's born to. It's the people that show up for you when no one else does. No one's perfect, but that ain't something you throw away." That? That means something to him in a world where bodies in dumpsters do not.

Looking down there's a tired as hell but rarely seen, but genuine grin that warms, "Man, she'd be all over that. Her ma works like four jobs so planning and cash can get tight sometimes. If you're down I'd love the help makin that happen. "

"Yes," Alexander, agrees, softly. He turns to look at the elevator doors. "Of course, sometimes the family you find is just as abusive and fucked up as any you might share blood with." He shrugs, and there's a bleak expression on his gaunt face that suggests he may or may not be referring to Kelly's situation at all.

But it breaks when that grin comes out. Alexander catches it out of the corner of his eye, and does a small but actual double take. "I'm not bad with a needle and thread," he concedes, with the faintest grin of his own. "Yeah. I can help. Find out her favorite sort of dinosaur. Get her to show you a picture if she can; need to know if she's a feathers or scales kinda girl."

Joey nods slowly. There's no birthday cards from Monaghan. There's opportunity which is Felix for 'well done lad. Don't fuck this up.' and that one learns to interpret as they will. Right now though, tired as he is he's thinking tiny cardboard city, how many cereal boxes and shit to save and the 4 year old as a giant raptor crushing Cerealokyo. "You gonna help make a future five year old really fuckin happy." He considers further, "Have to let her wear it and do a day trip to the zoo and go see some reptiles. Man...I don't want her to get older but that's fire." Which is apparently a winning idea.