screwloose: (Uncertain)
[This has gone on long enough. Stein has a map showing the location of Kid, but no way to get there right at the moment. He's got to try other avenues before he puts his own people in danger.

And so he's knocking on the door of Birkin's lab, the one Stein gave him for his own exclusive use when they moved in at Stein's place, then opening the door.]


Can I ask you something?
screwloose: (I Drink To Say Sane)
[OOC: This log is backdated to Christmas Eve, and open to those involved, obviously~ So far as I know, that includes Stein, William Birkin, Marie, Sherry Birkin, Henry, and Giriko. If I've missed anyone, please feel free to tag in. I'll run it a bit like an event, with different areas, so people can be in smaller conversations and it doesn't get completely insane.

We no longer need permission from the mods to run personal logs of more than 5 people, but we DO have permission for this, anyway! And I think that's everything I wanted to say.]


Stein's house looked rather different from normal, thanks to Marie's enthusiasm and Stein and Birkin's rather bemused assistance. The eaves had been strung with coloured lights, and the spindly, leaf-less trees had also been hung with lights, tinsel and the odd glass ball as well.

Inside, Stein's largest operating theatre had been transformed into a dinner table, a tablecloth covering the shiny metal surface of his operating table, and chairs set up all around it. A turkey was browning in the oven, and all the fixings were ready to be brought from the kitchen and set on the table, from cranberry sauce to potatoes to stuffing. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were decorated for Christmas with more lights and decorations, and there was a large artificial Christmas tree in the corner of the living room.

All of the more sensitive areas of the lab had been locked up, out of deference to the fact that Giriko was invited.
screwloose: (V is for Cheerful)





Hello, you have reached Stein's private line, but I'm away from the phone or my hands are dirty and I can't pick up at the moment.

If this is an emergency, please hang up and call 42-42-564, ask for Death Scythe, and tell him why you need me. I'm sure my senpai would be happy to handle your emergency for you or locate me if he can't.

If this is not an emergency, please leave your name, number, and major symptoms after the beep and I will return your call as soon as I am able.

Have a great day!




((The phone only has text and voice mail capabilities right now, and a crude camera. He'll probably improve it over time, but he threw this together in half an hour))
screwloose: (Calm)
As promised, Stein headed for Washington. Since he was travelling by plane, he expected to get there after Kid, but that didn't bother him. Kid might try to ambush him, but Stein was confident that he would be able to deal with his student.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to break too much of him before he could get him to listen.

Security was a pain in the ass, but no one could figure out a reason to deny the man just because the metal detectors were going crazy about the bolt in his head. Stein just patiently showed doctor's credentials and explained that the bolt was there for medical reasons. Finally, they let him through.

At the other end, he made a single stop before heading to the monument. At a martial arts supply store, he purchased a wooden bo staff, which he carried on his shoulder as he walked through the desolate remains of the nation's capital towards the location of his meeting with Death the Kid.
screwloose: (Leaning Back)
[He's sitting in his lab, typing on his phone, his expression set in a frown. After hitting 'send' he sets it down and leans back in his chair. The lighting is dim, making it hard to see his expression, but he lets out a soft and heavy sigh]

I guess no one's even noticed.
screwloose: (The Doctor is In)
Stein's wing of the dungeon he used to share with Birkin had become, if anything, darker and more terrifying since Birkin left. The lower floors were thick with shadows that were creepy, stitched monstrosities or tottering, jittering clockwork robots. The walls crawled with cracked mirrors and stitching, and were marked at intervals by terrifying three-eyed faces with wide, snaggle-toothed mouths. Yet arrows pointed the way accurately from the entrance of each level to the next elevator that would take Birkin and Adachi to the next floor - almost as if Stein wanted them to penetrate to the centre of his laboratory.

Cut for disturbing imagery )
screwloose: (Melancholy)
Stein sat on the floor in his favourite laboratory, the cold of the concrete soaking into his body and leaching the warmth from it even through his clothes and lab coat. He hadn't turned on the lights when he entered the room, so it was nearly pitch-black except for a small square of light that lay across the examination table in the middle.

At some point when talking to Birkin, he had knocked over a rolling tray table, and several beakers had shattered, sprinkling glass like caltrops across the floor.

His phone sat on the floor next to him, forgotten. At thirty he had stopped counting, but Birkin still wasn't here.

He sat against the wall, humming to himself and flinching away from dark movements and shapes that only he could see, his eyes darting around restlessly in their sockets.
screwloose: (Eager)
Dr. Stein waited just outside the compound for Mikaela to arrive, his stitched and patched labcoat blowing a bit in the hot Africa wind. He smiled as the young woman rolled up in her very fine motorcycle, his glasses glinting in the sun as he looked her over. No immediate signs of injury.

Though she was only a few years older than his students, and definitely too young for him, he couldn't help but enjoy the ride back to his own world.

They arrived just outside his own laboratory, which was a tall concrete building, which also looked to have been stitched together, much like his own body and clothing. Scraggly trees with no leaves adorned the grounds, which were surrounded by a high wrought iron fence.

The sun stared down upon them, far cooler than the place where they had just left. The sun had a face, and it was laughing good-naturedly at them, its voice deep and echoing.

"You can leave the bike inside the grounds, it'll be safe there," Stein said cheerfully as he got down and opened the front gate. "Welcome to my home, Mikaela."

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October 2011

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