towerofanimus | Sardines in a Can

Entry tags:

Sardines in a Can

Characters: Sasori and YOU
Setting: The Morgue and 4-06
Format: I'll match you
Summary: No, it isn't your imagination. The morgue probably is missing a few bodies, or the bodies are missing a few parts. And room 4-06 may have just gained a few roommates... Or at least, parts of them.
Warnings: Dismembered bodies and medical jargon >.>

The Morgue
Ever since taking up 'work' at the Morgue, Sasori seemed to be spending more time and all of overtime there. Not that there are any economical perks to look forward to, but, there were other perks; other more disturbing 'perks' about working at the morgue...

As it was, the puppet Master, being rather on the short side, had felt it necessary to climb up onto one of the higher selves to get at a body that was seemingly stuck. He had taken taken every precaution to not let the door close in on him, but had somehow ended up locking himself inside with a cold, cold body right next to him.

"...How inconvenient." All he had with him was his scalpel.

Working his way in the dark, he tries using the scalpel as a makeshift screwdriver to try and get himself out, the scratch scratch of metal against metal distinct in the silence of the cold mortuary...

Room 4-06
There's a funky smell in room 4-06, and if you looked closely, a few extra fingers and toes. Sasori is sat on the floor by his bed, poring over a dismembered arm, carefully prying it open with forceps and a scalpel. There are a few bottles of weird smelling preservatives close by, and while the puppet master carefully dissects the limb, he makes notes: detailed diagrams of the human body with modifications everywhere...Wait, was that a spare leg in the corner by Sasori's bed, casually propped up against the wall...?

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[Guess who has been keeping an eye on you? Literally.

Gaara considers leaving him in there, but then, Sasori could probably eventually figure out a way to escape. So he teleports inside the room and opens the drawer, staring down impassively at the trapped ninja.]

[ You need to find more productive hobbies, Gaara :c

Sasori is on his stomach when the drawer opens, lying right on top of the dead body that had been previously occupying the space. His scalpel is still stuck in one of the nuts, and he promptly brings it away to prop himself up on the shins of the body, looking up at Gaara from his position. ]

...Hello. [ His tone is droll; Sasori isn't exactly happy to see you, but you can never tell. Glancing to the sides quickly and then back to Gaara, he adds: ] So what'll it be? Did you kill somebody?

[Shut up, Sasobutt. Or get left in there to rot.]

......

[He doesn’t even seem fazed by the sight. He mumbles something back that resembles a greeting, before stepping off to the side to let him get out.]

Someone, or something? [Because he’s killed a lot of monsters so far, but humans? Not yet.]

For some odd reason, Sou found himself in the morgue and suddenly he felt that cold shiver as a reminder of his death. His once composed military appearance gave way to an insane expression of desperation and chaos. The smell, the bodies and the cold steel didn't help his psyche at all.

His hands reached for his head to drown out the voice that tore through his mind.

Well, well, it looks like you found your new home.

"Shut up." He breathed through clinched teeth.

Now, why would I do a thing like that? You ~need~ me.

"I said SHUT UP!" He shouted that eventually echoed through the clean, yet empty feeling floor.

Sou was anything but composed at this point. Not only was he alone here, or so he thought, he felt isolated again.

Ishtar was taking care of things in the clinic, and that also meant exploring whatever else as part of it. That also meant the morgue. She somehow found herself wandering down towards the morgue. She had a small flashlight and Sidia as always.

She really needed to stop doing these kinds of things, like wandering alone in the dark to a place where they kept dead people. It was eerie, and reminded her of Jened's cellar, except it didn't have monsters. Ishtar jumped at hearing the scratching sounds.

"What...was that?" she mused frowning, and furrowing her brows. She slowly followed the noise quietly and prepared to strike if anything jumped out at her. She didn't need anymore monsters or crazy guys coming at her. At least, she could hope. Ishtar sighed, "Why do I do this to myself?"

[ >8[ ]

[ To be honest, Sasori seems a tad surprised that the 'greeting' was returned, albeit very half-heartedly. There is a slight quirk of that eyebrow that gives this mild surprise away. ]

Someone. [ He gingerly climbs down from the locker and wipes the front of his clothes clean. ] The lockers aren't designed to fit in monsters, and even if they were, I will not hold myself responsible for cleaning them out.

[ Not that he was going to outright deny that dissecting monsters would be fun~ No.

He leans against one of the steel lockers and lets his eyes level with Gaara's. ]

So what brings the Godaime Kazekage to the mortuary, mm?

Sasori, meanwhile, was oblivious to Sou's inner turmoil and the conversation in his head. Instead, the shinobi only sighs from within the confines of the morgue locker, face just barely above the body's feet.

"Either you're crazy or you must have acutely sensitive hearing to hear the dead speak." His voice comes out slightly muffled from behind the steel, and the scratch of his scalpel as it worked on loosening some of the nuts and bolts echoes softly throughout the room once more.

He pauses for a moment and stares at the wall of steel in front of him, nothing but a darker shape in the darkness surrounding him. "But since you're hear, would you mind opening the locker for me? 3094 please."

Sasori had heard footsteps, and though he had paused for a few moments to listen, had gone back to trying and escaping from the steel confines that encased him. He paused once more when she had wondered out loud the first time, and then when he could tell she was in the vicinity by the sound of those footsteps, Sasori carefully placed the scalpel on the steel bed, right in between the feet on John Doe. It settled with a light clink.

"I doubt it was any one of the obvious party here, unless you were referring to the gentleman on your right..." Sasori judged by sound, and he knew that there was an open locker to the right of where her footsteps seemed to have stopped, a locker in which a fresh body had been placed. It was still so fresh that he had witnessed it go through stages of rigor mortis. See that arm bending slightly upwards?

"But more importantly, what are you doing here?"

He will get around to asking for help in just a minute, ahem...

Sou's head snapped up and looked around. So he wasn't here by himself after all. "How inconvenient." He moved toward the locker and pulled it open.

"Look, I can appreciate a good kink, but don't you think you're taking it a bit far trying to be one of them?" Sou smirked to hide and redirect his embarrassment.

"Very inconvenient."

Sasori, at first, is in a rather compromising position lying flush atop that naked frigid body, but once the locker was opened further, he gingerly jumped down, landing lightly on his feet like a cat, scalpel in hand.

The comment makes his mouth twitch at the corners, almost curling up into a half-smile. "I was working." He takes that moment to give the other a once-over before tipping his head only just slightly to the right, glancing briefly in the same direction. "But if you were here for 'company'...~" There was an open locker with a very fresh body if Sou cared to look at what Sasori was so subtly trying to point out~

[Since he’s not fully puppet yet, he can actually starve to death… Hmm…]

No. [A ghost of a smirk briefly plays about his lips before he utters his next sentence.] I have yet to kill any humans.

Your predicament. [Came his blunt answer. He may have a fascination with killing, but once the bodies are void of life, he doesn’t feel any inkling of endearment toward them.

He watches Sasori with mild intrigue, and then poses the obvious question.] Why are you here?

Sou's smirk only grew bigger and waved off the comment with a less than enthusiastic response. "No thanks. I prefer my victims screaming and with a pulse."

All jokes aside, the part about work did catch his attention and the scalpel in Sasori's hand did keep his interest. He took the subtle hint and looked behind him for a moment.

"Interesting artwork. Post mortem avant garde? I'm certain that Picasso would love his replacement."

[ Should have thought of that before you let him out, Gaara? ]

That is almost a little hard to believe. [ He remembers the previous host, the one the Third studied to develop his trademark iron sand technique. That, and he remembers the other time he had watched Gaara destroy those monsters.

There is a brief chuckle then. ] My predicament? I am flattered that the Kazekage would show such an interest in me. [ No, not really. He finds it a little amusing, though. There had been a time where he had been fascinated by the Third. Sasori did wonder what he might have done in the future--

And as to the question, Sasori merely shrugs. ]

I work here. And also-- [ He pauses to hold up his scalpel. ] Research.

Sasori lets himself smile then. "I like them quiet." A pause, and then there's a subtle smirk as he moves towards the fresh body. "And willing," he adds, prodding an open gash in the belly of the dead man.

The part about Picasso and replacements wipes the smirk right off Sasori's face, though, only to replace it with grit teeth behind a clenched jaw and a slight dip in his brow. "I'm afraid I am unaware of any Picasso, but I doubt even he could create a masterpiece as I do." A swift, clean incision is drawn down the chest of the fresh body he was now focusing his attention on. "This--" His nose crinkles slightly at the obvious smell emanating from the insides of John Doe once the cut is opened. "Is merely research."

There is a squelch as organs partially digested by stomach acid gurgle their way closer to the surface.

"Why are you here?"

The squishing of organs didn't seem to bother him but the smell certainly did. He took his handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose and mouth.

"I just happened by. I hate sterility and I hate labs. If you called it art, I might be more interested."

The words that Sasori said about research brought back some bitter memories of not only his childhood but his recent memories as well being used, abused and thrown away. His jaw clinched behind the cloth which really didn't help his already breaking mental state.

Oh yes, provoke the man with the knife. Go on.

Sou rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it.

"This is not art," the puppet master stated, watching the body before him degrade by the moment. "This is merely a vessel full of shit and piss, an impermanent thing that men fight to preserve, when all it does in the end is decay." He glances at Sou for just a moment. "This is you and me."

When Sasori looks back at the lifeless form in front of him, his eyes lid halfway, the tiniest of smiles gracing his features. "True art is eternal. Eternally beautiful." For once, there is a fire in those eyes, but perhaps it goes unnoticed here...

[But killing him in that cheap way would be no fun~]

…I have yet to kill any humans in this tower. [He clarifies, his expression darkening for a short instance in time. He had killed many humans in their original world, and even a few back at the facility, but he hasn’t been at the tower for very long yet.

He tilts his head a little, fixing the other redhead with a somewhat amused look.] Would you have preferred that I let you rot with the deceased?

…I see. [How appropriate, he muses silently.] Research? On dead bodies?

[...Hoh.

Someone was more than intrigued about this place. He hadn't arrived that long ago, and already he was making his way around the tower, exploring this and that.

He arrived at the morgue, and just how amusing everything was....! He glanced around, his footsteps echoing in the cold, dead room.

...And then he heard that scratching.]

Hehh....? Is someone trying to come back from the dead...?

[ Don't be so sure of yourself, Gaara <3 ]

I figured. [ The body laid out on one of the steel beds is fresh and still warm. It's the one he moves towards, eyes marking a line of incision with their gaze before he brought the blade of the scalpel down to cut through the top layer of skin. ]

I would have let myself out. I never asked for your assistance, though it is appreciated. [ Whether he is sincere or not, one can only guess. ]

Research on the human body. [ A slow smirk. ] I have no use for the live specimens.

[Well now, he isn’t the Kazekage for nothing~]

Why do you find that hard to believe?

[His line of sight falls in that direction. Rather than a typical person’s response of repulsion, he is actually fascinated, watching blood seep out of the cut at a slow and steady rate. He has always had an unnatural obsession with blood, and apart from the flicker of intrigue in his eyes, there is no other outward indication.]

…Hmm. I will keep that in mind for the future, then.

Interesting. [He comments coolly, his attention staying focused on observing Sasori’s treatment of the body.]

[ Meanwhile, Sasori, still sharing freezer space with a cold body, sighed. The scratching paused for the moment the other spoke, but he resumed trying to get out of there soon after, metal scraping away at metal once again where the scalpel blade missed. ]

Only that someone was never dead to begin with. [ His voice is slightly muffled behind the steel door, but loud enough and clear enough to make out exactly what he's saying. ]

[...What a let down, a body coming back would have been far more interesting.

The man walked over to that steel door, and he placed his hand against it.]

Mmm.... I have a feeling you're not behind there by choice.

[ He's sorry for the disappointment :c

Sasori stilled at the sound of approaching footsteps, though, and his brow dipped slightly when they stopped all too close. ]

If I were, I wouldn't be trying to get out. [ A normal person would have banged and yelled for assistance, but he almost sounded like a mouse in the gutter. ]

[it's ok he's hard to impress.

So then... just what is he trying to get out with? Whatever it is it's really not helping.

Oh well, might as well satisfy his curiosity here and open the door. Battler gripped the handle and he opened the door to that chilled room.]

You should have just asked for some assistance....

Since he put it that way, he felt even more disgusted even at himself. It was an ugly existence and certainly one that he really didn't want to hear. He took a step back from the scene and closed his eyes tightly to keep himself from vomiting. Instead of allowing that to happen, he chose to laugh to hide his discomfort.

"What if it was photographed, hm? I think the real question remains what is interpreted as art and what is considered trash." At least pictures didn't transfer the smell of rot.

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Sardines in a Can

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The Morgue

Morgue

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WHOOPS here* not hear ./////.

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It's all good. I've done that before.

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lol fff I hate when that happens and you can't go back and edit XD

If I happen to see it again, I'll poke.

lolk :3

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the morgue

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