applesaucedream | Never Lie, Never Sin, Tell Us What A Mess We're In [Open to Multiple]

Current Music: Evening July 23rd/Morning July 24th, 2013

Entry tags:

Never Lie, Never Sin, Tell Us What A Mess We're In [Open to Multiple]

Melanie stares at the door to her cell. There is something different about it today. She's having a little trouble placing it, but she knows there's something off. It's concerning. She has been so clear about what ROMAC needs to do to keep everyone else safe from her, and the suspicion that they're messing up somehow makes her very, very nervous.

It's the locks, she realizes after a few moments of intense scrutiny. That is what's wrong. There are supposed to be five, but she only counts four. That can't be right. Melanie approaches the door with a little frown on her face, her fingertips hovering a few inches from the metal, wary of the shock she'll get if she actually touches it. Her hand flits from lock to lock like a hummingbird. Now there are six. How are there six? She counts again, baffled to find that the number has halved itself to three.

She tries to count again, but this time, there are none.

Now she does reach out to touch the door, she can't help it - she can't believe it. They can't have taken the locks away. They're important. Hasn't she made it clear how incredibly important it is that they keep her in here?

The door does not shock her. Instead, it swings open beneath her hand, smooth and silent.

Melanie presses her lips together, her mouth a thin, disapproving line. She doesn't like the thought of leaving her room, but someone has to be told about this so they can get it fixed. Keeping her movements slow and even, as if she's trying to sneak past a group of hungries, Melanie carefully steps out into the hall to look for help.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"So it is a dream," Daniel says, pleased that he worked it out so early on. Maybe he's getting a better grasp of all this after all. "Okay, good, so that explains a little, but - wait, hang on. You said you were locked in here?"

At this he frowns, not so much in confusion than in moral disapproval. She's just a kid, he repeats to himself for the umpteenth time. He can't imagine why anyone would.

Melanie suppresses a sigh. It was stupid of her to mention the locks - she should know by now that people who don't know her situation would find the idea upsetting.

She really doesn't want to tell this soldier what she really is.

"It's fine," she says firmly. "I like it here."

"You, you like it -"

No, he can't even really say it. Daniel looks up, casts a disbelieving, sweeping look around the barren halls and then back at Melanie.

"Why do you like it here?" No, that's a poor way of phrasing it. Daniel hastily tries to correct himself, stumbling, "I, I mean, uh - Melanie, have, have you been, uh, locked in here for a, a long time?"

Because that's definitely a cause for concern.

Melanie echoes his glance around the hall, as if it might have changed its appearance since she last paid particular attention to it. It looks just the same as it had before, similar to the underground base where she and the other hungry children were held. A bit bare and boring, sure, but it hadn't bothered her then, and it doesn't bother her now.

She can't imagine why it would bother Daniel. Isn't this the sort of place soldiers like him make for themselves?

Answering either of his question would require skirting too close to the truth, so Melanie just restates herself. "I want to stay here. It's…" safest? No. "Best."

"Best how?" Daniel slowly drops into a kneel so he's at eye level with her, head to one side as he tries to understand her reasoning. "Why, why are you in here?"

And the way she says it is more than a little disconcerting, a bit like a rehearsed directive, which just doesn't sit right with him.

"Look, I realize you don't know me," he hurries to explain, "and you don't have any reason to trust me. But for what it's worth I would like to help."

Melanie shifts back a step as Daniel drops to his knees, his movements so smooth that for a moment, she wonders if he does know what she is. But then he says he wants to help her, and she rejects that theory. No soldier would help a hungry child that they'd only just met.

He does seem to be a nice sort of soldier, though. More like Gallagher than Parks. Melanie feels a bit sorry for him.

"Would you rather help me," she asks, her tone considerably more gentle than it had been before, "or would you rather help everyone else?"

"I can't do both?" He smiles a little as he says it with the faint lift of a joke, but her words leave a chill. There's an explanation there somewhere and he's not sure he's going to like it.

"Look, Melanie, I know it might not seem like it, but I actually have...no idea where I am right now." He might as well admit it up front. She's being plenty honest with him, or as far as he can tell. He continues, gentle, "I'm more than a little confused about, uh, everything? Why don't you explain it to me?"

"That's good," Melanie says in approving response to his stated ignorance. If he doesn't know where he is (aside from a dream, anyway), then he'll have a hard time trying to find her, even if he's inclined to look. "You shouldn't know where I am." It's much safer for everyone this way.

She gives Daniel a searching look, wondering how much she can get away with telling him. Maybe if she keeps it very simple and vague, like she's telling a story for very young children, she could get the point across without getting everything across.

"In my universe," she starts with the same sort of tone that Miss Justineau used for 'once upon a time,' "there was a very bad disease. It turned people into monsters. Everyone caught it, in the end." Everyone but Miss Justineau. Melanie had seen to that. "Some people - children, like me - could carry it inside without being monsters." That part is important. She might not be a proper little girl, but she's not like the other hungries, either. "But I still have it. And if it gets out, it'll kill everyone, just like before."

She shrugs and spreads her hands a little, the universal gesture for 'what can you do?' "So if you want to help me and everyone else, the best thing you could do is just leave me here."

Daniel honestly can't tell what's worse - the explanation she gives him or the matter-of-fact way in which she delivers it. This is normal for her, accepted. He rubs one hand over his mouth and shuts his eyes to mask the fact that he has absolutely no idea how to respond to any of it. She doesn't seem to be looking for sympathy or a solution, but Daniel naturally feels inclined to offer both.

She's been essentially quarantined her whole life, and for her it makes perfect sense to remain that way, possibly indefinitely. That's all Melanie's known. She's a carrier, from what he can understand, for some...vague and unpleasant-sounding virus that is hopefully not airborne or transferred through touch. Probably not. He's going to assume no.

At her suggestion, Daniel's hand drops and he looks back up at her sharply.

"No," he says reflexively, much fiercer than he means to. But just - god, that doesn't sound like any kind of life for anyone, let alone a ten-year-old girl. He immediately softens his tone and dials it back a bit. "No, I, I can't do that. I can't just - I'm not going to leave you here. That, this, this whole place where you're just locked away is, that's no way to live."

"You have to," she says bluntly. "This is a nice enough way to live for me, and it's the only way everyone else will be able to live, too. You don't have a choice."

That came out a bit more pitiless than Melanie had really meant it to, and she cautiously steps forward and lays a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "It's very kind of you to want to help me." And foolish, but she keeps that thought to herself. "But this is best." She pats his shoulder, a bit less awkwardly than she had with Aziraphale.

He's a little surprised when Melanie puts her hand on his shoulder, but she seems to be more comfortable around him now if still a little hesitant. But her next words just make the care she put in the action worse. He shakes his head, adamant.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that." Daniel nervously reaches out to mirror her gesture from before, one hand gingerly brushing her shoulder. "There's always an alternative, another way, something. We just, we'll have to find it."

It makes sense, if she's been locked here for a long time, that she never would be familiarized with alternatives. And it's probable her captors haven't thought to try anything else when the system they have now works for their purposes, Melanie's mental well-being be damned. And Daniel doesn't find that acceptable.

Oh, dear. The look Melanie gives him is faintly perplexed. What is she supposed to do with this man and his ill-advised determination to 'save' her from her own best case scenario?

She's definitely not telling him where they are. The last thing she needs is for him to try and track her down once he's woken up, assuming he remembers his dreams. But maybe there's something he could do in here that would make him feel a bit better. It is only a dream, after all.

"Well," she says slowly, "since this is a dream, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for me to go outside." And if it does end up turning into some kind of dream rampage, at least she'll have made her point. "Maybe we can find an exit."

He chances another smile at that, broader, and gets to his feet.

"I think you have the right idea," he replies, casting around for a sign or a marker that might indicate where they are in the building. It seems that's an overly optimistic assumption, as this hall is just as featureless as the rest of them. "Unfortunately, I don't know how I got in."

Daniel's not sure how safe a plan of simply wandering around until they find something vaguely resembles an exit is. Melanie might be the first other living soul he's run into, but that doesn't mean there aren't other, less friendly occupants here. And if they're sharing a dreamspace, he doesn't want to know if that means items from his subconscious can be pulled into the mess as well. Because that would be, well. Bad. To put it mildly.

"I guess we can look for an elevator," he suggests, looking back down at her. "Or some stairs."

That's better. It might even be fun - like a game. Games are still new to her, but she's pretty sure she likes them.

"Good idea," she says with a conspiratorial smile. "I think I know where we can find one." She'd memorized the route when they'd brought her down, just in case. She's not sure how things work in dreams - the layout of this floor does seem to be a bit different than she remembers - but there has to be a lift or a stairwell somewhere. She glances back toward her room, mentally reorienting herself, then patters past Daniel and around a corner. "This way!"

Her shift from solemnity to enthusiasm is startling, but hey - she's a kid, and she's been here for a while, and Daniel can't blame her for wanting to move after being stuck in one place for so long. She has the chance to wander freely without real world repercussions.

He hurries after - Melanie moves fast for someone with such small legs - as she whips around a corner and wonders if her probably preternatural speed has something to do with the reason she was put here in the first place. Would being a carrier for the aforementioned disease lend her an increased agility?

Daniel shakes himself back into the present. Losing focus. Getting out is the priority. Getting out and...hopefully not running into anyone with the intent to stop them.

"Seem to know your way around here pretty well," he comments ruefully. "You'd think I'd be better at this sort of thing by now, but I don't think I'm very good at architecture that predates the seventeenth century."

Right, and she would definitely care about something like that.

Whoops, she's going a bit too fast. Melanie pauses to let Daniel catch up, making a mental note to slow down for him. "A little," she allows, because it's not as if she's seen a map of the place or anything. But if she can successfully retrace her route back out of the building, they'll come out of an underground parking garage that doesn't bear any obvious outward signs of ROMAC affiliation. That would be perfect for keeping her whereabouts a secret.

While she waits for him to catch up, she carefully parses his comment about architecture. Then, face suddenly alight with curiosity, she asks, "Are you an archeologist?" She's heard of those! Like most professions, 'archeologist' was rendered obsolete by the Breakdown, but it sounded like an interesting job to her. The fact that he's dressed as a soldier is a little puzzling, but plenty of soldiers back home had other jobs, first.

Edited 2014-10-20 16:06 (UTC)

And it turns out she does care about something like that. The more Daniel learns about this girl the more he's starting to like her. And the more it compounds his desire to get her out of this place.

"I am," he answers, mildly surprised. "Or was, anyway, before I came here. I consulted for the Air Force."

It's a little more complicated than that, particularly when one wonders what the Air Force might want with an archaeologist and a disgraced one at that, but Daniel's primarily focused on getting them out. Or letting Melanie lead them out. She quite obviously knows the layout better than he does. But seeing as she's been so upfront about herself to him, it only seems fair that he return the favor.

"I learned a little about archeology in school, but I've never met a real archeologist before," she says, looking up at Daniel with wide-eyed enthusiasm. "Did you get to go on digs? Were any of them in Greece?" That's where she'd go, if she was an archeologist.

As she questions him, she pads down the hallway until she reaches a freight elevator. It's exactly where she expected it to be, which is good news, but she bypasses it. Even though the place seems both deserted and in perfectly good working order, it still feels safer to take the stairs. And the stairwell is only a few meters from the lift anyway, so it's not as if they're going too far out of their way.

She heaves open the stairwell door with easy strength that her tiny frame belies, then leads the way upstairs.

Melanie's excitement is infectious, and once again Daniel can't suppress a grin.

"I did go on a lot of digs," he replies. No need to mention that quite a few of them happened to be on alien planets. That's a discussion for a time that's not now. "Not to Greece, unfortunately. Egypt, though. South America a few times."

He keeps the details minimal because they've just reached an elevator, the first divergence in the grim and empty aesthetic Daniel's seen since showing up in this place. He moves toward it, but Melanie heads to the stairs instead. And opens the very heavy-looking door without undue effort.

Daniel silently adds "apparent exceptional strength" to the rapidly growing list of abilities this small child has displayed since he's met her. He assumes she possesses them in the waking world, because Melanie handles them all quite deftly and certainly doesn't seem to find it odd that she has a disproportionate amount of strength and motor control for someone of her age and build. It's growing quite clear to him that with her host of enhanced abilities, she probably could have escaped from this area any time she liked and simply chose not to. She honestly believes she's best kept in here. Daniel still finds that troubling.

He trusts her instinct in this case and follows her up the stairs. He doesn't have a problem with elevators, but he can see why someone would.

"I take it we're underground?" he asks, watching Melanie move with a speed that very easily surpasses his with muted astonishment.

"South America," Melanie echoes as she climbs up two stories and steps out into another featureless hallway. "Did you get to see the Amazon rainforest?" She is quickly and unsurprisingly growing envious of Daniel's traveling experiences. She's seen pictures of the rainforest, but international travel was all but nonexistent after the Breakdown.

She leads Daniel around a corner and up to a large set of double doors. Beyond them: a subterranean parking garage. Melanie grins, pleased that everything seems to be working out so far. "Nearly there," she informs Daniel cheerfully.

"No, but I did get to look at some very interesting sites in Peru."

Melanie obviously knows her way around; it isn't long at all before they've reached a promising-looking set of doors.

He pauses for a minute before asking his next question because he suspects he already knows the answer, but if they're about to set foot outside the building it's a relevant segue. "Have you ever traveled?"

"No. Not really." It's echoey down here, and Melanie lowers her voice out of an ingrained desire to not be too loud. But her quietness also fits the downward shift her mood has taken. She doesn't think the attempted trek to Beacon counts as traveling, especially since they were just talking about visiting other countries - exciting places. She can't even say she's seen London as Daniel would imagine it, even though she's technically been there.

But it doesn't matter, Melanie decides, giving herself a little mental shake. She's going to go outside and do some exploring now. That will be nice.

The lot slopes up to a garage door that is firmly shut, but there's a smaller, regular sort of door next to it that opens under Melanie's hand. She pushes it open with an anticipatory grin and steps out into the milky daylight.

It's not what she was expecting.

Melanie freezes a pace or two away from the door, the grin dropping right off of her face, and slowly turns her head to take it in. It might have been a bustling urban area twenty years ago, but now it's in shambles. The pavement is cracked and weed-choked. Virtually every window has long since shattered, leaving the sidewalks littered with broken glass. There are a few abanoned vehicles rusting away on what remains of the street. It is eerily quiet.

In one direction, the road vanishes into a looming wall of soft, indistinct grey that looks almost like a fog bank. It isn't. In the other direction, several blocks away, there is a clustered group of gaunt-looking people that could almost be statues, they're standing so still. But they aren't statues.

They aren't people, either. Not anymore.

Melanie slowly turns to look back at Daniel, lifting a hand in warning as she does so. Every gesture is smooth, almost lazy, but she doesn't dare move quickly. That might get their attention.

"Move slow," she says in a faint murmur that he should have no problem hearing over the ringing silence of the city, "and talk quietly. We don't want them," she carefully gestures down the road, toward the distant group, "to notice us."

Edited 2014-10-21 01:34 (UTC)

No. Daniel doesn't expect she has.

But she doesn't seem to want to dwell. Out the door and into the open she goes, and Daniel follows a half-step behind as he steps right into a world he doesn't recognize.

It's so empty and chilling and utterly bereft of movement that it puts Daniel on the defensive immediately. The entire area is desolate, torn apart years before now, and completely abandoned.

Well, but no. Not completely. Daniel almost doesn't see the people in the distance because they're all standing deceptively still, practically indiscernible from the rest of the quiet panorama. Daniel doubts he would have noticed them at all if Melanie hadn't pointed them out to him in hushed undertone.

He jerks his head once in a thoroughly unsettled nod. The way she's moving now, with an eerily practiced fluidity, leads him to believe that this world has been pulled straight from her head. He shivers in a doomed effort to shake off how incredibly off-putting the whole area is. And closer inspection of the distant figures reveals something horribly...wrong about all of them as well. Yeah, he's going to trust Melanie with this one.

"Would we be safer inside?" he whispers, not taking his eyes off the collection of individuals a few blocks down.

Her eyes widen a little at that nod of his - it's far too fast, far too sudden, and she casts a paranoid glance at the group of hungries to see if they've noticed. Fortunately, it doesn't seem they have. With their heads slightly bowed, it's possible that they just can't see what's happening this far down the street, anyway, but this is not a time to be taking chances.

"Slow," she reminds him, demonstrating with a sluggish nod of her own. The gesture takes a full five seconds to complete. "They respond to movement, sound, and smell."

As if on cue, a faint breeze rolls down the avenue, stirring Melanie's modest growth of hair as it passes by en route from the grey wall to the hungries. It occurs to her, with a little jolt of panic, that Daniel isn't wearing e-blocker. He can't be - why would he? - and it's as if that realization works some sort of horrible magic, because suddenly Melanie can smell him. And the hungries are downwind.

For a moment, she can almost imagine that his too-human scent is an actual cloud, visible to the naked eye as it's borne by the wind down the street. She can almost see it hit the hungries. As one, they turn to face the pair, heads swiveling in their general direction, casting blindly from side to side before locking onto their target.

Hungries only have two settings. When they come, it's at a dead sprint.

"Run!" Melanie shouts, diving for the door they just came through and wrenching it open. It looks different, rusted and dirtied to match everything else, but the building appears to be the same aside from two decades of wear. Once Daniel's inside, she slams the door shut, not bothering to try for a lock. Hungries aren't that sophisticated. But you don't need to be sophisticated to beat down a door through sheer mindless determination.

Melanie grabs Daniel's hand and tugs him back the way they came. "Hurry!" A moment later, the lot echoes with the thuds of multiple bodies slamming against the door.

Daniel sucks in a breath and then silently berates himself for the noise and then lets it out in a long, silent exhale and nods back, slowly this time.

His eyes flick back over at the gathered people in the distance just in time for the breeze to lift up and -

- and then they all stare directly at him with awful, pinpoint accuracy.

There's something wrong with their eyes. There's something wrong with their everything.

Oh god. Oh fuck.

Daniel takes Melanie's order to heart quite willingly as he tears inside and Melanie slams the door behind them, but before he can request a hurried explanation she's seized his hand and begun dragging him back through the building. He notes with an absurd, distant calm that it looks more dilapidated now, shifted to fit along with the setting, he supposes. The sound of their pursuers thudding against the door - they move really fucking fast, oh god - reawakens the adrenaline and his normally dormant survival instinct, and Daniel dials up his speed instantly.

"What - the - hell?" he pants out between gasps. He's not sure how long he can keep up this rate, but the threat of those people, those things catching up to him is keeping him from flagging thus far.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject