damned_institute | Day 56: Intercom, Late Evening

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Day 56: Intercom, Late Evening

Despite the rough start and the heavier snowfall, the buses managed to stay on route and on schedule. With minutes to spare, they arrived at the gates of Landel's Institute, back to the waiting arms of the military. All pretenses seemed to drop at this point, and the soldiers again took on their patented gruff exteriors. Patients were filed out of the buses in an orderly manner, eventually being escorted to their rooms for dinner in much the same. There, as promised by the personnel, well-behaved patients found their purchases among their returned possessions. A few even found new faces, though whether they brought as much joy as bought goods remained unseen.

The woman manning the intercom seemed to have missed the notice about the day's trip as her announcement remained no different from the usual. "Attention all subjects and personnel," she said. "Lights Out will commence within the hour."

A pause.

"I repeat, Lights Out will commence within the hour. All personnel: please report to your stations. The General will begin his address once preparations are underway. Thank you."

The intercom clicked off.

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The return trip had been as unpleasant as the one into town had been, but they day hadn't been a complete waste, at least. Though he hadn't done much of anything in particular, he at least had a better idea of how things operated. It made him feel less frustrated and confused, though not any less annoyed with the world at large.

At least there hadn't been any ridiculous demands placed upon them. Being left to his own recognizance instead of being ordered around like a child had been a welcome reprieve, even if it hadn't given him a chance to talk with anyone he knew.

The room was empty when he entered it, so he sat down at his desk with his meal, and pulled out both his journal and a pen. Nothing about the place was inspiring him to write, however, so he simply made a few notes to himself before settling in to eat his flavorless meal.

The door swung open and in came two people: a stern-looking man (he looked like a soldier) and a small child. The same thing had been done to their bodies, too. (Maybe the pendant wasn't responsible for this.) No fur, no scales... At least they had hair (she made a mental note to look for a reflective surface later). They didn't have any typical Mobian features.

And then she gave another quiet gasp. No wonder they looked strange; the only person she knew with a face like theirs was... Buttnik! Which meant she was--

Sonia didn't realize she was staring open-mouthed at them until the girl barreled into the room. Sonia's eyes widened in confusion and she held up her hands momentarily as the stranger struggled to regain her balance, only lowering them again when she was sure her help wasn't needed. A quiet "Huh?" escaped the princess as the younger girl introduced herself and extended her hand.

"This world?" she echoed, sounding puzzled. "I don't know. I only woke up a minute ago." Could they be in another dimension? Maybe the pendant was playing an even bigger part in this than she thought. Maeve hadn't told her that it could put her in another world, but she also hadn't said a word about the pendant's side effects until it had been too late.

She didn't like to be rude, but something told her she should paying more attention to the guy at the door. Sonia glanced apologetically at Mokona and walked past her to get closer to the soldier, before turning her suspicious gaze up at him. She couldn't get a good read on this guy until she spoke to him; tough though he might appear, a SWATbot he was not. "Who are you?"

"No questions allowed. Sit down and eat."

What!? Oh, so he didn't plan on playing nice with her. Fine! At least now she knew which side he was on. "Just as soon as you tell me what I'm doing here," she demanded without hesitation. The less time she spent dealing with this joker, the faster she got out of here. She tried not to pay any mind to her new body, not while this guy was around, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing down at herself again.

"Take that tone with me again and you'll be put on report. Now go and eat!"

"I'm not hungry!" Sonia snapped, crossing her arms and scowling right back at him, refusing to back down from the challenge. "And I'll take whatever tone I-- Hey!" He suddenly moved out of the room and slammed the door in her face, prompting her to rush forward and jiggle the handle. Locked. Yup, this was a cell. "Open this door!"

He blinked, surprised by the apology, and shook his head immediately. "It's not your fault, Peter. You have ever reason to be worried about... other people you know disappearing. You wouldn't expect me to apologise if I were equally affected by the same."

A little more understanding of Peter's mood now, Brainiac 5 sat down at his desk, pulling the bowl of gruel towards him and eyeing it dubiously. He'd eaten a little today already, but he knew it hasn't been as much as he really should have and this... substance was going to be the staple for the next few days as well. He would have to get used to it sooner or later.

He dipped his spoon into it, lifting the implement to his lips and sipping at it while trying not to allow his instinctive dislike to make him reject the substance. He didn't have the room for being picking here.

Swallowing the mouthful with only minor difficulty, he glanced side-long at Peter again. "Did you... want to talk about them?"

"When the... whatever they are, are set lose," Rose nodded in understanding, filing this information away thoughtfully. "I don't usually carry weapons, I've never really needed to in the past, but I've been warned rules are different here."

Maya's amendment had her piecing together more information, as well. "So the things we find, the things we need, we only have access to them after dark and during the day, everything goes back to... what, some weird mockery of normalcy? Not that anything about this place seems very normal," she countered herself, sighing. And she'd thought things back in Mystic Falls had been complicated...

Another thought occurred to her and she glanced up, looking puzzled for a moment. "Do people find actual weapons here? Somewhere? Or just things that can be used as weapons, if they stumble across something sturdy?"

Lily gasped as her hand went to her neck, but it was just as the other girl had said: no cool touch of metal, no hard edges. Her fingers remained there for much longer than might have seemed reasonable to someone who hadn't spent their whole lives bound by the collar, but her own skin was something she'd never felt. Soft, like all skin. She swallowed, aware of each small muscle, and her hand found scar tissue at the back of her neck. Nothing unusual there: she knew the rough white line that traced down the skin over her synthetic spine and up past her hairline. But the collar...

If it was gone, why could she still hear the quiet murmuring of the dark voice?

Instead of the collar, she touched two thin chains: one made of very small connected metal beads and dangling a silver tag, while the other was smooth to the touch. Lily tried to look at it, but it wasn't long enough to see and didn't fit over her head. She wanted a mirror. She wanted to know what she looked like without the thick band of steel.

"They took it?" she asked, hand still at the side of her neck. Her small voice was filled with wonder; Lily obviously held no grudge over the theft. "Who?"

She didn't think the collar could be removed--not without killing her. But Lily was dysfunctional, perhaps incompatible, and they might have removed it for that purpose, to free her from the wakeless fits and blood. The thought was absurd, though. All of the children would be killing practice for the next generation, just like the generation before had been killing practice for them.

"Yeah," Lily said softly, answering the second question as she looked around the white room. "What is this place? Where are the others?"

Mokona opened her mouth to warn the young woman about trying to get any information from the soldiers - she'd been trying as hard as she could to get more than a few words out of them since she'd arrived, and nothing she'd done had made them any more talkative. This particular man, grumpy as he was, was probably even less likely to talk than the others, especially when confronted openly - he looked like he knew exactly how to handle someone rushing at him, and even seemed to gain back a little of the composure he'd lost during their unsuccessful question-and-anwer session.

Still, the little creature understood her roommate's desire to understand - it was a perfectly reasonable reaction for anyone who had just been transported to a new place, whether or not they were used to it!

Returning that apologetic glance with a worried one, she stepped back, not getting involved as they snapped at each other, but staying near enough that she could intervene if she had to - she wasn't sure what she could do in her current form, at least before the sun went down...but she definitely didn't want anyone getting hurt!

When the door was slammed closed, Mokona moved forward, extending her hand again as the young lady rattled the door knob - she gently touched the other's wrist, looking up at her with that same concern she'd had the moment she realized the predicament. The bright smile she gave was full of genuine reassurance, and she hoped it would be enough to calm this new person down some, despite the scary situation. "Don't worry! The doors will unlock in a little bit. When night comes!"

"Mokona only got here a few days ago, too! You can ask me any questions!" Though she only knew what she'd been told, or experienced, in that short time, that small amount of information would probably be better than nothing! Maybe it would make the young lady feel better. "But you probably want to eat, too. You won't want to be hungry when its time to go out!"

The more obvious of the two, then. The crease in Lunge's forehead deepened a touch as Dent explained his injuries further. Almost at the end of it... did that mean they hadn't yet passed through those enormous marble doors, with their careful engravings and indentations waiting to be filled by shield and, presumably, by sword? It would make sense if they were still facing the basement's challenges, given how many doors there were- and in spite of himself he found himself toying with relief at the prospect of having been brought halfway by pure chance, without having to suffer the injuries that Dent obviously was struggling with now.

"That seems a sensible idea," he agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "You don't know what you might find at the heart of it all. Be sure to tell me what you find, when you get to the end- I'd like to take a look in person, of course, but it sounds as though you're far closer than I am." That, and it would be helpful to know what they would be walking into when the time came; Lunge trusted his roommate's testimony to be solid and detailed enough for his liking, in that respect. "Do you have what you need to open the marble doors?"

With a mouthful of food, Peter could only nod to Sam when he first stepped in. Even though the spicy food was making his nose run, he wasn't so distracted that he missed the fact that his roommate had a book in hand. It was a pretty thick volume of something, too. Peter would have noticed that during their talk earlier in the day, so he had to assume that Sam had bought it after that conversation.

After swallowing the curry and then wiping at his nose with a napkin, Peter turned in his seat and gave a proper greeting. "Evening. Looks like we survived the zombie attacks again, huh?" He was as relieved as anyone else that there hadn't yet been a repeat of two weeks ago, though he wasn't ever ready to count it out. This place sprung stuff on you when you least expected it, after all.

"What did you buy?" he asked, gesturing with his head toward the book. He noticed that Sam wasn't even sitting down to eat at this point, probably because he was back to the pink gunk. He hoped that his roommate's rank moved up soon, since it seemed like Sam had been here longer than most anyway.

He would have offered his food, but curry wasn't the easiest thing to share and Sam hadn't been up for it last night. Peter hoped that the other man realized that the offer was always available, though.

Another Doyleton trip, another day wasted wandering around that empty little town like he knew what he was doing. As tempting as it had been to try and buy something useful (read: dangerous) with his spending money, Depth Charge had decided with great reluctance that holding back was probably a safer bet for now- who knew if those military knuckleheads would even let him keep a nice, heavy wrench or something? This way he at least had his money saved for next week, when he could come back and get something twice as good.

If there was a next week at all.

But, as bad an influence as talking to Kaworu had been, he didn't have much time for getting overly existential and angsty about the whole deal; as it turned out, the Scarecrow was a far more potent source of concern for him.

At first, as he slumped into his chair and saluted a lazy greeting at his roommate, he hadn't noticed anything wrong aside from the anxious pacing. Then he spotted them- the bandages snaking around the Scarecrow's hand and arm, tightly bound and as fresh as his own were now that they'd returned to the Institute. Talk about a spark attack.

Depth Charge froze for just under a nanoklik, trying to work out how he could have been injured- was something broken? Cuts? Burns? Worse?- but then, where was the point in thinking about it when you could just ask? "What happened to your arm, Scarecrow?" He'd ended up sounding a lot more serious than he'd intended, more concerned than he should have been for an arm injury, but then who was to say there weren't more bandages he couldn't see?

In the end, Harvey ended up on his back, seeing how it was mainly his side that was sore and that way he could also rest his injured hand on his torso. Staring up at the ceiling, he continued to listen to Lunge's words, fully aware and yet physically fatigued after heading into town while bruised and burnt. "Yeah, I'll let you know," he responded. He didn't think it was going to be anything good in the end, but he wasn't cruel enough to keep the information to himself and then force Lunge to have to go through the same torture session.

Though from what Harvey knew of his roommate, chances were he would look into it even if he knew that there was life-threatening danger involved. The man seemed like the sort who paid attention to detail, and in this place that could get you killed. Granted, he was more or less the same way. Despite that, he took some satisfaction out of the fact that he'd made it through the basement faster than Lunge had. It was petty and pointless, which was why he kept the thought to himself.

"Yeah, we've got the sword and shield. I'm pretty sure Jones has them both." After himself, Jones was the one Harvey trusted most to keep those safe, so he was fine with that. He was curious about whether or not the man would be going to the meet-up tonight, but he'd find out soon enough. "And what did you have planned tonight?" Seeing how Lunge seemed to have put the basement aside for the moment, Harvey was curious to know what he had been up to.

Goodness. 'This lowly Ritsu'? And Kibitoshin thought his self-esteem needed a little tuition! Maybe he should have picked up one of those self-help books for Ritsu instead; they seemed to need it a lot more than he did. Even so, he couldn't help but wish that his roommate had substituted their name for "man" or "woman"; thinking 'they' all the time was starting to get a little confusing, as though there were lots of different Ritsu clones running around the Institute.

Anyway, the point was that he'd managed to find himself a receptive ear for his problems, and even if they couldn't help him reach some sort of solution he knew at the very least it would help to get it off of his chest. And who knew? Maybe he'd have the guts to ask about gender afterwards. Kibitoshin shifted on the bed again and tried to find a place to start.

"Well, it's like this... I have these two friends, and sometimes they kind of talk down to me or act like I can't do things for myself..." he started uncertainly, well aware of how unfair that must have sounded. He didn't want to make them sound like bad people; he was sure Franziska and Sechs had their reasons for acting the way they did around him. It just didn't help that he wasn't smart enough to catch on to them. "I told them I didn't like it and it made them angry, and now I'm not sure what to do. I don't think Franzi- I mean, one of my friends even wants to talk to me anymore."

He sighed a little- the same was probably true of Sechs, but he wanted to admit that even less. "So- so I was thinking I could apologise, maybe. But I was so sure I was right..." Looking up, Kibitoshin fixed his uncertainty onto Ritsu. "What do you think?"

"That's good, because it's not going to get better."

Erika had been through the same thing herself, so it's not like she couldn't make a guess as to what Julia was thinking. It probably was some grand plan for escape once the doors unlocked, because any reasonable person would probably think along those lines. Well, there was no harm in asking, she supposed. After shoveling down a few more gulps of the stale pink oatmeal (why pink? Erika had enough sense to realize this wasn't supposed to be oatmeal, so what exactly was it?), she stopped and stared at her roommate again.

"What are you going to do?"

It was an innocent enough question, phrased hopefully in a way that wouldn't offend or make her roommate suspicious. Not that Erika could blame her for thinking such things, but unfortunately, the girl was more interested in how she could exploit that for her own gain then feeling sympathetic.

As the Scarecrow came to a halt and opened his mouth to ask Depth Charge about his condition, he was beaten to the draw. He glanced at his own arm as it was mentioned, as though it might be any different than the last time he'd looked at it, then back to his roommate.

"What happened to me? What happened to you?" the Scarecrow returned stubbornly. Well, he knew what happened, but that wasn't the point: he wanted to know if Depth Charge was as fine as promised. From the looks of it, the answer was probably a 'no.' He wagged his finger in the air (left hand, of course), getting worked up. "Sangamon said there was some sort of fight in the basement last night, and with the way he's walking, I couldn't help but wonder if you were all right. You aren't made of metal anymore, you know. What if you'd died?"

He shuddered involuntarily as the image of the Burning Man's body lying in a smoldering heap came to mind. He knew everything he was saying could easily be applied to himself, but the difference was that he didn't go looking for trouble, especially when the incentives for doing so were a few trinkets that they had no idea what were for. They had to be good for something, but if continuing to explore down there got them killed, then was it worth it? Humans couldn't be put back together so easily. As far as the Scarecrow knew, death was pretty much the end of the line.

Edited 2011-05-26 22:28 (UTC)

One session of feeling mildly violated and a sleep on the bus later, and Scott found himself back in the always welcoming arms of the Institute. Happy birthday to him.

Scott wasn't even touching the gruel on his nightstand. He had a room party to look forward to, and there would be food aplenty there. Not least of which included the food he had busted his ass (among other body parts) to take back with him last night. Maybe it was only cereal, but goddammit, it was like mousse a'lorange in comparison to a bowl candy-coloured vomit.

Besides, he was more focused on the one thing he did want to see in this room, and that was one Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Oh You Know What Goes Here By Now™. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak with his roommate since the night before, and he could only hope that with the ridiculous rate of Landel's healing, the man's injuries would be more bearable by now. Either way, Scott was determined to make this dinner shift less awkward than the last. There was only so much a couch punch to the ribs could get between friends, right?

((Gah. This is so late. I'm sorry. ;;))

The promise of having his items returned to him upon arriving back in his room proved to be true, and Sai carefully checked over his earlier purchases. His roommate was temporarily ignored as he made certain both packages of cigarettes were whole. He wouldn't be using them himself, but they'd be a gold mine to someone else. The lighter was as it should be, none of the liquid inside missing, and the backpack didn't seem to have suffered any wear. All in all, he didn't think he'd gotten off too poorly that day. He'd just have to see if his decisions paid off later.

As a higher ranking member of the patient body, the ninja was given a far better meal for the night than his roommate. Whereas the night before he'd been unable to properly offer it, he took the opportunity now. Without a word, he picked up his tray and set it on the desk in front of Sechs. "Here. We can exchange."

He hadn't yet tried the gruel, but he assumed it had nutrition enough, and he wasn't exactly picky when it came to taste. This was a ninja who preferred tofu to most things, after all.

"That's right," Maya answered. "Makes it easy to pretend you'd just dreamt the night, doesn't it? Recurring dream as a result of mental ill-health, perhaps?" Who would believe asylum patients if the asylum looked perfectly respectable? Most people wanted little enough to do with asylums as it was.

As for actual weapons... Senna had had at least one. "As far as I know, weapons can't simply be found. How weapons come to be, I do not know." Short of encountering someone at night who held a weapon, or asking all her interlocutors if they had one, Maya couldn't know, and Rose's confusion about what constituted a weapon made it apparent that uncovering this little mystery had more steps than it seemed to. However, there was no weapon Maya was skilled in to begin with. It would just be waste. "What are you thinking of? Perhaps we can find you one."

And what had Lightning somehow missed doing entirely? Meeting up with Snow again, of course.

Frustrated, the young woman was like a wild animal in a small cage, going over everything from the day, chastising herself mentally over and over for what she could have done. Even forcing down the thankfully-bland pink dinner down was difficult in her tense state, but she made herself do it anyway as she paced from one end of the room to the other. She needed her energy. She needed to get out of here. Now.

Or at least as soon as she could track down Hope again, and ideally, Snow at the same time. And somehow figure out an escape without them killing each other--

... She needed to figure out how to keep them from killing each other, damn it! Snow wasn't so much a worry if she could somehow convince him to think before he blurted things out in front of the boy, but Hope... if he was really in the place mentally and emotionally that she suspected, it was possible he was still after the older man. After revenge.

She glanced over at the long knife laying on her bed, next to the too-short sword, and wondered for what was far removed from the first time what had happened to the survival knife that she carried with her as a gift from her sister. The same pseudo-weapon that Hope had apparently tried to finish the NORA leader off with.

What to do...?

It wasn't terribly long until Damon was returned to the room as well, the man simply walking in like he was plenty accustomed to the rhythm and rhyme of this place already. It was a relief of sorts, really. He knew little to nothing of his roommate, but he didn't want anything happening to him. It was good to see he was still alive and well.

But as usual, Klavier found it completely impossible to get any kind of read off of him. It wasn't that Damon refused to be forthcoming or steeled his emotions or anything like that. That Klavier could deal with. It was simply that he was... ambiguous to the point of being near impossible to perceive. Unreadable and untouchable. He still had no idea why that was or even if it was deliberate, but it was strange. Klavier was normally good at reading others and shifting to accommodate as needed, but here he couldn't even tell if Damon was in a good mood or not. Even the remark given could have been taken either way, and his tone of voice was just as ambiguous.

Actually, no. There was one thing he could tell. Damon was most certainly not anxious regarding the coming night. He must have been fairing fine enough come nightfall despite everything. Or at the very least, he hadn't come across anything dangerous. How frequent were "monster" attacks in this place, anyway? He heard about them far more than he encountered them, and even then it wasn't very frequent. Was there actually only a handful of creatures terrorizing the building at large at night? Maybe if those few were disposed of... Ah, what was he even thinking? Who was even going to do such a thing? Certainly not him.

Well, in any case, it was a thought to consider.

"Hah. About as good as it could be for under twenty dollars, I suppose. Not that there's much of interest to buy in town the first place. Next time they decide to send us on a little shopping spree, somewhere other than the usual dustball of a town would be nice." Though honestly, he couldn't say he cared much for them shipping the patients off like this no matter where it was they were sent. It was just a reminder all over again of how much control they had and how difficult it will be to find help even once they did to escape these walls.

"Did you manage to find out anything useful in town?"

"Ow-ow-ow..." Matthew muttered, sitting on the ground while blinking up at Meekins, trying to make out the shape of the person he had crashed into. Unfortunately, since his glasses had been knocked off, that was somewhat difficult, and the Canadian ended up blindly fumbling around on the ground, attempting to find the spectacles.

However, before he could find them, the man standing beside him began to stammer an apology. "No, no! That's not your fault at all!" He quickly reassured. 'If anything, it's that stupid soldiers fault...after all, he should have let me finish my sentence and not shoved me in here!' The Canadian almost happily concluded.

However, as Meekins introduced himself, Canada froze. 'Officer...?' "My name is Matthew Williams, b-but...you're one of those guys out there?!" They were imprisoning their own soldiers in this place as well? What had this Meekins done that would make him in trouble for disobedience?

And…why was he having to be roomed up with one of those terrible soldiers? But wait..if he had disobeyed them, then that might mean that he sided with the prisoners! He could provide all kinds of helpful information! But…that was assuming he wasn’t just imprisoned for something ridiculous, like talking out of line or arriving late by ten seconds. Since this military considerate food fights to be a serious form of disobedience, Matthew didn’t doubt that they were incapable of imprisoning their own soldiers for ridiculious stuff as well.

As such, Matthew tensed, carefully waiting for Meekins answer. Even though he couldn’t see the person that well, from the way he spoke, he…really didn’t seem to be that much of a threat. But Canada couldn’t let himself put down his guard yet. Canada tensed nervously, a smile carefully frozen on his face.

Edited 2011-05-27 03:48 (UTC)

Oh, twenty, was it? It'd been obvious from the beginning that his roommate had been here longer than him (really, it was a safe bet that most had been here longer than him), but he hadn't managed to pin down how much longer. There was no corresponding spreadsheet of alloted monetary value to the duration of one's stay, but assuming the institute wouldn't want to make things more complicated than they had to—also probably a safe bet—then the math was easy. Four times the cash, four times the length.

Either someone had a hell of a lucky streak or Klavier was of that rare breed who were smart enough to not attract attention. If the latter, maybe Wally could learn a thing or two from him. Not that it mattered, normally, but when it interfered with his plans? It mattered.

And a part of him still wasn't sure why he'd allowed it to interfere. It was actually happening more than he liked, he'd noticed, and that was not what he'd ever wanted to make a regular occurrence.

Damon frowned slightly, flipped a page, and peered over the top of the book with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, I found plenty of useful things." Like, say, the bourbon, the cars, and the sheriff's office which undoubtedly contained an item or two or twelve that would make up for his current...state of being.

His eyes returned to the book, but it was hard to tell what he was paying more attention to, the novel or the conversation. It could've been neither. It could've been Klavier's heartbeat. Could've. "I think the better question is, did I manage to obtain anything useful, the answer to which would be a resounding no. You?"

Sechs was still grumpily poking at the pink blob on his plate (maybe the new management tried to make food with nano-bots but got this pink goo instead...) when Sai quietly entered the room. Sechs grunted out a wordless greeting when his roommate reached over and switched the plates around.

"Ah-- HEY! Awesome!" Sechs exclaimed, his pout instantly transforming into a grin at the real food that had been placed before him. Immediately he dug into his dinner with much gusto, nearly forgetting the magic word before managing to mumble it out through a mouth full of food. "Phanks!"

With a better meal to fuel the night, Sechs felt a boost to his morale. After a large gulp of dinner was forced down into his stomach, Sechs looked to Sai and the new objects he had gathered into the room. "So how was today for ya? Learned anything helpful?" he asked.

"Um! Ah-" Ritsu moved to respond as soon as his roommate finished speaking, then stopped himself, stuttering an apology and deciding to think a moment before he let any clumsy advice fall from his lips. He was sure Kibitoshin-san was perfectly capable of doing anything he wanted, and very well, regardless of what others thought or told him - and his first reaction was to tell him so. However, he didn't want to insult the other's friends by claiming that they were completely wrong in what they'd done...and yet, Kibitoshin had been sure enough that he was right to confront the people about their behavior. Ritsu certainly didn't want to imply that there was anything flawed in that judgement at all.

The predicament made the young man's head spin.

"Ah...K-kibitoshin-san, I don't think they should be talking down to you! N-not to say that I can tell others what they should and shouldn't do, this unremarkable Ritsu would never even assume he had the right to do something like that, especially regarding far more useful people than myself! I...its just..." His comment began at a normal pace, though it quickly sped to speaking a mile a minute when he realized he might have implied some offense. He paused again, wondering how to best say this without somehow making it seem as though he were important enough to listen to.

He looked back and forth a few times with worry, chewing his lip as he thought - then those amber eyes grew wider, as an idea struck him, and he cracked another shy smile.

"There...is someone back home, where I come from...that I always dreamed I could be like, someday. He is the most confident person I have ever met..." Ritsu's voice sounded wistful, and he looked away for just a moment, a brilliant image of Ayame-nii-san rising from his memory as he spoke - that made his smile grow. "He never...he never has to apologize for himself, because he's so sure of what he does...n-not to say he won't apologize for something if he's trully wrong, its just..."

"When he knows he's right, other people seem to know that too...the confidence he has in himself gives people confidence in him. I think...I think Kibitoshin-san's situation might be the same." The young Sohma finally looked back at his roommate, the far-away haze in his eyes fading. Though he continued, his expression became unsure again - not so much in his words, but in his right to be saying them. "I think that...if you don't think you were wrong, then you shouldn't apologize. If...if you're sure of yourself in this situation, then...it might help them learn to be sure of you, too..."

It was a small comfort to know he and Gren were, more or less, on the same page: Edgar had briefly entertained the idea that the double kidnapping had been retribution for something the two of them had done, but aside from slaying the beast in the basement, he couldn't think of a single thing worthy of such merit. Surely it wasn't for said slaying, as he doubted all who were taken for the sleep studies had been to the basement- not everyone had the information to get there or skills necessary for survival. Even Edgar himself didn't know the way down there, much to his chagrin- the only reason they'd made it was due to the enchantment on the doors that night. It was more likely just an unlucky draw at lots... or at least that's what he hoped.

And it seemed the theory that every sleep study was specially catered to the test subject rang true for Gren's experimentation, as well. Edgar had been fortunate in that, despite how ultimately humiliating the event had been, he'd had a lovely lady to look at when he wasn't writhing in agony; to hear Gren's doctor was pretending to be someone he knew was disturbing. However, it made sense if that was what affected Gren the most. He couldn't imagine how different his own procedure would have been if it had been performed by someone with whom he was familiar- he shuddered at the thought alone.

For now, Edgar nodded in understanding with Gren's words. "They're toying with us," he said quietly. "I'll hopefully find out more about why tonight... or at least learn something new. I'm due to meet two acquaintances- not sure exactly where we'll be going, but they insisted on picking me up." He laughed again, still hoarse. "I'll admit that I'm a little embarrassed. Do I really look like I'll drop dead any second?"

Great! She couldn't blast the door open, and the locking mechanism was probably automated, which meant they were stuck here until someone decided to let them out. Sonia turned around again to look at Mokona with a blank expression. Not letting the worry she felt show on her face was hard, but she had to stay strong for this little one. Mokona's attempt to comfort her only raised more questions, though. "They let us go at night? Why?" she asked incredulously. The only time Robotnik released his prisoners was if they'd already been roboticized. "And come to think of it, who's keeping us here?" Sleet and Dingo? Can't be. She would've seen or at least heard a SWATbot by now. Besides, if this was another dimension, there was no way they could be here unless they entered through a portal, and she wasn't sure if the pendant had opened one up or--...

"All right," she replied to her roommate, managing a small smile for the girl. "I'm Sonia. Pleased to meet you." She finally took Mokona's hand and shook it. "What I really want to know is how I got here. I don't remember being captured." She had to figure out how they did it--if they did it--so she could stop it from happening again. It would also be the first step to finding a way out. "And," her voice faltered, "does everyone look the same as they did before they arrived? I know this might sound strange, but I'm not supposed to look like this!" She shook her head sadly, her frown deepening, and gripped her upper arm with her hand. The worry she'd tried to hide earlier was as plain as the new nose on her face now.

The princess absently took the dinner tray from her desk, but she didn't set her eyes on the contents until she seated herself on the bed. "Eww. They call this a meal?" She scooped some of it out with her spoon and tipped it back into the bowl. Euggh! Lucky for her, her appetite had disappeared along with her old body. It was as she placed the so-called 'food' back on its tray that she noticed the dog tags in her hand. "Oh yeah. I found these over there." She jerked her thumb towards the dresser and held the dog tags up by the chain for Mokona to see. "Do you know who owns them?"

Depth Charge blinked. Just as he'd gotten ready to start some tirade about how the Scarecrow needed to take better care of himself because the Institute was a dangerous place (and don't talk to strangers or cross the road without looking), the Scarecrow had managed to jump in first and start one of his own. And he was doing it better too, as if it couldn't get any stranger, right now to the disapproving finger-wagging. Well. Consider him severely chastised.

"Scarecrow..." He broke off uncertainly. Part of him wanted to laugh at how downright odd this all was, but at the same time this was the closest he'd seen his roommate get to angry- it might have been closer to 'mildly cross' or even 'miffed', but even that was worth noting in someone so naturally relaxed.

It felt... odd. He'd known that the Scarecrow worried about him sometimes, and with good reason given how reckless he could be in the wrong situations, but even so he'd always figured that the man just accepted that he'd be able to wriggle his way out of things if they got touch. Pit, he'd always accepted that; Depth Charge couldn't imagine living any other way. But knowing that it actually bothered him, that was where it started to get weird.

"I know, I know," he said eventually, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, there was a fight. But I knew what I was doing, mostly- and, I promise, it was totally necessary." 'Docile' was not a word he usually associated with himself; apparently he needed to make an exception, because that was exactly how he sounded now. "Sorry if I worried you."

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Day 56: Intercom, Late Evening

M64

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M85

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Lmao yes <3

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