Twisted halls for a twisted mind...

[Gunslinger]

Roy stood at the intersection of halls, whistling to himself amiably, eyes darting around the walls and up to the ceiling as he rubbed his hands together.

He was considerably less comfortable than he thought he would be.

From the age of 15 he'd been moving from place to place, never staying anywhere for too long. He'd always picked places with plenty of windows, lots of open space, because for three long years he had lived in a complex of rooms and halls, rarely seeing the sun. His own living quarters had been underground so he couldn't blast his way out.

A small bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Every day he had walked down a hallway just like the one he was standing at one end of, and at the other end waited nothing but more misery than before.

So here he stood, feet together, gazing down the hallway, whistling cutting through the still air.

[Nightingale]

Still clutching Mr. Bones to her chest - who had, thankfully, calmed down and stopped shivering in fear now that they'd left the beach and Pyro behind - the young woman walked through the metal halls of the Brotherhood's base, heading toward the kitchen.

In some ways, she'd gotten used to their life there in the almost two months that had passed since she'd joined the group - but in other ways, Angie still craved a much more people-friendly surrounding. Dharma's building was amazing - and she hoped that they'd get a chance to build more, so that the mutants of the world had a haven that actually made them comfortable once Pyro's plans started coming to fruition. It would be difficult building them all, but worth it - the metal was... stifling.

The sound of whistling cut through her thoughts, and the young Australian found herself cocking her head to one side as she approached the sound. Mr. Bones was wagging his tail excitedly, pointing the way for her with his nose, and she rounded a corner to find an unfamiliar face standing at one of the many intersections in the base.

"Are you lost?" She smiled warmly, glad to see another new face - and another good looking face, she couldn't help but note. What was it with them?

[Gunslinger]

Roy hadn't heard her approach at all, and he turned his head swiftly as her voice filtered through his ears. She was cute in a girlish sort of way, although her bright smile was strangely comforting. However...

"Is that... a skeleton?" he asked, looking at the dog in her arms. He edged away from the hallway entrance with a glance backwards before looking down at the small bones curiously.

[Nightingale]

"Oh, yeah, this is Mr. Bones." This guy better not be repulsed like Pyro - Angie didn't think she'd be able to deal with yet another person looking down at the little dog.

"Have you been told a whole lot about the base? Dead Man made him - well, uh... Brought him back." She put him down on the floor, and he ran around in circles, clearly barking though no sound came from him. Mr. Bones didn't seem to realise that he was dead - which was strangely appealing to her. If he'd been creepy like Dead Man, Angie probably wouldn't have liked him half as much.

She gave the newcomer another smile and offered her hand to shake. "I'm Angie. Did you lose your way? Pyro doesn't really give the best tours, I can help you find what you're looking for." In fact, when she'd arrived at the base, she hadn't even been given a tour - she'd been passed out at the time, but it had definitely made for an interesting couple of days 'til she found her way around.

[Gunslinger]

Roy crouched down, looking at the reanimated dog with a strange fascination. "Mr. Bones. How appropriate." He reached out and attempted to pet the dog's bleach white head, but little skeleton never stopped moving. Rising with a low chuckle, Roy straightened his blazer.

"A dead man brought this little guy back? Seems like we can do all sorts of things around here." He wasn't so sure about reanimating the dead, but Mr. Bones seemed to be okay, and for a skeleton, his canine antics were cute enough.

Taking Angie's hand, he shook it firmly. "Roy. Didn't get much of a tour, really. I was just feeling a bit hungry and was trying to find the kitchen." Releasing his grip, he turned around and looked back at the hallway. His heart sped up slightly and he licked his lips.

"I don't suppose there's another way to the other side of this hall?"

[Nightingale]

The diagnostic aspect of her power kicked in as soon as Roy grasped her hand, and she noted in the back of her mind that he was physically perfectly fine - not even particularly fatigued, but the unfortunate drawback of her mutation was that it didn't stop working even if there was no reason for her to be passing her energy over.

"Don't like all the metal? I think there's a long way around, out of the base and through the jungle to one of the side doors, but..." Her smile was a little embarrassed. "I don't really like going off the paths we use a lot, there's all kind of animals and things."

"Mr. Bones." The words were only quiet, but the little dog immediately stopped running around and came back for Angie to pick up, and she scratched between where his little ears were going to be with another one of her sunny smiles.

[Gunslinger]

Roy gave her a friendly smile. "Yes. All a bit much, I fear."

It was so easy to lie about it. It had nothing to do with building materials at all and all to do with the fact that it looked exactly like that damned hallway. He could still hear the footsteps that echoed until that last day, that freeing day...

He blinked once and focused back on the dog as it ran to Angie. Something totally unrelated. A small skeletal dog. That was what he needed to focus on. He certainly didn't relish trudging through the jungle. He'd seen one of the spiders that grew on the island on his way in, and frankly, it looked large enough to eat his head, so he was going to avoid those as much as possible.

"All right. Which way to the kitchen?"

[Nightingale]

"Well, there's windows in the kitchen at least. This way." Pointing with one finger over Mr. Bones' head, Angie led the way to the kitchen, running her fingers along the dog's spine the whole way.

"So what do you do, if you don't mind me asking? I suppose I should have introduced myself as Nightingale, but..." But Dead Man totally creeped her out, with the way that he said it, and Angie was just easier to say. Less syllables was always a good thing.

"As in the nurse, not the bird." Remembering Dom's code name, and her own confusion, she thought that perhaps she should clarify.

[Gunslinger]

There were windows in the kitchen. That in of itself was something, and he gladly turned away from the long hall to follow Angie back the way he had come.

Still smiling brightly, he caught up to her in two quick strides with his long legs, eyes darting around to make sure that he hadn't somehow been transported back in time. No, it's different. Just that one hall.

His eyes flickered to her face when she mentioned the word nurse. Honestly, he would have prefered her being like the bird, especially in this place. However, she didn't look like a nurse; the last nurse he'd had any contact with had been huge, black, and had seemed like more of an orderly.

Damn Rocko.

"They call me Gunslinger." He considered demonstrating, but he didn't need to blast a hole in the wall of the base. Not yet, at least. "Energy absorption, storage and emission." He pulled one blazer sleeve down slightly, showing her the blue tint there.

Pulling sleeve back down, he watched as the black letters rippled on his hand. Maybe he should start wearing gloves regularly. "So, what is it you do?"

[Nightingale]

"Energy transfer. Whenever I have skin contact with someone. It all comes from me, so I'm probably not the most effective healer... But I'm all we've got so far." She shrugged.

"I can also do normal first aid stuff... Well, normal-ish. My mum was a doctor, so what she considers normal emergency knowledge is a bit more advanced than what you'd get doing your first aid certificate. But it's easier to just use my powers, so long as I've got the energy."

She was intrigued by the blue area on the inside of his wrists, and would have to ask Roy to explain more sometime. But right now they were approaching the kitchen, and Angie let Mr. Bones down out of her arms and pointed to the right door - open, as always.

Lasagne was usually a good, safe meal to serve. So far the only vegetarian member of the Brotherhood was Dharma, and he took care of himself. Better safe than sorry, though.

"Pyro probably didn't bother to find out, but none of you guys have any special diets or anything, do you? I do a lot of the cooking around here, too."

The young Australian wandered over to the sink, washing her hands just in case Mr. Bones had been rolling around in anything. It was entirely possible - thankfully he didn't stink, but he was still a dog, even if he didn't look normal.

"There's food and drinks in the fridge, go ahead and help yourself if you want anything."

Mr. Bones had jumped onto the couch that Juggernaut usually occupied, and Angie wondered what the big man would do if he found the little dog on there.

"G'on, get off." She shooed him off the couch and busied herself with pulling bits and pieces out of the various cupboards and the fridge, happy to carry on a conversation while she went about preparing dinner.

"There's Maccas - uh, McDonalds - in the freezer, should be pretty easy to cook if you ever felt like it." Angie hadn't cooked any yet, and wasn't intending to. She'd never really been a big fan of McDonalds, and she was just a little worried about whether Dead Man had done anything to it just for fun.

Well, if he had a sense of humour, she was sure it would be sick.

[deadman]

Think of the Devil, and he shall arrive.

This time, though, the Devil looked quite a bit different than normal. Whatever one may have imagined he'd look after most of his organs had been turned into scented sawdust he didn't know, but for the most part the material had settled lower in his body. His legs looked fine(though still thin,) as did his arms, but his torso was far more gaunt in the upper chest and lumpy in the lower abdomen. His neck was nearly empty, the skin there flapping loosely. His face was the worst of all, the epidermis lacking muscle beneath it, and not quite stretched over the bones completely. His lids were slightly drooped, exposing an extra large portion of the bottom of the whites of his eyes, and almost all of the smoldering red cornea. He looked like a skull (now a metallic skull) with someone's ripped off face hanging from it. Somehow the face still held something of moisture, however, though Dead Man never quite knew how.

Over his shoulder he held a rather large burlap sack, which clearly must have held the remaining stuffing he needed for his interior, and he smell that drifted from him was quite pleasant, actually - the antithesis of his former rotting body.

“Hello Sweet Nightingale...” He whispered hoarsely. Mr. Bones perked up, what was left of his bony tail was wagging furiously as he ran at his master. Dead Man didn't move at all save for his arm, which he reached out just as the little dog leaped into it. Squirming happily, the pooch snuggled up against the jacket that covered the sunken chest of the Dead Man.

Red eyes rolled in their sockets to regard Roy, and Dead Man offered up a smile... which looked completely unnatural. Not only because of his mannerism (though definately partly because of that), but because he had no muscles in his face. Somehow, though, the skin moved to accommodate the expression, controlled by the dark power that gave his corpse animation.

“Welcome to Genosha. I am the Dead Man.”

[Gunslinger]

Roy was about to reply when a pair of quiet footsteps caught his attention. Turning his head, he found himself looking at the most disturbing sight walking about under its own power that he had ever seen. What wasn't hidden behind clothing looking like a bundle of skin haphazardly hung around bones.

Well, Mr. Bones seems to like him, he thought as the small skeletal dog practically flew through the air to get to the skin bundle. Of course, Mr. Bones doesn't have a brain.

His face split into a broad, warm, and most importantly, genuine-appearing smile. "You certainly are. They call me Gunslinger." He took a step forward and stuck his hand out.

[Nightingale]

Oh! Oh! Ew!

"Hey Dead Man." How she managed to sound so casual, Angie would never know. "You're done with Dharma then? I'll help you out with the rest of it later - but not in the kitchen. I need medical supplies anyway, for sutures and stuff - did the animates find a first aid room or anything?"

Apparently she was going Batshit Crazy cooped up in this base with a bunch of assorted strange mutants and a few corpses thrown in for good measure. That seemed like a good explanation for how she could speak so easily of animates and cutting Dead Man open, and not throw up at the fact that he was making himself smile when it was clearly not natural for him to be doing that, and - maybe worst of all - feeling jealousy at how quickly a Zombie Dog abandoned her for his real master.

"Just give me a few minutes to get dinner in the oven and then I can finish what Dharma started." She almost burst into hysterical giggles again thinking about the 'Dead Man's anus' conversation that Dharma had started.

Sometimes she was just a teenaged girl, after all.

[deadman]

Good. The Brotherhood were recruiting mutants who either lacked normal human fear or were made of stern enough stuff to see past the obvious. Dead Man appreciated that, and in turn showed them respect. He may not be out for much more than himself, and the general cause of sewing chaos and suffering, but he did understand a certain level of professional courtesy. He was currently aligned with the Brotherhood in a working capacity, and therefore would act in every way as a BH member should.

He smiled a bit wider, showing Teeth that lacked gums – instead attached to what appeared to be iron. In fact, as his face moved, glimpses of the dark metal could be seen where normally he’d have either muscle or bone. Only his teeth were ordinary.

As he clasped hands with Gunslinger, he gave a nod. Dead Man’s hands were odd, feeling just as you’d expect a corpse with skin a size or two bigger than it should be.

“Well met, Gunslinger.” He said, red eyes sizing up the other man.

"You're done with Dharma then? I'll help you out with the rest of it later - but not in the kitchen. I need medical supplies anyway, for sutures and stuff - did the animates find a first aid room or anything?"

Dead Man turned at the sound of Angie’s voice and nodded. “The Monk’s alchemy ability is instantaneous it would seem. A very impressive power, indeed. The animates did find the medical room,” and he explained the directions to it. It wasn’t far, but one floor below the ground level.

"Just give me a few minutes to get dinner in the oven and then I can finish what Dharma started."

“Very well, and again I thank you. I will be in the Medical Facility. You can take your time, I will find a way to entertain myself.”

He gave one last smile to Angie, and nodded again to Roy before turning to leave. Before he got out the door, though, he paused. “Apparently Mr. Bones has taken a fondness to you… I expected as much in the beginning. Once more I request that you look after him a bit.”

He looked back. “He’s something of an unruly sort, and requires too much concentration for my preferences. A peculiar animate.”

With that, he sat Mr. Bones down and left in that jerky, awkward gait of his. Mr. Bones looked after him for a moment, then ran back into the kitchen and started spinning in circles again.

[Gunslinger]

Even though the smile remained warm and his eyes kept their cheerful sparkle, Roy's skin was crawling as the too-thin hand gripped his. So. Not. Natural. Roy was definitely beginning to question his wisdom in journeying here. So far the count for the Brotherhood was two to three: Angie and Mr. Bones versus the spiders, the Dead Man and The Hallway.

Even the Dead Man wasn't worse than that damn Hallway.

Listening to the other conversation (and quickly deciding it wasn't anything he really wanted to know about in too much detail), he busied himself with looking through the fridge, only pausing to throw a quick salute as the walking corpse headed out. Watching Mr. Bones chase his own skeletal tail, Roy scratched his chest. "So... that was him. Seems like a fun-lovin' guy."

[Nightingale]

"Yes. That was Dead Man. To be honest, I don't know if he actually has a real name anymore... I think he used to run with the Brotherhood back before all the big stuff went down, seems to know what's going on and all. He wasn't actually dead the first time I met him. Still kinda creepy though." Who was she kidding? 'Kinda' did not belong in that sentence.

Angie kept layering ingredients into a dish, feeling rather uncomfortable at the prospect of going down to the med lab to work on Dead Man all on her own. Maybe she could con Pyro into coming down to keep her company - but he didn't seem to like Dead Man all that much. Dharma, maybe, if he ever came back up from the beach now that he had his temple.

She whistled quietly, bringing the hyperactive Mr. Bones over to her feet, where he did his best to jump up her legs. The young Australian saw it as an improvement over the running in circles where anyone could trip over him, though.

"He died in Baltimore. Got fried by one of the X-Men, from the looks of it. By the time I got there it was too late - then I get a phone call from him last time we were in New York, before Pyro came to pick you up I mean, scared the shit out of me." It was easy for her to just keep talking, since Roy seemed nice enough and she was still trying to make him comfortable stuck in all this metal.

"Didn't look so weird back then, hopefully he'll be back to normal once I'm done with him." She made a face down at the lasagne, putting another layer of pasta down.

"But I'm rambling - can you tell the idea of cutting him open isn't the most fun thought I've ever had? Sorry. If you need anything, you know, just ask. If I can't help you we can go find Gill. He lives upstairs, smokes a lot, and has the head of a fish. Just so you know. Can be a bit of a shock." It had taken her a little while to get used to it, but once she'd gotten past the 'Oh-em-gee it's a half-fish man' thing, Angie had grown to be quite fond of Gill. The stories he had could be amazing - but some of his screensavers were downright scary.

[Gunslinger]

Roy listened curiously as she related Dead Man's story. "Died in battle and came back, huh? Sounds like the Highlander." He shook his head in amazement at just what mutants could do. "Just doesn't seem possible."

Of course, Mr. Bones was up and running around, giving further testament to the impossibility of impossibility.

And so did a man with a fish head. "So... he actually has a fish head?" he asked, trying to picture it.

He hoped more people than just Gill didn't smoke. It wasn't really a habit he could afford to pick back up.

[Nightingale]

"The Highlander?" Angie looked a little confused, but she just shrugged and went back to layering her giant lasagne. Almost finished.

"Yup, he really does have a fish head. The rest of him seems pretty much normal... Although his feet are a bit bigger than normal. You'll know him when you see him." A final layer of cheese - Angie liked cheese, and anyone that wanted less cheese in their lasagne could do the cooking for themselves - and she stuck it in the oven, twisting the timer around and hoping that things with Dead Man wouldn't take too long.

Probably best to just get it over and done with.

"Well... I better go play around in the med lab. So yeah. You're right to find your way around? I hopefully won't be too long, but if I don't see you around I'll... uh, see you around."

Offering him one last smile, slightly less bright and enthusiastic then before since she was faced with slicing into an animate corpse the moment she left, Angie nodded slightly and headed out of the kitchen.

[Exit Angie]