fallenbeanpole: (last light)
fallenbeanpole ([personal profile] fallenbeanpole) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2012-07-23 08:48 am

Day 65: Sun Room

His nurse had whisked him away from breakfast as soon as the intercom’s voice faded.  Surprisingly, she didn’t take him to the shower rooms, instead bringing him to the Sun Room (as she called it), explaining that since this was his first day he would be allowed to skip the showers.  Besides, it would be good to let his injuries heal a little more.


He’d passed through this room on the way to breakfast, but hadn’t really paid much attention to it the first time.  Now that he was standing here, the Once-ler understood why it was called the Sun Room.


Despite the fact that it was cloudy outside, there was still far more natural light coming in through the ceiling windows than he had seen in a long time.  The Once-ler stood still for a few moments, simply staring up.  It seemed almost like a dream, really.  The valley never got brighter than twilight, even at noon.  There was too much smog in the air to let any more light through.


After a few minutes, he shook his head.  Anybody who saw him just standing in the middle of the room would probably have questions about it, and he did not relish the thought of explaining himself to a stranger.  He glanced around the room itself, spotting the bulletin board Soma had talked about during breakfast.  The Once-ler decided that was a good place to start, and hobbled on over to get a closer look.


[For Nina, I believe?]

skeletonenigma: (darkfirewind)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2012-07-24 06:56 pm (UTC)(link)
It wasn't often that Skulduggery was actually grateful for keeping a basic friendship open with someone he didn't feel any inclination toward. Politics wasn't his game. As the Santuary's Prime Detective, one of the perks he enjoyed was getting to insult people who deserved it, punch people who were evil, and otherwise ignore anyone he didn't find interesting.

But he'd made an effort to leave a good impression on his nurse - his captor - just in case, and this morning, it was the only thing that saved him from having to suffer through a public shower. The last time a shower would have done Skulduggery any benefit, showers hadn't been invented yet. He hadn't had to remove an article of clothing so far, and to be perfectly honest with himself, he hoped he would never have to. It had been weird enough discovering he had skin and a face; he was perfectly happy to take the rest on faith.

So Skulduggery asked to be in the Sun Room instead, and after a short argument, the nurse relented. But only the Sun Room, she clarified firmly, as if she expected Skulduggery to sneak out to a staircase the first chance he got. Of course, he would have, if the nurses and orderlies standing around didn't always seem to have their eye on everything. How was anyone supposed to sneak into restricted areas with this much needless security?

So Skulduggery settled for some people-watching instead. Most of them trickled in slowly after taking their showers, a myriad of moods on their faces and in their body language. A few seemed injured - a wheelchair here, a crutch there, slings and bandages not uncommon. Several looked pale and sickly, rashes on their hands similar to the one Sora had. Skulduggery was still wary of that fact; like he'd told Sora, it was very likely this illness plaguing the Institute wouldn't lead to anything good.

[For L!]
ryuuzaki: (hi there)

[personal profile] ryuuzaki 2012-07-26 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Convincing the nurse to let him skip the shower hadn't been easy.

First, he'd tried to feign napping on one of the sofas in the Sun Room after breakfast. It might have worked, but as the intercom announcement faded, one nurse became especially aggressive about waking him up. When he gave in, and she moved to escort him in the direction of the showers, he pointed out to her that the wound in his shoulder was quite deep. It would be unbearably painful to have to support the weight of his arm without the sling, he'd told her, let alone to risk soap getting into the wound, or to have to re-bandage it. If he were to lose consciousness in the shower due to the pain, he might hit his head, which would result in an even more serious injury.

This tactic relied on what he thought was a strong likelihood that the nurse he was speaking to was not the person who had bandaged the wound, which wasn't quite as bad as he was suggesting. The truth was that the sling and the sweatshirt, used together, hid most of the rash, and L was reluctant to take them off to go shower in a room full of men, some of whom might be looking for that kind of evidence. The nurse didn't seem to be thinking on those lines, however: she relented. He gave her his smallest, bravest smile, as a show--and only a show--of gratitude.

The bulletin board was more interesting. He noted with a sense of relief that people were already discussing the clue from the previous night. He would still have to confirm it independently, as much as possible, but the fact that no one had yet publicly disagreed with the description that had been posted meant that it was likely to be accurate. While he had exaggerated his condition to the nurse, it still didn't sound like he would have been capable of fighting Lingormr and coming out in good shape, even with Edgar and Nina there. It was useful that other people had made it through and were indeed willing to discuss it.

What the clue seemed to indicate, though... that was unsettling.

Frowning, he turned back to the rest of the Sun Room. A thin man now sat near the sofa where L had been resting a few minutes earlier--the sofa that L now returned to, pushing off his slippers as he sat down.

The man didn't look familiar. He had the half-vacant, half-alert air of someone who wasn't looking at anything in particular, but who might narrow their focus when they found something interesting to observe. It was a common expression in the big, skylit room.

"Are you new here, Mr...?" L's tone was gentle, curious, and reasonably amiable, but nobody could have accused it of being lively.
Edited 2012-07-26 16:17 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (writtenname)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2012-07-26 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
It took Skulduggery a few moments to realize that someone had spoken at all, let alone that they were speaking directly to him. He glanced over at the man, noting with interest the sling and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked partly like he hadn't slept for a very long time, and partly like he would never feel the need to sleep again. An interesting combination, but one that Skulduggery could understand in a place like this. It was a wonder more people didn't look completely exhausted during the day.

"Not strictly speaking," he replied. Although his voice was cheerful enough, his face remained as impassively blank as ever, making for a somewhat jarring disconnect he wasn't aware of. "I've been here for two nights, but I gather that's a vacation compared to some." And if every night was like what he'd experienced in this room, Skulduggery couldn't blame anyone for acting the way some did - or for considering impromptu surgery on the word of some disembodied voice.

"Pleasant," he answered the implied question with an extended hand. "Skulduggery Pleasant. And you are?"