Despite his generally improved mood, there had been something in the back of Klavier's mind that was telling him something was off about today. And it was on his way to the showers that he finally realized what it was. It was the schedule. He had been in this place an embarrassingly long time already. He knew the routine, he knew the patterns. This was off. Or more... it was his perception of what day it was that was off. Today should have been Sunday. So did that mean... Did that mean it was actually a day later than he thought? Had he actually lost an entire day? Had he somehow been rendered unconscious for that long
( ... )
Firo had been here for several days already, but this was the first time he was given the opportunity to wash. It wasn't really a surprise to learn that the showers were communal (it was a prison, after all, even if not by name), but even so... It was embarrassing to be ordered to strip and bath by the guard who'd escorted him. The saving grace was he wasn't the only one ordered to do so-and that at least the man hadn't stayed to supervise
( ... )
How irritating. It seemed he would have to work a little cautiously even while just cleaning himself. It was true that he tended to get in and out of the showers relatively quickly, but he still would have liked it to be as pleasant as possible for that short amount of time. Worrying about getting a wound wet didn't exactly allow for any sense of relaxation.
It may have been thanks to that distraction that he noticed someone take up the shower next to his. Normally, he'd have just blocked everything to the point of honestly not even caring to notice. Not that it changed anything in the long run. He had no initial intention of acknowledging their presence at all. At least, not until they spoke up first.
He glanced over at the other, only moving his eyes at first as he assessed the other for a second. The guy was young-looking. A kid, probably. Someone who only just qualified for adult showers through technicality. Not really anyone worth being wary of. If anything, he had reason to feel wary. Maybe that was why he'd decided to say
( ... )
"Oh, um... Sorry; I was just..." He cut off, realizing he was now stumbling over words, and looked away. Even if the man had already long since caught him staring by then, he didn't need to continue doing it.
Firo had been caught off-guard (something which seemed to be happening far too often lately) by being addressed in return, and he stayed quiet for a long moment afterwards, until he reached out to get some soap with a heavy sigh. He needed to get a better hold on himself; this was no way for a Martillo capo to act.
His eyes slid back to the blond man; he owed the man an explanation since he'd been staring-and anyway, he'd also been asked, after a fashion.
"I was just wondering what had happened." He gestured to his own head with one soapy hand, before starting to work the soap into his hair. "Did you hit your head, or...?"
The stumbling was half expected and might have made him laugh a little had the circumstances been more comfortable. He'd been aiming to make the other feel self-conscious about staring and either become embarrassed about it to the point of silencing themselves or decide to hastily leave for another shower. Either was perfectly fine with him
( ... )
Firo gave a small nod to affirm what he'd meant as the man pulled his hand away from the bandage, allowing him to see it clearly for the first time. He wasn't sure why the guy had been hiding it in the first place-or if he had been at all, though the way the man's hand had lingered made it seem suspect. It didn't look that bad-it just looked like his head had received medical attention recently, with the hair around the wound having been shaved away to make room for the bandage.
When the other man said he wished it had been something as simple as hitting his head, Firo's first thought was: he must have gotten hurt in a fight. It took another moment before he realized the brawl between fellow prisoners or between the prisoners and the guards that he'd imagined was probably a lot less likely in this place than a fight between a prisoner and some monster or another-and anyway, he'd said it was 'complicated'. A fight was pretty straightforward, no matter who it was against, so maybe it had been something more complex. What that
( ... )
Klavier had been watching the boy's face carefully as he pulled his hand away from the wound, waiting for... something. A recoil. A flinch. Eyes widening and nose crinkling in disgust, horror, or sympathy. Something to show just how horrid he must have looked with it. But he got none of that. The guy had simply looked at it with a calm assessment, like how a parent might look at a child's scraped knee. It was surprising, to be honest. Klavier didn't even want to look at it in a mirror from the bald spot alone, let alone the wound. ...Either it really didn't look that bad or the boy's standards weren't that high. Or he was just being nice.
Well... regardless of the reason, he had to admit he was at least a little less self-conscious about it after that (though he still found it difficult to stop thinking about it being there). At least enough that maybe he'd... just try carefully washing his hair around it without worrying about hiding it the whole time. ...Maybe there was a secret hint of appreciation in his smile for it
( ... )
Firo hadn't heard the term 'sleep studies' before, but when that man went on to explain that people were taken in for experimentation, things clicked into place. He frowned as the other finished, but the bluntness of the explanation was appreciated nonetheless. It was much better than not answering at all because the details were unpleasant.
"I've heard of that," he said. "Not by that name and not the details of the experiments, but... I know a little, at least." If it weren't such a serious topic, Firo might have laughed; it was one of the first times since he'd gotten here that actually had some idea of what was going on
( ... )
Oh, good. He had heard at least some bit of information regarding the experiments. So then the news wasn't something that had completely blindsided him out of nowhere. Klavier hated being the bearer of bad news (which was funny since that tended to be his role more often than not). It seemed like he took the information in stride, even if understandably bothered by it. Anyone would be
( ... )
Had they managed to help? That was exactly what Firo wanted to know himself, so that last night wouldn't have ended up being a waste. He titled his head upward, watching the water flow out of the showerhead for a long moment, before glancing at the other man again.
"We only found one," he answered. "Peter didn't really have time to treat him; the kid wanted to get somewhere safer right away, and it was morning before we knew it."
He sighed, taking a bit more soap to wash his body now that his hair was clean. "He left a note on the board this morning, though. It seems he can at least walk today, which is more than I can say for his state last night."
At the very least, maybe just being there had helped. There hadn't been much Firo could do for him other than provide protection, but if Peter had had just a little more time, to have finished examining him and seeing to whatever had left all that blood....
Only one. ... No. He shouldn't say that. It was a miracle to even find one person. Who knew how many were never found at all. It was a disturbing thought. A selfish part of him wanted to point out that that made him a lucky minority, but he honestly didn't want to think like that. The day he used other people's deaths to detail his own good fortunes would be the day he was no longer himself.
But he could imagine what kind of state that person had been in. And what kind of sight that must have been to come upon. It was enough to make one's blood boil when they thought about it. Monsters. All of them. To butcher and hurt people for their own benefit like this. Like they were all tools. And they believed they would never be caught and punished for it. No, he would see to it every last one of them was brought to justice. If it was the last thing he did. He swore to it. Right now, though, he should be looking at what little positive there was to look at. And that was the fortunate rescue of at least oneTaking in the kid's small sigh,
( ... )
"Firo. Firo Prochainezo," he said, giving his own name in return. He contemplated sticking his hand out for a handshake, but given their location, it seemed more than a little awkward. He settled for a nod instead.
He wasn't so sure they'd done enough and he definitely wasn't sure they'd done anything that would have helped the young man walk when he otherwise might not have, but he was willing to take Klavier's word for it-he'd been through an experiment (even if the details were probably different; the young man from last night hadn't looked like he'd had a head wound), so maybe in that kind of situation, just being there was enough. Being seen at a moment of weakness like that had to be embarrassing, but there would also be the relief of knowing someone had come for you.....
Firo made a vague gesture towards the bandage on Klavier's head. "Did anyone help you when you got that?" he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.
Klavier nodded back, noting the name carefully. Herr Prochainezo, was it? He would remember it. He tended to get lucky here and there, but in general, decent people were very hard to find here. It would be best to keep in mind those he felt he could at least somewhat trust and those he couldn't.
The question, again, caught him a bit off guard. He supposed it was only natural, given the flow of the conversation. But he honestly didn't want to talk about it. ...Kind of brilliant, that. Torment people enough and they won't want to share details, leaving the general population ignorant. It was kind of annoying. Either way, he was avoiding the bait of releasing more details regarding it. Especially when he wasn't being directly asked.
"No." It was said bluntly; simply stating a fact. And that was how he would continue speaking about this sort of subject, especially when in reference to himself. The last thing he ever wanted was to be pitied. "I don't think it's terribly common for that to happen, to be honest. You would have to know
( ... )
That no one had been able to help Klavier was unfortunate, probably. Firo supposed it depended mostly on the other man's on thoughts on the matter, but since he was calling it fortunate for he and Peter to have found someone at all... Maybe someone had tried and failed, or no one had even realized he'd been taken. There were a lot of people here, but with being separated at night (or into pairs at best), it was probably easy to never find out that a friend had been taken until it was too late.
Either way, he wasn't going to pry further, this time. Klavier had already answered that no one had helped him, and whether or not someone had tried wasn't as important in the end.
"We found him upstairs," he answered instead, tilting his head up as he recalled the way Peter had led him. "There was a hallway to the left of the stairs. The second door in it was locked and led to another hall with doors on either side. He came out of one of those rooms."
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It may have been thanks to that distraction that he noticed someone take up the shower next to his. Normally, he'd have just blocked everything to the point of honestly not even caring to notice. Not that it changed anything in the long run. He had no initial intention of acknowledging their presence at all. At least, not until they spoke up first.
He glanced over at the other, only moving his eyes at first as he assessed the other for a second. The guy was young-looking. A kid, probably. Someone who only just qualified for adult showers through technicality. Not really anyone worth being wary of. If anything, he had reason to feel wary. Maybe that was why he'd decided to say ( ... )
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Firo had been caught off-guard (something which seemed to be happening far too often lately) by being addressed in return, and he stayed quiet for a long moment afterwards, until he reached out to get some soap with a heavy sigh. He needed to get a better hold on himself; this was no way for a Martillo capo to act.
His eyes slid back to the blond man; he owed the man an explanation since he'd been staring-and anyway, he'd also been asked, after a fashion.
"I was just wondering what had happened." He gestured to his own head with one soapy hand, before starting to work the soap into his hair. "Did you hit your head, or...?"
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When the other man said he wished it had been something as simple as hitting his head, Firo's first thought was: he must have gotten hurt in a fight. It took another moment before he realized the brawl between fellow prisoners or between the prisoners and the guards that he'd imagined was probably a lot less likely in this place than a fight between a prisoner and some monster or another-and anyway, he'd said it was 'complicated'. A fight was pretty straightforward, no matter who it was against, so maybe it had been something more complex. What that ( ... )
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Well... regardless of the reason, he had to admit he was at least a little less self-conscious about it after that (though he still found it difficult to stop thinking about it being there). At least enough that maybe he'd... just try carefully washing his hair around it without worrying about hiding it the whole time. ...Maybe there was a secret hint of appreciation in his smile for it ( ... )
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"I've heard of that," he said. "Not by that name and not the details of the experiments, but... I know a little, at least." If it weren't such a serious topic, Firo might have laughed; it was one of the first times since he'd gotten here that actually had some idea of what was going on ( ... )
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"We only found one," he answered. "Peter didn't really have time to treat him; the kid wanted to get somewhere safer right away, and it was morning before we knew it."
He sighed, taking a bit more soap to wash his body now that his hair was clean. "He left a note on the board this morning, though. It seems he can at least walk today, which is more than I can say for his state last night."
At the very least, maybe just being there had helped. There hadn't been much Firo could do for him other than provide protection, but if Peter had had just a little more time, to have finished examining him and seeing to whatever had left all that blood....
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But he could imagine what kind of state that person had been in. And what kind of sight that must have been to come upon. It was enough to make one's blood boil when they thought about it. Monsters. All of them. To butcher and hurt people for their own benefit like this. Like they were all tools. And they believed they would never be caught and punished for it. No, he would see to it every last one of them was brought to justice. If it was the last thing he did. He swore to it. Right now, though, he should be looking at what little positive there was to look at. And that was the fortunate rescue of at least oneTaking in the kid's small sigh, ( ... )
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He wasn't so sure they'd done enough and he definitely wasn't sure they'd done anything that would have helped the young man walk when he otherwise might not have, but he was willing to take Klavier's word for it-he'd been through an experiment (even if the details were probably different; the young man from last night hadn't looked like he'd had a head wound), so maybe in that kind of situation, just being there was enough. Being seen at a moment of weakness like that had to be embarrassing, but there would also be the relief of knowing someone had come for you.....
Firo made a vague gesture towards the bandage on Klavier's head. "Did anyone help you when you got that?" he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.
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The question, again, caught him a bit off guard. He supposed it was only natural, given the flow of the conversation. But he honestly didn't want to talk about it. ...Kind of brilliant, that. Torment people enough and they won't want to share details, leaving the general population ignorant. It was kind of annoying. Either way, he was avoiding the bait of releasing more details regarding it. Especially when he wasn't being directly asked.
"No." It was said bluntly; simply stating a fact. And that was how he would continue speaking about this sort of subject, especially when in reference to himself. The last thing he ever wanted was to be pitied. "I don't think it's terribly common for that to happen, to be honest. You would have to know ( ... )
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Either way, he wasn't going to pry further, this time. Klavier had already answered that no one had helped him, and whether or not someone had tried wasn't as important in the end.
"We found him upstairs," he answered instead, tilting his head up as he recalled the way Peter had led him. "There was a hallway to the left of the stairs. The second door in it was locked and led to another hall with doors on either side. He came out of one of those rooms."
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