thefuzzyguy | If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other.

If there's trouble, all us freaks have is each other.

Kurt had proved very hard to control for such a little guy. His teleporting could be controlled with stolen MRD technology, modified so as to be a bit less safe and a lot more punishing if he tried to get the collar off. But the mild, frightened kid they'd caught had turned into a determined little terror, and his various infractions had gotten him condemned to increasingly unpleasant confinement. A cell large enough to climb around in let him try to ambush the scientists coming to look at him. A confined space left him at an advantage over anyone without night vision, a prehensile tail, and a wicked kick. In the end, they'd settled on a modified version of the heavy-duty manacles that kept the most dangerous subjects spread-eagled against the wall. He didn't fit perfectly and might have found a way to slip even that, so they'd turned it upside-down. His physiology kept it from being agonizing the way being held that way would have been for a normal human, but it did leave him light-headed and dizzy, and he finally seemed subdued.

What the great minds of Hydra had missed was that Kurt had never intended to hurt anyone. He just wanted to get out. What came after that he didn't know. If he went home they'd find him again. They might hurt his parents. But the one thought he could keep clear under the muting influence of the collar and being held like a giant blue bat all the time was that he needed to get out.

The thick walls and the constant blood pounding in his head made it hard to pick out, but there was suddenly enough noise in the hallway to catch his attention. He groggily lifted his head, squinting toward the bars in the door.

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Hydra must be looking to offer pay raises soon. Because if they thought Kurt was difficult to control, this one was going to be twice as bad. They had only just been able to tranquilize the beast enough to where he'd changed back. Now, as the guards and scientists were hurrying the subject (that would be the unconscious skinny man strapped to the stretcher) towards a specially prepared cell, they were taking every precaution.

Bruce was strung up similarily, though right side up, with his arms straight over his head into a specialized steel holder that attached up to the ceiling. His feet in one on the floor. The muffled voices went up a notch when Bruce cracked open an eye but he shut it again without comment.

Captured. One of his least favorite words.

After they've finished securing him and setting up the video feed for security, they quickly leave to analyze the blood samples they've taken from him. Leaving Bruce looking like he's still sleeping standing up due to the shackles. The wall and door to his cell have long windows with steel frames around them. More like something from a high pressure submarine instead of a cell.

Kurt's view of the cell across the way isn't very good, but he's been able to see enough to be curious as to what they thought they'd keep in there. An elephant? His guess was definitely not some skinny guy, but who was he to judge from appearances? The man didn't look too good. Kurt frowned, not sure he was in any position to assess someone else's wellbeing. But he should at least try to communicate a little. What were they going to do to him at this point?

Of course, the only question available was a stupid one. He didn't think it'd really matter. The guy would probably be scared of him anyway. "Are you okay?" His accent was very strong, but at least he'd managed to go with the right language this time. Getting them scrambled was a recurring problem lately. He'd tried to talk to his interrogators in Russian twice and French once.

Bruce opens tired eyes, a weak retort planned for whoever just gave him such a dumb question. But it wasn't the scientists or guards from Hydra. It was someone across the way in another cell. He couldn't make him out just yet but Bruce knew it wasn't a foe that had spoken.

A wry smirk on his lips, he answers, "Just chilling out." If you could call being strapped between the ceiling and floor chilling out.

"Ja, it's a great vacation spot," Kurt said with a weak attempt at a smile. It's not much, but he hadn't heard many kind words in the who-knows-how-long since he was captured. And of course it's from the stranger he can barely see across the hall. "But, um, if you are hurt, they try und keep us in working order. If you did need to try und get a doctor's attention." The dumb muscle securing victims inside the cell and the occasional ranking officer come to gloat aren't very good at spotting the difference between bruised and dangerously battered.

Bruce lets out a sigh. "You don't need to worry. I just twitch wrong, someone will come running." Or likely he was already hooked up to something monitoring his heartbeat, ready to dose him up with more tranquilizer the moment he tried to change to the Hulk.

Now was the time for clear headed thinking. And Bruce just wasn't quite there yet. Right now he was thinking this was a really bad situation and the other half of his brain was going no kidding, genius!

He blinks a few times to try and clear his vision, trying to figure out where the guy's head was. It hadn't occurred to him that he might be upsidedown. "They let the natives talk to each other down here?"

"I guess so? No one's been across from me. But what are we going to do? Tell the giant metal restraints to let us go?" It's nice to think about fomenting rebellion and escape, but they're all on camera, there are guards everywhere, and they're all locked down as hard as can be. It probably just isn't worth their time to keep their pets from communicating. "They'll let us know if they get annoyed. My collar has a shock function, anyway."

"It's as good an idea as any." Probably would make just as much sense as struggling and calling for help.

Bruce frowns deeper, knowing the implications of having a shock collar. "They must really want to hang onto you," he says sympathetically.

And now he can see him in the dark. "Oh...sorry, with the drugs, I thought I was imagining the blue."

He used to hate being looked at by strangers, but he's had to grow a thicker skin. "They don't want to let me go, anyway. I don't think they've made a lot of progress. They can't study me unless they take the collar off, und if they do, I'll just--" And that does it. Apparently the prisoners aren't supposed to compare notes on powers. If he'd thought about it he'd probably have figured that out. It does seem like the first step to making a plan. But at the moment he's mainly dealing with being a bit electrocuted. The shock isn't supposed to be quite this bad, but his fur conducts the voltage into something a little extra. "Ouch."

Bruce tenses at the sound of a shock but manages to rein in his anger before he gets himself doped up again. His mouth still sets in a thin line of calm disapproval.

"...you alright?" he asks once it goes quiet again. He didn't want to be the reason this poor guy gets shocked.

Edited 2013-01-27 03:33 (UTC)

"Ja... I guess... Small talk only." Kurt's only just fifteen and was, until recently, very naive, but recent events have forced him to be observant enough to do what he can with limited information. He almost doesn't mind the clear signal that he doesn't get to talk about anything important. At least there's someone to talk to.

"S'alright..." he could talk till they put him out. Bruce really didn't care one bit at the moment. "I can guess. You're a mutant, right?" He'd heard of them a bit through the media, of course nothing good, but they never had anything good to say about the Hulk either.

"Ja, we guess? The ones on TV only get weird when they're my age, though. I always looked like this." Not that he has any idea of what he could be besides a mutant. Leaving aside the theory that he was a baby krampus, anyway, which he'd considered the best available idea when he was four.

"It's not a bad guess." Aliens, maybe but who wants to open that can of worms? Not Bruce.

He lapses into silence, feeling very much a prisoner right now. "How long have you been here?" he asks quietly. Bruce really shouldn't be asking such depressing questions.

There aren't any other questions, though, are there? "I've kind of lost track. The collar und hanging like this all the time make it so they don't even have to drug me. Long enough that even my tail feels atrophied." The restraints do provide mild muscle stimulation to keep from leaving the prisoners crippled, but Kurt's used to constant motion. He might already be going insane. It's hard to tell.

Bruce is practiced at staying calm. But with the blood Hydra just took from him, he's no doubt, given enough time, they will figure out how to make more gamma monsters.

And he's not having that.

"No way to slip out?" Bruce tries to crane his neck so he can see better. Was his tail restrained too? His initial thought being to put it between the collar and the neck to give it a pulse to track. Then he could slip out of it unnoticed.

He's apparently allowed to talk when he's being pessimistic and assuring his fellow prisoner that they're trapped forever. "Nein, everything's locked up but my tail, und it doesn't do me any good when I can't move anything else." Kurt has just enough knowledge of ordinary technology to kick the TV until it behaves. When it comes to crazy secret superscience, it might as well be magic. He tried hitting it when he first arrived and it just hurt. He hasn't really had any ideas since.

Now that he was less drugged up, Bruce's scientific brain was starting to click it's gears together again.

He was going to have to tell this guy...

"Er, sorry this is late but what's your name?" He hadn't even asked.

Bruce was going to have to find a way to communicate his ideas without letting their captors know.

"Das macht nichts. ...Er, no problem. I'm Kurt." He'd conceal that, but he let it slip when they first caught him. At least his last time is still a secret. He's mostly sure they know exactly who and where his parents are, but on the off chance they're bluffing, he's not giving them anything. Fortunately, Kurt's just an ordinary name.

"Kurt...I'm Bruce." His last name was definitely known but no need to bring it up just yet.

He made as if he was just looking idly at the floor again but very quietly, below a whisper, he plays a hunch. "How good is your hearing?"

He had noticed the pointed ears.

He's never been a fan of the Hulk stories, anyway. The news, as a rule, is depressing and, up until a few months ago, never had any effect on him.

Kurt jumps the very little bit his restraints allow him to. He can just barely catch the words, but he gets the idea. But there's nothing to suggest his co-conspirator has equally good hearing. "Uh, pretty good." He pauses as long as he dares to make it clear he's trying to answer. "Name. Good name." Babbling nonsense, but he's pretty prone to nonsense anyway. Hopefully their captors won't pick up on it that fast.

Good. The kid was quick for being hung upside down for who knows how long.

Bruce waits a moment before asking another question aloud, "When do they eat around here?" and then the second one very quiet, "Alright, I can't promise this will work. Just keep giving me stuff to answer."

Edited 2013-01-27 04:28 (UTC)

He's no supergenius, but he's sneaky. "Um, it's hard to judge time like this. I don't get hungry fast when I'm not moving. Do you?" It's... well, it's something to answer. He's trying his best to focus, but there's going to be a lot of uncontrolled blather.

Hopefully Hydra will get confused by the blather while they're trying to do something else.

"I'm always hungry. Higher metabolism. I guess you teenagers know something about that, huh?"

"This will sound strange but can you spit at your restraints?" Bruce knows these types of restraints are for holding people but their downside is being electronically controlled. Enough moisture and they would short out like a fuse.

It certainly does, but he's willing to try anything and making sense isn't a big priority since he's been living with a constant headrush. "Ja, probably. About being hungry, I mean." He hopes this is going somewhere. It's a real strain on his limited faculties to come up with halfway plausible responses.

"What's that accent, German?"

"If you get it wet enough, it should short out and let go. But you won't have much time when it does."

"I shouldn't say anything, you should hear my spanish."

"If you can get your tail between your neck and your collar, that could block the sensor for a time too."

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