Public Anomie [IC]

[Ecalsneerg]

Entering the office, Geckoman knelt down on the floor beside the masked man and examined his face with a discerning eye, listening carefully to the man's words. It was the stillest and quietest any of them had ever seen the young man.

"They really did a number," he said softly. And then he stood up and faced the group. In a lower voice he continued. "It's obvious he still has some conditioning left in there. Currently, his personality is stuck... well, somewhere in his head. The head bit's fairly obvious. And it's coming out of whatever door you guys made. But there's still a door, and it could still be slammed shut again. Get me?"

He turned and knelt back down beside the Kevlar clad man. "Listen, dude, whatever you can tell us," he said gently, toying with the removed mask. Loss of identity by making him faceless, probably not going to help us. "We can nail whoever did this to you. Even if it seems half-remembered, or makes like no sense, or if you don't understand it, we can try to piece it together and find this guy. We need your help, uh... what's your name?"

[trollthumper]

"Jack," said the man. "Jack Renner. I... don't really know what's going on. I'm an orderly, man. I was hired on at -- "

"The Faith Wilkins Center?" Cannonade asked.

Jack started. "How did you know?"

"Eh, lucky guess. So, your boss give you any special pep talks? Slip anything weird into your coffee?"

"N - no. He has me work long hours, but..." His brow furrowed. "Wait... there was this night about a week back. I was working late, and... I can't really remember what happened. I remember going in to clean this dark room, and... then my shift was over. I wrote it off, 'cause I'd just given up caffeine and was going into withdrawal. I kinda started 'sundowning', and going to be early..."

"Yeah, I don't think was the caffeine." Joe thought on what to say next. "You see anything weird while you were there?"

"No," Jake said. "This is my first time working at the place. I took a lot for granted. But..."

"But what?"

"I saw a lot of guys on staff carrying ink. Like, a lot of them. And I'm not the most conservant guy on those things, but I think I saw a gang sign or two. I thought they were some of Wilkins's old cases, people who'd been rehabed. But they weren't really chatty, y'know? Always gave me the cold shoulder."

"So she's dipping into the patient pool, then."

"She?" Jake looked confused. "Dr. Wilkins is a guy. Dr. Warren Wilkins."

[Ecalsneerg]

"Hmmm," pondred the debonair diplodactylid, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. Or at least trying to, his cunning scheme foiled by the dastardly gel and wax therein. "Sounds like someone's been working mind mojo, the asshole."

His lips moved soundlessly, but rapidly, as Geckoman clearly thought over the issue. "Jack, do you know who Faith Wilkins was ir? Like, Dr Wilkins' wife, daughter, mother, grandmother, favourite aunt, that sort of thing?"

[trollthumper]

Jack furrowed his brow. "Dr. Wilkins didn't really talk much about her," he said. "He told us she was another victim, the kind of person we needed to work to save. He never really gave us more detail than that. But the girl in the portrait looked pretty young - not like a little girl, but like a teenager."

"And now he's working to 'fix' other teens by rewiring their brains," Joe said. "Looks like he learned a good lesson from her. You mind telling us a bit more about your work place, Jake? Like the layout?"

Jake's account of the Faith Wilkins Center was sparse, but gave them enough info to go on. It was built more like a mansion than a hospital - as Ironclad's research had turned up, this was because it had started life as one, but the oil magnate who owned it left it to the state of New Jersey after dying without a heir. It had been a convalescent home before the owners moved to a more low-maintenance facility, and Wilkins had bought it at public auction. It served mostly as an outpatient facility, but there were a few rooms upstairs meant for those who were considered risks to themselves or others.

"All right, so how are we going into this?" Joe asked the group. "Do we all wanna go in the front, or should she --" He gestured to Ironclad. "-- go in the front while we go in the back?"

[Quinn]

Morgan closed his eyes, letting his mind worry at the layout the young man had explained. The types of people there; this Warren Wilkins, how the man fought through the young fellow's mind (although the specifics of this whole mental control dealie eluded him). His own focus actually surprised him; inwardly he had finally shifted from gibbering terror at the thought of being caught by the Headmaster on this shindig, to calm acceptance. He was doomed. Dead. 100% royally screwed. Goose was cooked. Headmaster'd send a letter home. His dad'd kill him. Not to mention what his mother would do. Might as well go out fighting the good fight. The young man stepped backwards, speaking quietly in the same flat tone as earlier.

"Can make a plan, but I need more information. Need a map, blueprints of the building if possible. Need to avoid collateral damage going through the building. Fallback places Wilkins might retreat to. Escape routes to cover."

Morgan Crowe might've been young, but a school of hard knocks like the Boston back alleys, fighting and ambushing assorted thugs and eldrich nasties of all shapes and sizes, had taught him very well indeed.

[Raveled]

"I might be able to get the floorplans," Ironclad said. "City hall's a wonderful tool. But when I go walking in through the front door, I'm going to need some help. I'm pretty bright, but psychology is not my field." She turned to Geckoman, addressing the mohawked hero directly. "All I can do is quote Wikipedia articles verbatim, and that won't get me far with experts. I don't know how much you've studied it, but I'm guessing that you can hold your own in a psychotherapy discussion better than I can. Want to be a Lab intern for a day?"

[Aoiroo]

Sil had remained silent most the time. It didn't require her input, she knew what was happening she was angry about it, but it didn't require her input. Until of course they were talking about the layout. This was something,

"I'll go in."

She said it rather quietly,

"Blueprints are nice, layouts too, but the best way to observe a buildings layout is to actually observe it first hand."

She tapped her mask,

"I do have a radio in here so I can keep contact on anybody on the same frequency which Ironclad can probably do. So I'll do recon, tell you what I've found. I can be in and out before anybody ever knows I was there, it is something of a specialty of mine."

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure I could just pass myself off as a psychology student. Redye my hair a different colour, put on some specs with plain glass in the frames, and we could walk in and out the front door."

He scratched at his mohawk. "Which is probably going to take me all night. That said, it's not like we'd be going there now anyway. I think we should get some rest before going in, just in case things go south. It's harder to resist your brain going screwy if you're tired."

[Aoiroo]

"Maybe you aren't, but I don't think you can stop me from doing so."

She scribbled a radio frequence on a piece of paper from her pocket with what looked like the worlds thinnest pen,

"Dial that in to keep contact, I'm going ahead."

She said it without little more input as she disappeared on the spot, at least to their eyes and walked over to her car.

When she got to the facility, she tested radio and found Ironclad had kept contact. Entering the facility she relayed what she saw in faint whispers as she walked, not that anybody noticed her, or really looked like they could. The empty barely locked rooms didn't look like they had people in them, they looked like they had dolls lined up to be played with, except the further down the shelf she went the more broken she saw them. One person she saw just laying on his bed staring at the ceiling with a vacant expression like he didn't even know where he was or what hew as supposed to be doing. It made her sick, and it made her angry, but she delivered the report like always. She told them where they could come in without fuss, and the security rotation and timing they'd have to do. She didn't want to wait any longer, this guy was going down tonight, before he broke someone else.

[Raveled]

Ironclad raised an eye at Silhoutte's actions, but didn't make a move to stop her. If the other woman wanted to do a recon, then that was her decision to make. Instead, she addressed Cannonade and Geckoman. "So Geckoman, if you can get to the Lab by eight, eight fifteen tomorrow morning and ask for me, I'll have your identity all set up. And maybe a couple of extra toys. Cannonade, we should get to the Center by eight forty-five or so, traffic pending. Sound good?"

[trollthumper]

"Sounds good to me," said Joe. He looked down at the brainwashed guy, hoping he wouldn't remember his face. "I'll stay on the outside, in case things go weird. I mean, unless you think I should apply for a janitor position. I could try and be a nurse, but the second they ask me anything medical, I'd probably give the game away."

---

Sunday, July 10th

8:46 AM

The Faith Wilkins Center, as the image on the website promised, came with its own sense of grandeur. A converted mansion that lost none of its distinctiveness in the switchover, it rose above the grounds, promising a place of respite. The walk up the circular driveway from the street was brisk, and Wilkins was waiting for Ironclad and Geckoman as they got there. He looked like a call back to another era - hair parted down the middle, sweater vest and khakis, and a warm and genial smile.

"Glad to see you could make it," he said. "Come in, come in. Always good to meet with colleagues. Is there anything I can get for you? Coffee? Water?"

Meanwhile, across the street, Cannonade and Crow were hidden away in a small van, also property of the Lab. They were hearing everything, thanks to Ironclad's set-up. Silhouette was walking in with them, trailing behind the two pressed flat to the ground.

[Raveled]

Jessica Parker had dressed for a business meeting this morning in a charcoal gray suit, dark flats, a blindingly white silk blouse, and a dark vest. Her short hair was held back off her face with a pair of brushed steel clips, and the only jewelery she wore was a titanium bracelet. She approached the Center in her own car and by a different route than the Lab van she had signed out for Silhouette and Cannonade. All told the subterfuge was a different approach for her, and quite invigorating. Still, she worked to keep her face neutral as she walked up to the building and met Wilkins.

"Coffee's always welcome," she said, "but I was hoping we could get down to business quickly, Director Wilkins. The Lab's always interested in cutting-edge, radical techniques and your results can't be argued with. I think we have much to offer each other."

[Ecalsneerg]

Chris was clad in a smart suit of dark navy fabric, over a shirt of a much paler blue. His hair had been cropped short and bleached to a brilliant blond, and he had pale blue contacts in his eyes. Glasses with a thin black frame and false lenses were perched precariously on his nose, and he had topped off the entire outfit with a green tie.

"привет!" he said cheerfully in a mild Russian accent, moving to shake the Director's hand. And all the while he prayed he would not have to use any other Russian words, as he only knew one. "I am Kristoff Sergeyevich, and I am big fan of your vork."

He extricated himself from the handshake, and grinned broadly. "Da. Coffee vould be velcome."

[trollthumper]

"Very well," Wilkins said. "If you'll come this way."

Wilkins led Jessica and Chris into the reception area for the Wilkins Center. Like the outside, it was still very much in the model of a converted mansion - a top-of-the-line desk with a top-of-the-line computer, manned by a top-of-the-line receptionist, wedged in the empty space between two descending stair cases, leading to rooms above. On the second floor, overlooking the lobby, hung a portrait of a young, smiling woman in formal dress.

"I believe one of our doctors is overseeing a therapy session. We mainly use humanist techniques here - getting young men and women to embrace the inner self and build it up, helping them to rely more on themselves and less on the pressures of the world. Or perhaps you'd like to see some of our charges in a more casual environment?"

[Raveled]

"I think it would be a good idea to view the on-site living quarters," Jessica said, eying the computer and the internet line feeding out the back. She had an impulse to try and hack in now, while Wilkins was still waiting for a response, but her better judgement overrode that. Hacking in with her powers could leave her checked-out mentally, and she didn't want to have Wilikins suspect anything until the last moment. Still, with luck the bunks for patients would be monitored and that could well be a back-door into the system.

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman scanned the room very obviously. After all, it was a facility tour, so looking round was expected, regardless of the mission objective. Pretty normal, he thought, before looking up at the picture overlooking the lobby. He pensively stroked at his chin as he looked around the room, enjoying the feel of his scratchy chin. Stubble was very uncomfortable under a mask covering most of the face, so he usually kept himself clean shaven.

"Is dat, uh, the Faith Wilkins?" asked 'Kristoff' carefully in his Russian accent.

[trollthumper]

"Oh?" Doctor Wilkins turned his attention towards the portrait. "Yes, that is Faith." He still had that same peppy, upbeat spark as before, but it was as if a thick, damp cloth had been thrown over it. "She was a great girl. Dedicated, full of the spark of life. But she found the wrong outlets. She was led astray by the world around her. She grew so angry..."

Wilkins shook his head. "No father should have to bury their daughter. I can't help her, but I can honor her memory. There are many out there, dealing with the tempestuous transition through adolescence. Some of them are led astray by those who feed on anger, grief, and fear. I'm trying to show them that they are strong enough on their own to deal with the trials of youth."

"By locking them away in their heads," said Cannonade over the headset. "That's one hell of a way to honor her."

[Raveled]

Jessica frowned slightly as Geckoman-slash-Kristoff pulled Director Wilkins off to talk about a random painting -- and then her eyes slid over to the computer and she realized that the superhero was giving her the opening she needed to do her cyberpath voodoo. The young genius found a comfortable spot of wall and leaned back against it; this wasn't strictly necessary, when she went out of her head she didn't collapse or anything, but she always felt foolish just standing there, swaying gently while her brain interacted with silicon. She closed her eyes and...

... Slid down highways of neon green and electric blue, navigating the crude interface being used by the secretary like a NASCAR driver would navigate a roundabout. And why not? The other woman would be happy with a couple hundred characters per minute -- Jessica could program virtual worlds in that time! Ahead of her, just in front of the stacks and towers that represented the Institute's network, towered an imposing slab of fire-orange that stretched towards infinity. The firewall would be her first real obstacle, but Jessica wasn't about to let herself get stopped by a security system that probably came out of a box! She rolled up her digital sleeves and flew towards the barrier, moving as fast as electric conduction.

[Aoiroo]

Silhouette stalked the cooridors setting, she was more pacing as she moved to get a count of the facility. There were maybe thirty or so patients on site, and probably a little less then that for staff. She moved through checking the rooms and doors, then monitoring. There was minor security staff, but nothing they couldn't handle. That wasn't the problem though. She found a secluded area away from any earshot before she tapped the communication link,

"There's a lot more staff here during the day then at night, and that lunatic's probably set all the patients and staff to come to his aid if we try something. Clad, can you rig the system for the electric locks to be nonreactive to the key cards while I go around and jam the manuals so we can isolate him?"

[Raveled]

Jessica's mind continued to work rapidly as she scanned the available data. Her gut said they were in the right place, but there just weren't the facts to back it up! They had a musician diagnosed as depressed who tried to commit suicide, and a worker at the Center who tried to choke a club owner and who had co-opted some of the Center's rhetoric. None of it pointed conclusively to Wilikins, or any other therapist, as being involved.

She received the request from Silhouette and sat on it for a few seconds of real time, an eternity in the digital realm. Finally she transmitted back to the sneak. "Silhouette, I'm unlocking some of the rooms for the patients Wilikins works with personally. See if any of them remember the dark man, like Kyle talked about. I'll handle the security." And she did so, unlocking the doors and setting the cameras to loop almost as fast as thinking, as she turned her attention to the camera recordings. If she could watch the encounter between Jack Renner and whoever had programmed him, that would be solid evidence.

[Ecalsneerg]

"Oh?" Doctor Wilkins turned his attention towards the portrait. "Yes, that is Faith." He still had that same peppy, upbeat spark as before, but it was as if a thick, damp cloth had been thrown over it. "She was a great girl. Dedicated, full of the spark of life. But she found the wrong outlets. She was led astray by the world around her. She grew so angry..."

Wilkins shook his head. "No father should have to bury their daughter. I can't help her, but I can honor her memory. There are many out there, dealing with the tempestuous transition through adolescence. Some of them are led astray by those who feed on anger, grief, and fear. I'm trying to show them that they are strong enough on their own to deal with the trials of youth."

"Da, da," nodded 'Kristoff' to the director's explanation. "She sounds like she vas a vonderful person." He ignored the chatter on the headsets, knowing that he couldn't actually do very much in the actual mechanics of this operation. What he could do was keep Doctor Wilkins distracted so that Ironclad could do her thing.

But it wasn't just that. This was a man who was genuinely hurt and troubled by his daughter's death. Even if he was partly responsible for what was happening to these poor people, Chris couldn't help but feel for the man, to have suffered such tragedy. He had friends who'd experienced loss, and he was grateful he wasn't one of them. Nonetheless... this was wrong.

"I think it is good you honour her memory in such a vay," he lied.

[Aoiroo]

The doors unlocked fine, and Silhouette appeared in the hallway. She let out a sigh and used the door handle, which was a bit weird considering, but suddenly appearing out of nowhere wasn't a good idea for people in a mental hospital. The room was small and it smelled like a hospital room, sterile and nausiating. There was one person on the bed, he looked like what could of been a younger Gene Simmons, only with more tattoos that seemed to stop at the color and edge of where a long sleeve shirt would cover up. He was fairly quiet, so she broke the silence,

"Hello, I'm Silhouette. I'm wondering if maybe you can give me some insight about what's happening here. I mean, the treatments that have been given here, they've had some strange side effects, have you noticed anything strange?"

[trollthumper]

"What?" The young metalhead took some time to snap out of something like a stupor. It took him some time to realize that there was a completely black-clad woman in his room. He leaned back into his bed, like he was withdrawing. "Y... you a hero or something? There something going on here? Knew that guy was a quack. My folks told me I had to go here or I'd have to pay for college on my own. Shouldn't have come home for Thanksgiving with a full sleeve. It's boring as crap - no real music, no good games, lots of soft stuff and talk about feelings." He furrowed his brow. "Though... starting to think there's drugs here. I mean, they hand out pills to the kids with the real problems, but... well, whenever I go into sessions with Dr. Wilkins, I start feeling fuzzy. I come out feeling good about myself, but like I can't really remember what happened."

Ironclad and Geckoman were able to pick up the metalhead's account via their headpieces, as did Cannonade and Crow in the van. Cannonade went up and stood at the door, ready in case Geckoman decided to give the signal to hit the place. Meanwhile, Silhouette could hear steps coming down the hall. One of the orderlies was approaching...

[Raveled]

Jessica's findings were less than concrete. Jack Renner had gone into Wilkins' office, there was a break in the recording, then he came out and went about his day. She dithered in her head. There was a mountain of evidence against Wilkins, but it wall circumstantial. There was nothing firm to point to him as the mastermind behind all of this. Jessica always tried to operate within the bounds of the law, even as a superhero, and right now she was inclined to pull out and let the situation develop more. However, she wasn't the only hero here.

Geckoman, she transmitted. Not quite a victory on the computers, not quite a loss. Lots of odd circumstances surrounding Wilikins. Should we pressure him or group?

[Ecalsneerg]

"Kristoff" just shook his head almost imperceptible. They couldn't just blow this operation on circumstantial evidence, but it did look suspicious as all hell. So the only logical progression in an investigation would be to find out more.

Besides, if it turned into a fight, he was unarmed and Jessica was unarmoured, and it might not go very well. Marvelous recuperative powers or not, getting punched hurt.

"Vould there be any way we could observe vun of your sessions?" asked the "Russian psychologist". "I feel it vould help us understand your approach to the profession."