[sub][h3][center]Nicholas[/center][/h3][/sub][hr] Nic slipped into the elevator with the rest of the crew, lamenting the loss of life by biting his lower hard as if he were trying to cut a steel cable with his teeth. Seeing the puddle of person that had so recently been one of his own kind compelled him to start holding his breath, locking his lungs tight and throwing away the key, just in case he'd inhale their remains on accident. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Archie, diagonol to Lynn luminescent skull, as they were joined by a couple of beta male Spire employees. Making himself as large as possible, he finally gave a yawn, raising his arms and shuddering violently as the shock of fresh air flash-froze his waterlogged brain, stretching out until the workers settled in, staring at the door. [B]ATTENTION. PARAHUMAN PSYCHIATRIC WARD CONTAINMENT BREACH. ALL PERSONELLE RETURN TO NEAREST SHELTER AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION[/B] "That'll wake you up!" the first Spire worker shouted. "Just another day in paradise, eh," the closer drone huffed, elbowing Nic in the ribs. "I don't get paid enough for this shit." Nic felt a navy blue surge through his nerves as his entire intestinal tract reared up on it's hind legs and whinnied. He felt every muscle in his body tense while his fingers rolled tighter than the newspapers his father used to beat his mother with. [B]ATTENTION. PARAHUMAN PSYCHIATRIC WARD CONTAINMENT BREACH. ALL PERSONELLE RETURN TO NEAREST SHELTER AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION[/B] It suddenly became apparent exactly how inconspicuous he wasn't, as he tasted a bead of sweat slump into his mouth. He felt the tang of gasoline torching his taste buds as the sweet stink of napalm wafted into his nostrils, down from his sticky, flaky, upright, inch-long einstein hair. Underneath the labcoat, he felt the plastic residue and breadcrumbs itch like his arms were overrun with roaches. [B]ATTENTION. PARAHUMAN PSYCHIATRIC WARD CONTAINMENT BREACH. ALL PERSONELLE RETURN TO NEAREST SHELTER AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION[/B] He took a gander at the Spire worker to his left and got to work dissecting the man as if his eyes were scalpels. Bad posture. Hasn't shaven in days. The subject must've mistakenly thought that maybe if he used enough Axe body spray nobody would be able to smell the bourbon on his collar. He was wrong. Based on a cursory glance, the man had spilled more on his own labcoat than Nic could hope to have ingested off of an entire platter of the Jell-O shots at the bonfire. [I]What a shame[/I], he thought as the doors slid open with a ding, and the worker drones haggardly skittered down the hall to who-knows-where. Actually, Nic knew exactly where they were going: the floor's safe room, right next to their lounge. Right after that, the crew casually power walked down the hall to their own destination, where they were faced with a locked door. Taking a quick look at it, he recognized that its manufacturer matched the very same doors he'd helped his father install in the militia compound's armory back in Nebraska. "Lynn, Natalie, do you think you could break it down?" "She should be able to if she gets two inches deep right here," Nic said, producing a Sharpie and waving a faint black circle onto the steel, "and doesn't sever the wire here," he said, laying an X an inch to the right. "That'll keep it locked."