anxiogenic: (Dread)
Dr Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow ([personal profile] anxiogenic) wrote in [community profile] maskormenacelogs2015-08-15 10:11 am
Entry tags:

Fearfest 2k15

WHERE: De Chima University; exhibition center and campus grounds.
WHEN: Saturday August 15th, 4.45pm start.
WHAT: A registration at the annual technology fair, with a fireworks display!
WARNINGS: Non-consensual use of fear toxin, disturbing mental images, cannibalism and violence. Characters are going to be a psychological mess.

"A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more."
- John Steinbeck, East of Eden.

Disunity had been the aim of last month's game. Secrets and lies and truths in fiction. Suspicions in minds. Doubts on tongues. Gossip block-printed in rags. Newspapers, from tabloids to broadsheets, had carried the news; some left-leaning publications had made a greater dinner of the expose than others. Scandalous magazines and imPort celebrity weeklies showed versions of the same 'exclusive', and many daytime shows pandered to the demographic who believed there was nothing to worry about if you had nothing to hide.

The last swearing-in of the summer has people gathering in the Exhibition Center of De Chima University, where certain imPorts have worked before. Spread out over the campus, every imPort will rub shoulders with the local students and faculty of the School of Applied Technology. Inside they will see a staircase with an events banner strung over the atrium. Outside there are modern interpretations of classical statues, on square plinths, and inside there's metal sculptures of scientific and technological principles. Rules discovered by those who studied the world they lived in; procedures and concepts of both organic and inorganic forces. Next to them are standing banners flapping in the breeze, tied to weights, to which blue, purple and silver balloons have been tied with thin string.

The Exhibition Center, located next to the park, is hosting the annual highlights of scientific progress this Saturday evening. The spacious Exhibition Hall that occupies most of the interior space serves as the focal point for the annual technology fair, and expects a smart-casual dress code. The focus of this evening is on medical technology and the benefits imPort involvement can bring. People are free to wander in and out of the building as they wish. The forecast is for a warm, clear evening, with no coastal wind or rain to bring cool relief. People are also free to wander around the center to explore rooms and corridors not locked and bolted to the crowd. Everyone is free to investigate for troublemakers or to cut through the crowd - or to see what isn't locked down and there for thieving. But try not to be caught by the security cameras!

If you climb upstairs or catch a lift to the upper levels of the Center, you will be able to access the grand and expansive glass floor that gives you a bird's eye view of the Exhibition Hall far below - if you've got the guts! There's a stack of supplies stored behind a large exhibition banner attached to the far wall, and you may peek inside to check them out. There's nothing that seems suspicious. A couple of anti-flammable canisters, containing nothing more suspicious than foam. Just try to enjoy the sights beneath your feet.

MEDTEC - the National Exhibition for AMERICAN Medical Technology

With the minutes passing by, with hundreds of figures in the crowd moving between the Exhibition Hall and the various function rooms, the event seems to pass without celebration or accident. That is no promise the evening will be uneventful.


The doors are thrown open to the crowd, who are free to collect their passes in advance from any available kiosk, or by digital means; electronic tickets on their phones to hard passes collected from the mailman or the University's box office. For those last-minute registrations, passes are available just inside the doors. Feel free to arrive early or wander in ten minutes before closing. It's all good!

MEDTEC - 4.45PM - 8PM

Get out on the floor. You are free to watch any of the displays local companies and R+D have to offer. This is a good time to watch the crowds or to slip out for a visit to the rest of the center. If you wander upstairs, you'll find locked corridors and rooms. But feel free to wander towards the glass ceiling that's above the Exhibition Hall.

Companies who provide to both civilians and the military are here - though you'll notice a lack of high-level technology for the latter. There's a hexagonal stage at the back of the Exhibition Hall that's standing ready for the imPort displays coming later. Please do not touch the tech if signs say not to. But don't think that means you can't try.


The stage is lit. You may want to head over if you wish to see what your fellow imPorts have cooked up - or even to put on your own show! You'll get an explanation about the cash prizes on offer, and the scholarships. Or you'll wonder why you're watching this ass-patting when there's hardly an inch of space anywhere around the stage.


The Exhibition Hall is closed. The function room next door is thrown open for imPort milling. Make friends around the tables and order free food and drinks from the bar. Sit back, throw your feet up and take a load off. Lighten up! You're here to let your hair down. Please listen out for the public address that announces the upcoming awards show in Conference Room 2, and the fireworks display that's scheduled at 9:10pm outside. You'll get a good view of it from the park.


To those exploring the grounds outside the center. Have fun. The balmy night is perfect for walking around without a jacket. Feel free to sling it over your shoulder and enjoy the hot summer air. How the hell is it this warm, anyway? Don't jump in the fountain by the park, kids. Don't put bubble-bath or soap in it, either. Go past it and check out the park, or not. 7You may like to step back into the city. Just be careful of the traffic.

You are free to avoid the main roads for smaller side-streets, but that won't help you. The trash bins hold too much litter. You may wish to investigate them, but will find nothing. But much of the urban area and parkland is turned to a new, sinister purpose. There are minute bombs hidden in drains, or in flower baskets. In every miniscule place in the corner of your eye that escapes your notice. Timed devices primed to detonate in sync with the green and yellow fireworks overhead.

At 9.30PM, the earth will seem to split open and rumble. People screech and shriek about a range of hallucinations; from finding their loved one's body in the city morgue, to being the meal for a pack of monsters, to a flock of crows diving from the railings and rooftops to rip them apart. Those terrified of spiders see nothing but; on the floor, in windows, crawling up the walls. Some folk cough and splutter. Unable to breathe, they suffer a heart attack and can die on the spot. Others are given to a frenzy by the gas, and some experience flashbacks to hideous crimes - except they are the lunatic responsible for murdering children, or the killer stalking people through the streets at night.

It smells of pollution. It smells of fireworks. It smells of street food. There's the sound of blaring horns due to the traffic. There's the smell of fire, caused by the delirious rioting, and blood spilled by those around them, whom they cannot see. The gas enters cars, apartments and buildings with their windows open; the chaos echoes indoors as much as out. Those driven to a murderous lunacy pursue other victims of the gas through a twisted, nightmare version of their neighborhood, and violently resist any calls to cease and desist.

The gas hangs heavy on the air and fills the campus, engulfing the streets, entering the university buildings and student apartments. People around you are panicking, violent, delirious. You might experience what they do. You might hear the screaming, the illegible yelling and see cowering people talking of spiders, ghosts and scarecrows. You might rush indoors to help. You might meet friends who you wish to kill. Or you might run off in a manic state - unable to realize you're running into open traffic. Oh dear.


Celebration time. The University has arranged a judging panel that has deliberated on the technology imPorts put on offer - this is the hour where your contributions to local society are being noticed and celebrated. Between the floor and stage, to the assembled chairs and technological displays dotted around the vacant exhibition hall, there's little standing room. You're free to stare down from the glass ceiling high above, or to stand at the back of the crowd below, but don't crowd the doors.

At 9.30PM, with the judges leaving the hexagonal stage so the Head of Applied Technology can present the first award, you might hear a loud hiss of air. A gas leak! The particles are colorless till they meet the oxygen in the room and form a grey cloud that fills every inch of space, from the upper echelons of the ceiling above the glass, to the chairs and the floor down below.

It doesn't smell, and the effects are instantaneous. All noises and images will twist and warp. You might find the neon lights burn as hot as sun-fire. You might see the room on fire and hear the horrific screaming of those trapped and dying in the ruined building you now find yourself in. Perhaps you smell ashes. Or perhaps you smell saltwater and brine - you're drowning! Or you might be one of the few. The brave. The unaffected. Look around and you will see some in the crowd clawing their faces to oust whatever they think is wriggling beneath their skin. They scream and they cry. Others devour their own skin, suffering from hunger - or they eat the flesh of others. They turn on each other. They turn on you.

If that's not enough there's a different show in store. You might be unfortunate enough to be on the glass floor when it kicks off. Enjoy it or don't. It's all the same.

GOGO - 9.30PM - 10PM

At 9.30PM, you may think the metal warping around you is just another part of the hallucination. But it's real. The expo hall groans as the walls react to another power, and the displays twist as if a greater force is squeezing them and pulling.

Before too long, the smaller things rattle and jump back and forth across the room. Pens, instruments, small change, etc; even piercings will tug at the skin with increasing force until they may just rip out to join the rising storm of metal. You can stay and test your luck, dodging unpredictable attacks, or you can risk escaping into the night, out from underneath an increasingly unstable roof. Just pray the decoration in the hall doesn't crash into you as you flee.

At 10PM, the stress of the chaos is finally too much for the expo hall. The supports have twisted beyond recognition, the walls damaged by their own warping and displays crashing into them at force. There's a loud crack as one of the supports snaps under the weight of the glass ceiling and with a heavy shudder the whole network starts to unravel and sends the ceiling crashing down. Anyone on the second floor may be lucky enough to get out of the way before it drops, or perhaps they can grab hold of a railing that will creak under their weight.

Or maybe you are one of the unlucky ones who rides the glass from above, all the way to where it shatters across the floor.


Ten minutes past the hour, as a loud bang echoes for each firework shot into the night, the sky over the park is filled with the sort of brilliance one would only see on the Fourth of July. You might ask what's a nighttime event without fireworks, anyway?

For that charming couple on their date, to the curious student, an extravagant display comes on the rocket-propelled tails of rockets and bombs and flares. Look to the sky and lose yourselves in the colors as they appear - crimson stars and butterflies, and the pink crackling comets that leave behind a tail of effects. A red geometric circle of lines and dots glitter and break apart into smaller circles, then scatter and disappear, their fuel and powder spent. Memories of the sight are left behind; the smoke barely visible overhead; the smoldering gunpowder - and the warm company of whoever you're with. Perhaps you're one of those unafraid to visit such events alone. Perhaps you have a brilliant memory and the sight has burned itself into your eyes. One display follows another till the last; the end of a 25 minute display mentioned over the public address and published in the brochure.

At 9.30PM, the fireworks fizzle out. The display is over. It should be over. Then there's one more show - a collection of rockets and flares colored in yellows and greens, the colors one associates with poison and sees in cornfields. The colors are sickly and nausea-inducing as they explode in the night sky. It's just another display, right? Then cracks appear in the sky itself! All the yellows and greens, blacks and blues run into the white, hollow emptiness.

Perhaps you believe those eyes in the firmament are real. Or you're part of the crowd who believes the entire sky is falling down. A stampede breaks out. The slow are trampled underfoot. Students, faculty and guests stand shock-still. Some are clawing at their eyes. Others cannot contain themselves and empty their lungs with unfocused wailing. From the sky fall shards of glass. A flood of color threatens a deluge, even as the smoke and particles of the toxic gas contained in those green and yellow fireworks are carried by the wind over the locality.


There's a collection of police, emergency services and reporters in a boundary around the university area and affected streets. Safe on the edge of the gas cloud, they are evacuating the surrounding areas. Ambulances and stretchers are ready for the wounded; RISE and any relevant factions may be helping with the chaos - or caught up in it themselves.

You might be trapped within the gas, cowering in fear. You might irrationally run into the lights you see in the haze, not knowing what you are seeing or the faces that watch you scramble by, screaming illegibly. You might be directing others in the chaos. You might be one of the people driven manic by it all. You might emerge from the mist with blood on your hands. You might recall how it got there. You might not. But you won't forget this night, will you?
superposition: ((you won't like me when i'm angry))

[personal profile] superposition 2015-08-19 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
It was some time later that Qubit found the two of them. After the building was mostly evacuated (and partly collapsed), he finally made his way outside and got clear of the worst of it. Still hell on Earth, true, but at least not such concentrated hell on Earth.

Not that it made that much of a difference. He'd breathed in a lot of the toxic gas over the last - how long had it been? an hour? ten hours? a year? - and he was still seeing the Plutonian everywhere he looked, hearing Modeus's words out of everyone's mouths. But against every instinct he had, he was trying to ignore them. He could barely tell what was really happening and what wasn't, anymore, but - he'd almost killed someone. He'd almost murdered a kid. That, he knew, hadn't been a dream - yet it scared him as much as anything his subconscious could come up with.

He almost walked right past Newt and Hermann, but spotted them at the last second wherever it was that they were hiding, badly startling himself in the process. Modeus-! He got them, too, he's everywhere - No. Pull yourself together, they're not him. But who they were, he couldn't say, either. Was it actually Newt and Hermann he was seeing here, or just his drug-addled brain screwing with him again? But then the shreds of logic he was clinging to told him shut up, it doesn't matter, just help them, even though their faces were already starting to distort as he strode over to them.

By this point, Qubit was himself kind of an unholy wreck to look at; his hair was a wild mess, his clothes filthy from sweat and rubble, and his face was split down the center by a smeared trail of blood from a scalp wound obtained earlier. He looked wild-eyed but exhausted, as if only adrenaline was keeping him moving - which, to be honest, was probably true.

"What are you still doing here?" he demanded. "We're under attack, for God's sake, get moving!"
mathemagier: Ten years of experience!! (Default)

[personal profile] mathemagier 2015-08-19 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
They'd attempted to move away from campus, but hadn't made it far before it became clear that Hermann's legs simply weren't going to be cooperating with him anytime soon. The best they could do was hide in a shadowed corner of the building outside as far away from the chaos as possible while Hermann lapsed in and out of reality and Newton tried to keep it together for both of them. He knew it was taxing the poor man, but he could offer nothing but a rasping apology every time he slipped back from a hallucination.

The man that stopped in front of them was barely recognizable, with the sort of blooded and wild look that was terrifying under the circumstances. Hermann grasped for his cane, ready to swing if they were attacked, but through the strain and stress of that voice, Hermann recognized it- although it wasn't particularly friendly.

He'd stand if it wasn't beyond him, eyes flashing up at Qubit and voice shaking with offense ...or fear. He could feeling himself slipping again and his other hand tightened over Newton's in an attempt to stay rooted in reality.

"It might have escaped your notice, but I can't move at the moment." To be fair, it wasn't exactly obvious they weren't sitting there for the hell of it, with no real injuries to speak of.

"Everyone else is..." Was that one of the Precursors? No, no it wasn't, that was impossible. Like Newton's Drift. God no, don't think of that.

He was saying something, there was a thought to complete. Hermann blinked through it. "Not.. particularly.. sane at the moment."
Edited (goddamn you markup y u fail me IM DONE...) 2015-08-19 06:29 (UTC)
driftsintobuffetline: (oh shi-)

[personal profile] driftsintobuffetline 2015-08-21 09:13 am (UTC)(link)
He was grateful that barely anyone bothered with them over here. Occasionally someone would stumble past, lost in their own mind (and Newt selfishly left them to it) but for the most part, everyone was concentrated to other parts of the campus. Which was fine and dandy. He knew he should care more, but worry for others would settle in later; right now he had his hands full with Hermann, offering murmurings of support and shaking his head in silent protest at each of the unnecessary apologies his lab partner offered. Between the hallucinations and the confusion in their connection, he tried to formulate a plan. He couldn't.

Newt gave a start as a bloody and familiar figure stopped in front of them and he rose shakily to face the man--to defend or to help, he honestly wasn't sure--stepping just slightly in front of Hermann. Qubit. Oh, god, man, what happened to you. And it started to hit him how many others he should be thinking about--Qubit and Mako and Hiro...--and that right now, Qubit wasn't thinking clearly. Newt didn't want to hurt him, and to be honest, he wasn't sure he'd even win in a fight, so all he could hope for is that Qubit had just enough wits about him to not start anything.

"Qubit, man..." It terrified Newt to feel like the sanest inmate in this asylum, the only sober person at the party of drunks, because that was NEVER him and he didn't like it. He didn't know how to take care of people and he was struggling just to hold down the fort with himself and Hermann. He didn't know what to do with Qubit's shattered self, especially since, while Newt liked the guy, he barely knew him. Helping Hermann was hard enough. How did you help someone when you had no idea what they were experiencing? "Chill. It's Newt and Hermann. We're okay, buddy." Or as okay as they were going to be since Hermann was right: they couldn't exactly go anywhere fast.

He reluctantly withdrew his hand from Hermann's and tried to take Qubit by the arm, gently, like he was a frightened animal, to lead him over to their refuge. He eyed that head-wound--was it a cut, or was he concussed? "Join the party," he tried for dry humor, pushing back some frightened giggles. "We were gonna have tea and biscuits."
superposition: (Flying bullet for you)

[personal profile] superposition 2015-08-21 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sounds lovely," said Qubit, voice dripping with sarcasm. He reflexively jerked his arm away from Newt's hand - he was more than a little overstimulated as it was - but followed him over nonetheless, crouching down next to Hermann.

"I may be able to port you two out. Are you injured?" he asked urgently. Yes, that's it. Stick to procedure. Evaluate, then act. If it was a back injury, this could get complicated, but if it was just his legs -

His legs?

His legs were gone.

Qubit's breath caught in his throat. No. Not again. He was hallucinating. Had to be. The rest was still there, for a generous definition - liquid chrome dripping from the melted half-torso and missing jaw, pooling on the ground, dribbling down the yellow M emblazoned on his chest. Alarmed, he glanced up at Newt, but it wasn't Newt, it was someone in red and black, half-skeletonized, his eyes burned out of his skull.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out. "No. This... this already happened," he murmured to himself.

Qubit, don't let me di-

"I'm so sorry."
mathemagier: fuck this (Injured)

[personal profile] mathemagier 2015-08-21 07:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Hermann tensed, drawing his cane across his lap and regarding Qubit with wary suspicion.

"No, we're not injured," he said heavily, free hand clutching at his right thigh. "We would.. greatly appreciate your assistance." Desperately needed it even; it was something of a miracle to be found here.

But the change in Qubit's expression, to something wide and alarmed and turning up to Newton felt threatening, and the shaft of his cane vanished and tapered into a long point- a weapon. Hermann swallowed, a white-knuckled grip ready to raise the makeshift stake in defense of either of them if the man made a move against them.

A man that was slowly seeming less human and more alien by the second.
driftsintobuffetline: (oh shit--)

[personal profile] driftsintobuffetline 2015-08-22 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
In the back of his mind, Newt filed away that Qubit rejected his touch, now at least, and that it might be unwise to push the matter at present--all things considered and especially since Qubit was again offering them help (If I were you, I'd have ported myself out of here long before now. Why are you still here, buddy?) and any help would be awesome. All Newt wanted to do was get somewhere free of whatever was in the air, but of course it couldn't be that easy. Nothing was, and Qubit's alarm fueled Hermann's defensiveness in a vicious cycle--

Mediation, not one of Newt strong suits.

"Shit, Hermann. No, we're ok--It's just Qubit--" He waved his hands, deciding against reaching between Hermann's makeshift weapon and Qubit, frantically trying to quell whatever standoff Hermann thought he was in and hoping Qubit wouldn't see a threat in this and, shit-- There was that slide towards insanity again, like Hermann was falling from a cliff and Newt was tethered to him, unable and unwilling to sever the line. His breath caught and he saw Qubit's eyes glow blue, his face start to become monstrous--

No--we're not doing this--

He grabbed Hermann by the first part of him Newt could--which happened to be his ear--and pinched it hard between his short fingernails. While Newt couldn't very well risk bleeding, Hermann could, and he needed Hermann to focus on something other than the delusions of his own mind before they all three regretted the outcome. Hermann!! Kneeling down immediately, he grabbed Hermann by the chin, harder than necessary, forcing him to look at Newt, banking on the fact that so far--at least for Newt--the one consistently real thing in the hallucinations--the calm at the eye of the storm--has been each other. "Come on, dude! Stay with me here! No shanking fellow science buddies."

He held Hermann's gaze, his own voice and body trembling as the Kaiju in his head roared and Qubit slowly resumed his proper appearance.

"I-I don't care where you send us. We just need to get out of here."
superposition: ((talk to me))

[personal profile] superposition 2015-08-23 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
This already happened. It's not them. The internal mantra only sort of worked. When Qubit opened his eyes the scene had changed to a weird amalgam of memory and reality - Metalman with a cane (a sword? he honestly couldn't tell), Citadel with glasses and tattoos. It was almost absurd.

They really did need to get out of here.

Tapping a couple keys on his watch, Qubit dialed up a portal a couple meters away. His equipment was all EMF-shielded, of course, but all the interference wasn't doing it any favors, so the blue disc glitched momentarily before stabilizing - but he took a second to satisfy himself that it wasn't going to collapse, at least. Then he grasped Hermann's shoulder with one hand and the space where his leg ought to be with the other. That hand found a knee, and neither one felt like molten metal. The cognitive dissonance helped somewhat.

"All right," he said. "Let's go. You're going to be fine. Up you go." He pulled Hermann's arm around the back of his neck, and motioned to Cit- Newt to do the same with the other one. Between the two of them, they should be able to get him vertical.
mathemagier: your music is awful (Horror)

[personal profile] mathemagier 2015-08-23 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
Pain shot through his ear, and Hermann jerked away from it with a shout of surprise. Newton's nails dragged across the shell of his ear and his fingertips came away wet. His own name sounded through his head like an alarm, and he was staring into a pair of green eyes- familiar eyes framed through a pair of very close lenses.

Newton. Oh god, he'd lapsed again, and come sickeningly close to attacking a friend of theirs. He was helpless and losing control, and the thoughts terrified him more than any Kaiju.

"Y-yes, I.. I won't."

The hands on his shoulder and knee gave him a start, and Hermann's eyes swung to Qubit who was speaking and pulling his arm around his neck. He might have objected under other circumstances, but the portal shining in front of them promised sanity, and he could only go along with it.

He let them pull him up, contributing to the effort where he could, hand still tight on his cane behind Qubit's back. Hermann spent a few mental calculations to warp it back to its original shape and let out a slow breath as his feet found the ground beneath him. He leaned heavily against Newton and edged his left leg forward in an experimental half-step. It wasn't going to hold under his full weight, but he still couldn't feel or move his right at all.

"Sorry.. for all this. ..We should be able to make it."
driftsintobuffetline: (hey I can't see over your shoulder)

[personal profile] driftsintobuffetline 2015-08-23 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Good." It was a relief to see clarity return to their eyes. They really had to get moving between they lost themselves again.

He followed Qubit's example, wrapping Hermann's arm behind his head and over his shoulders, his own arm around Hermann's back to support him in the lift.

Newt stumbled a little at the weight and height difference but otherwise managed to get his own legs under him along with getting bony, lanky Hermann upright. He cast a glance past Hermann at Qubit and hoped there was a clear thank you written over his own face that Newt didn't yet have words for. Once again, Qubit had come to their rescue. He didn't have to, but he did--it was such a weird and foreign feeling still to be helped without expectations. However badly that portal might have flickered in front of them, though it held steady for now, Newt didn't care. It was a welcome sight, reflecting back in his dirty lenses as they hobbled forward.

"I'm never going to get over how cool that is." His awed tone was tempered a bit by uncertainty. "Where's this go?" Were powers affected by what was in the air?
superposition: (So what difference does it make?)

[personal profile] superposition 2015-08-24 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
You can fanboy later, Newt. "A park a couple miles south of here," Qubit explained, not meeting either of their eyes. "I've sent a number of people that way already. Some paramedics are staging there, I think." He wasn't entirely sure what he'd seen the last time he looked, but there'd definitely been flashing lights, and it made sense, anyway. Not all of the emergency personnel who'd been called in had the right protection for an incident like this, so staging upwind was the best they could do.

He steered the two of them to the portal, gradually shifting Hermann's weight to let Newt take it up. It felt like they were finding their feet, though he couldn't be completely sure of that when Hermann's legs kept flickering in and out of existence. At the threshold, he removed himself entirely, helping Hermann get set up with his cane. "Steady on. You got it okay?" he asked, directed at both of them.
mathemagier: stop and go (Red light)

[personal profile] mathemagier 2015-08-26 08:25 am (UTC)(link)
If he'd had the energy, he would've snapped at Newton to focus, but all he could manage was a series of unsteady nods in response to Qubit. Hermann's fingers wrapped tight around his cane, trying to distribute his weight so that they were both as steady as they could be. They wouldn't make it far, he was sure, but through the portal would be just enough. Outside the immediate threat, they could relax and maybe even seek treatment.

Still, he found it difficult to leave their friend behind, even if it was by choice. The man was walking the same tightrope they were. "You should come with us. This place.. isn't safe for anyone."
driftsintobuffetline: (bedraggled)

[personal profile] driftsintobuffetline 2015-08-26 10:04 am (UTC)(link)
Newt was focusing: focusing on not tripping either of the other men, and not tripping over his own feet, and keeping Hermann from slipping. Just so happened that his mind could multitask and his mouth could run easily without much conscious thought, and it tended to do that when under stress. Under normal circumstances, it would have ended in an argument, or at least some length bickering.

To be frank, Qubit could have been sending them to Russia, for all Newt cared. Just so they got out of here. But a park and medical personnel sounded better, and--why were they stopping? What was the hold-up? Into the portal!

Oh. He adjusted his hold on Hermann, shifting his attention from the portal to his lab partner and then to Qubit. With a begrudging sense of loyalty, he debated the options before he nodded to Hermann's plan.

"Right--He's right. Come on, Qu-man."
superposition: (And you must be looking very old tonight)

[personal profile] superposition 2015-08-27 03:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Qubit paused. It was a surreal experience, being told that through the faces of two dead friends. But it wasn't going to happen, one way or another. He shook his head, apologetic.

"I can't." Where you've gone, I can't follow. "I still have work to do here."

He took a step back, hand on his watch so he could close the portal once they were through. "Get going. I'll catch up with you later." Provided he didn't get killed, anyway.