Night 56: M21-M30 Hallway

[human_sponge]

Dinner had seemed to pass by too quickly, while night had come on quietly, with just the click of the door opening. Nonetheless, Peter had managed to get his new duffel bag packed with all of the medicine, syringes, and medical supplies that he might need without it being too heavy to manage. He still had to carry his shovel in his other hand,

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M30

[toxicspiderman]

No message. That was different. Aguilar wasn't as big on hearing himself talk. That had been clear from the get-go, but he'd still done his little song and dance about goals, or stuck one of his underlings on the job. Still, it was time to unpack his crap from the boxes. That was Aguilar's style. Making someone pack all this stuff up every day, just to get unpacked at night. S.T. was surprised they didn't make the patients do it themselves, along with mandatory bed-making and the rest of that pseudomilitary Boy Scout bullshit

[unheroed]

The other two were talking about meeting girls. Well, Scott was, at least. Jones was probably just humoring him at this point, but either way Harvey wasn't interested. Not that talking about wounds was any more interesting, but at least it didn't dredge up as many old memories

[toxicspiderman]

He hadn't needed rescuing in there, and he'd done O.K. for someone without a sword or a tailharpoon, but Harvey had a point. "If there's anything left of Landel when we win this I'll be your expert pharmacochemical witness and we can see how much a jury will squeeze out of a pile of little bloody scraps

[unheroed]

For a moment Harvey was ready to nod along with what Sangamon was saying, even though he knew the whole thing was a pipe dream, until he realized that he was pretty sure he'd never mentioned his occupation to this man. They'd only spoken a few times, after all, even though they had risked life and limb together. Jones had probably mentioned it to the man at some point, though, and at this point it really wasn't a huge secret. No one here seemed to recognize his name even though he'd been in the press for a while. Only Gotham's press, apparently

[toxicspiderman]

"Annoying. And weird." Peter and D.C. hadn't shown up, so he popped open his own second beer. It foamed up like phosphate contamination on a river, brown and foamy. Tasted better, though it wasn't poisonous to humans. Algae loved it, which was the problem. Too much of anything and the entire system collapsed

[unheroed]

Well, maybe Sangamon was a bit too much of a protester for the two of them to get along beyond some random chatting over beers, but the guy wasn't an idiot. He had it on the dot: people were either hiding something good or were unwilling to talk about something terrible. Harvey knew better than to hope for the former.

Now there was only one beer left, though he got the feeling that Jones was going to go for it -- either that, or Scott would grab one before he lost his chance entirely. He probably shouldn't have been keeping such meticulous track of it in the first place, but what else was he supposed to do?

Harvey raised an eyebrow when Sangamon suddenly stood up from his seat, hobbling over to his desk so that he could start writing something down. Or was he drawing? It hardly seemed like the time, but...

He decided that he was too lazy to get up so that he could watch over the man's shoulder and just remained in his seat. "What are you doing?" he asked, cradling his beer.

[toxicspiderman]

Harvey was eyeing the last beer. S.T. ignored him, and kept tracing.

"Making another map.  Fuck if I'm going to spend half my time in this place giving new guys directions."  Worse than tourists, since they were all clutching guidebooks full of laments over the local demeanor.  He was just part of the zoo -- Homo Massholensis, in his native environment.  Occasionally (more often now) one recognized him.  He'd rattle off the Harbor weather forecast, which anyone with eyes and skin could determine from anywhere on the Freedom Trail, and they'd go away feeling like they'd had some excitement

[unheroed]

A map, right. So was Sangamon one of those people who posted them on the bulletin for anyone to see? Granted, that was how Harvey had gotten his copies, so he had to be grateful. It was something done out of good will rather than to gain anything, and Harvey found himself both admiring that and quietly sneering at it

[its_the_mileage]

[from here]

The project turned out to be copying another map. "I copied them when I first got here too. About three weeks ago," he added. "You've been the one putting them up?"

He'd been around long enough to remember detailed notes being posted every time new patients arrived--full maps, guides to every known one of Landel's lab rats, all sorts of information compiled. It had all vanished after the censorship crackdown. Indy wondered what'd happened to it. With no sign of that material at all since then, chances were good the authors had been "released." Too bad he hadn't taken the time to make copies of all that; for all he knew, it was just gone. Damn.

[toxicspiderman]

"Yeah. Don't spread it around. I have an image to think of." He sneered at the finished outline of the Institute, and started labeling rooms. "If anyone doesn't have the complete version, they're all there."

The notebook had more than that -- copies of bulletin notes, monster descriptions, a page of notes scattered around a section where Sharpie had bled through from the previous sheet. Enough that the spots could be pieced together. Any archeologist worth his fedora could puzzle out Fuck You Callahan, in large block print.

He pulled out the next of the maps. It was the roof map. The one he'd never heard a decent explanation for. "What the fuck was this about? Either of you around for that?" It was the kind of thing Edgeworth would only have included out of the kind of thoroughness that made for good librarians and basement-dwellers who thought miniatures made better friends than live humans.

[vsyourface]

[From here]

"I never did copy any of the maps. My skills of an artist aren't so good. I can draw sheep, and that's about it," Scott commented.

S.T. was pulling out another paper now, one that Scott had to say "Whoa, what?" to. He wasn't sure if he had seen a roof map before or not; maps tended to all blend together in his mind. That was probably why his "skills of a navigator" weren't so hot either. It was frankly a wonder that Scott hadn't gotten lost in the Institute more often by this point. Either way, he was curious about this map.

"I don't think so? But now I want to know who was. When did someone get to the freaking roof and live to map it?" Scott said in mild bafflement.

[unheroed]

So the other two had come to join them and Scott still didn't seem interested in having any of the beer. He wondered what had gone wrong in his upbringing to make him so indifferent to alcohol, but it probably wasn't his business -- nor did it really matter in the long run.

Harvey was still curious about what the two of them had been discussing, though. They were acting like they hadn't just been huddling together and talking in secret, and it kind of bothered him. He sent Jones a glance, somewhere between questioning and annoyed.

"I have that one," he said as the map of the roof was shown. "No idea who originally put it up or how they got it, though. Might just be a prank." It wasn't nearly as detailed as the others, for one thing, and he'd never once heard of people getting that far up. Then again, no one really spoke about the basement either. Who knew? Sighing, he took another sip of his second drink.

[its_the_mileage]

"Yeah, it was one of the ones I copied, but I've never heard of anyone getting up there." Taylor's version of the roof map was scribbled over with notes--Yup, bolted! next to a vent and Very far down. Don't jump. You will go splat at the edge of the roof. Indy mused aloud: "Jack, maybe? The notes look like something you or Peter would write." That last was directed at Pilgrim, who certainly seemed like the type to address a map directly to the reader if he were organized enough to make maps

[vsyourface]

"Jack?" was about all Scott was able to say before Indy hit him with a double-inside-outside loop and actually started (gasp!) trolling him.

"I'm not trying to impress her! I'm not!" he protested, a few sugary crumbs from earlier flying off his face.

[toxicspiderman]

"Step one. Make sure she isn't a lesbian. Nothing worse than being rejected and having all your friends whine at you for being insensitive for a week." Not that he cared what people thought of him, but there were only a few sounds more grating than whining. Gloria Estefan. Rick Astley. Telemarketers calling when reasonable people were trying to sleep off a hangover. All to be avoided.

"Step two," he said, and shrugged. What the fuck had Debbie seen in him? Women like Rebecca wanted adventure. Interview your best chance at a Pulitzer on his infamous boat. Thing had the rough outline of a giant grey condom, rocking slowly with the waves, so it wasn't a big leap to fucking. The ones that stuck around longer saw something, but he didn't know what.

"Stand for something, dude. They'll either laugh in your face and walk away, or you might have something in common." Indy had brought it up just to see Scott splutter. Maybe even without a beer they could make him blush. Innocent kid. "What's she like?"

[unheroed]

Either Jones was playing dumb or he really didn't realize what the problem was. It wasn't something that was going to get discussed right now, obviously, which meant that Harvey would just have to bring it up with the man later. If it was even worth the effort; he was starting to wonder if he was overreacting.

Jones was an ally and nothing else. Why did he care what he'd been whispering about with Scott?

But then the situation turned even more ludicrous, as they segued from having a sensible conversation about the possibility of roof access to discussing Scott's girl problems. Considering what Harvey had been through recently, romantic prospects were the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"You're really thinking about something like that when we're in a situation like this?" he cut in, only barely holding back a scoff.