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damned_institute2007-05-19 04:03 am
damned-intercom.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2007-05-19 04:03 am
Day 24: Intercom, Morning
The intercom clicked on in all its forced normalcy, the Head Doctor clearing his throat before he gave his usual string of orders.
"Ah, yes, first and foremost, I believe it's now time that our Group 2 batch of patients is taken from their rooms and introduced to our main population. Nurses, if you would be kind enough to oblige...? Thank you, and welcome to all the new faces!
"In other news, today is the day that we begin implementing our three-day therapy period for patients who need the most intensive treatment. We've in fact hired a new line of doctors to meet your needs, some of whom are specialized in psychology and others... well, others who have been assigned to patients with physical ailments relating to their mental instability. Those of you who have been assigned to attend therapy this shift will be escorted by nurses to your assigned doctor when your turn comes."
He coughed, then went through his normal routine of shuffling papers and fumbling when in truth, he most likely had a mind sharper than any number of tacks.
"Ah, here we go. As for the rest of you, it seems as if it's time for all patients to get some sun in the great outdoors! All patients in the cafeteria, please exit the doors to the east and west and head into the courtyard, please. Nurses, please keep a close eye on the patients so that they don't venture too close to the edge of the pond? Thank you!"
He paused, taking a deep breath before exhaling and ending his chipper update.
"I believe that's all! I trust you all have a pleasant and productive morning. Good day!"
[ Doctors: Same drill as last time, with each of you making your own post in this format: Day 24: Doctor's Office [Number], Dr. [Doctor Name]. Patients should respond to their respective doctor's post, each with their own thread. ]
"Ah, yes, first and foremost, I believe it's now time that our Group 2 batch of patients is taken from their rooms and introduced to our main population. Nurses, if you would be kind enough to oblige...? Thank you, and welcome to all the new faces!
"In other news, today is the day that we begin implementing our three-day therapy period for patients who need the most intensive treatment. We've in fact hired a new line of doctors to meet your needs, some of whom are specialized in psychology and others... well, others who have been assigned to patients with physical ailments relating to their mental instability. Those of you who have been assigned to attend therapy this shift will be escorted by nurses to your assigned doctor when your turn comes."
He coughed, then went through his normal routine of shuffling papers and fumbling when in truth, he most likely had a mind sharper than any number of tacks.
"Ah, here we go. As for the rest of you, it seems as if it's time for all patients to get some sun in the great outdoors! All patients in the cafeteria, please exit the doors to the east and west and head into the courtyard, please. Nurses, please keep a close eye on the patients so that they don't venture too close to the edge of the pond? Thank you!"
He paused, taking a deep breath before exhaling and ending his chipper update.
"I believe that's all! I trust you all have a pleasant and productive morning. Good day!"
[ Doctors: Same drill as last time, with each of you making your own post in this format: Day 24: Doctor's Office [Number], Dr. [Doctor Name]. Patients should respond to their respective doctor's post, each with their own thread. ]
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Not in my cell. Where? Hospital? Farfarello recalled some of the gist of the intercom announcement, and scowled darkly. Mental hospital. If he was back in an institution, without a trial, without even a deportation hearing, without any memory of how he got here, there was only one reason for it.
They sold me out. Schwarz sold me out. Rage filled his head with red light and white noise and Farfarello went into predator-mode, slipping out of bed and moving to the foot of it to examine the desk for potential weapons. Later, he would wonder at the strangeness of it all, at an institution giving someone like him a room with furniture, without padded walls, with a roommate breathing quietly in the other bed. Right now, he only cared about venting his rage on the first nurse, orderly or doctor to come within his reach.
Farfarello lifted the plastic desk chair, evaluating it as a weapon. Pathetic. Barely useful even for sitting in, much less as a weapon, but it would have to do. Watching the door carefully now, the bulk of his attention on it, Farfarello tried tugging at a drawer sharply with his left hand, hoping to break the stops and pull it entirely free of the desk.
Even if the drawer didn't come free, he still had the chair, and it would be hurled at the head of the first person to come in the door. After that, it would be down to fists and feet for him, but he figured he could do some damage before they managed to catch him and throw him in restraints, like they should have done from the very start.
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"Mr. Whelan?" The nurse called cheerfully, poking her head in the door. A pair of orderlies stood behind her. "Are you up?"
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His gaze flickered briefly to the orderlies behind the nurse. Two. Small room. No weapons. Bad odds. But he was still too worked up for any kind of subterfuge, like pretending to put the chair down.
So Farfarello just snarled at the nurse, and gripped the chair hard enough that the plastic creaked.
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"Mr. Whelan, just set down the chair," the nurse said, soothingly. "No one's going to hurt you. You're in a hospital." She kept her voice even, pleasant and friendly. It was always best to try and soothe confused and upset patients.
"Don't you remember coming here?" They rarely did. This place did seem to specialize in very severe disorders!
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Or so he thought, anyway. He had, at any rate, been in and out of real institutions most of his life.
And then he suggested something anatomically unlikely for the nurse to do with the orderlies behind her.
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But something wasn’t right. There was no smell of eggs or ham or soup in the air. And these blankets smelled nothing like her Mamo-chan.
Now she was awake. Something was very wrong, this wasn’t Mamo-chan’s apartment. Her eyes darted around the strange room. She spotted another bed across from the one she had been in, but it was empty.
“What... where’s my brooch?!” she realized, fear creeping into her voice. She darted to the only dresser in the room, wildly pulling open the drawers only to find more ugly, gray clothes. Finding nothing Usagi sunk down to the floor, feeling faint. She was in a strange place alone and completely powerless. Could this be a nightmare? It felt too real, but the Dead Moon’s nightmares had always felt frighteningly realistic. Only that made no sense since they had been defeated.
“You look a little green, dear. How about some fresh air?”
Usagi’s head whipped around to see a woman in a nurse’s outfit standing behind her. She didn’t look like a monster, but they never did at first. “Where am I?” she demanded even as her voice cracked.
“You’re in a safe place now, a hospital,” the nurse replied sweetly. “And you’re friends and family are waiting for you to get better,” she added as if knowing that would be the next thing Usagi asked and extended a hand to help her up.
None of this made any sense. How did she get here and why would everyone be waiting for her to get better, she was fine! More questions buzzed through her mind, but Usagi realized she would not be getting any useful answers out of this strange nurse. There was something wrong about the look in her eyes. What would Luna say she should do? Her eyes began to well up with tears, but she held them back. Maybe she wasn’t the only one here, maybe these people had captured some of the others. And if they hadn’t, they all would be looking for her.“A-all right,” she stammered, taking the nurse’s cold hand and standing up. She shivered.
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So he was rather surprised to find that he had deactivated and been placed on a meatbag sleeping pallet. He sat upright, legs tangling in the bedding as he tried to adjust to this new situation. Had he been captured? His memories of his Master were still accessible, so he had not gone through his proper shutdown procedures upon separation from his Master. Either this was a Sith facility and he had been undergoing repairs, or he was malfunctioning. The very thought made him feel unclean. He attempted to initiate diagnostic programs, and found that he could not. He didn't even get the program directory on his HUD. These were his most basic accessible programs! Even if many basic functions were lost, his diagnostics should never, ever fail!
He must be malfunctioning. His Master would be so displeased! He made a small noise of despair. It sounded wrong. Where was the normal hiss that accompanied his vocal function? He turned his attention from his internal problems to the room. It was white, square, and the furnishings looked like some meatbag had decided to play at being a pre-spacetravel, backwards 'redneck'. A meatbag lay unconscious on a sleeping pallet against the opposite wall. He could not find the identity of the human male in his memory.
Then he realized with another jolt- his optics were malfunctioning as well! It had taken him several seconds (such a long time!) to realize, but he had no HUD. No integrated data display. No specialized targeting spectra. Just... his visible spectrum must be only from 100 micrometers to 300 nanometers! At least he could still image thermal signatures and a small amount of the 'ultraviolet' rays that were potentially mutagenic to living tissues, but... That was still (Oh maker, I can hardly even bring myself to follow that logic path!) almost like a meatbag. Oh, the humiliation!
With so many of his basic diagnostics nonfunctional, he would just have to attempt a physical access to his core. He was hardly surprised now that his command to open the input panel on his left arm failed. He would just have force it.
Then he looked down at his arm, and made a very undroid-like shriek. It couldn't be! It just simply wasn't possible! He tore at the cloth covering over his torso, ripping the garment as he pulled it off his body. There should have been metal there. Cold, perfectly engineered, rust-red durasteel. Instead there was meatbag flesh. He brought his--not his!--hands up to his face, finding more of the same. He was in a meatbag body.
It was... suddenly difficult to even string together a few commands. He felt unbalanced, as if his gyroscopes were badly calibrated. Regardless of his previous obliviousness to his state, his body had still been trying to carry out the basic actions of homeostasis. So far it had been unsuccessful in alerting HK to the fact that he needed to breathe. But now, it was giving him a not so gentle reminder. If only he would surrender control of half-conscious actions to the body, it would take care of them.
HK was having none of that, however. He tried to stand, only to become tangled in the bed sheets and fall to the floor, landing on his back and knocking the back of his head on the floor. It felt bad. Like his structural components were yelling at him. But it also addled his thoughts enough so that he momentarily forgot that droids don't need to breathe.
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He regained clarity. His Master's orders. He had to find his Master. Master would have the answers. After all, Master was the only meatbag capable of engineering a droid such as himself, and the only one who could solve near-impossible tasks so efficiently, and with so much wonderful violence. Yes, Master would know how to make him better.
A little unsteadily, he got to his feet. His Master would undoubtedly know what to do once he returned, but until then, he could not simply declare the situation lost. It would be an insult to his programming and his Master if he did not try his utmost to adapt to the situation. Then he looked down at himself again, and found it incredibly hard to convince himself to keep from simply sprinting headfirst into the wall, splattering this meatbag body's central processor against it and ending the whole problem in an instant.
The door opened, making him jump slightly. A small, civilian-looking female meatbag entered, showing her teeth in an attempt to appear friendly. It really wasn't helping. She shook her head, looking at the torn shirt lying on the floor. He managed to almost vocalize the descriptor "Threat" when she began to speak.
"Now Mr. Cullen, why did you have to do that? You could have woken up your roommate! Let's get you into another shirt." She moved to one of the wooden furniture pieces and pulled a drawer open, taking an identical grey shirt from within. He saw the yellow symbol vaguely reminiscent of a meatbag's mocking grin.
"Query: What does that awful insignia denote?" Oh yes. He almost forgot as a result of the awful trauma he was suffering from. "And where am I?" The intruder looked at him strangely, and proceeded to ignore his first query. "You're at Landel's, Mr. Cullen." She held out the shirt. "Would you like to put this on yourself, or do you think you'll need some help?" HK snatched the shirt away from her angrily. "Statement: Of course I am capable of navigating my way through an article of clothing." He managed to nearly put his head down a sleeve before finding the right opening. "Aside: Anything to hide this disgusting meatbag body," he muttered to himself.
The female made a slight noise of annoyance. "You shouldn't say things like that about yourself, Mr. Cullen. And I do hope you'll refrain from speaking in that odd manner while around the other patients." She gestured towards the doorway. "Unfortunately, you won't be seeing a doctor today for consultations, but you will be able to go to have some fresh air outdoors. Try and make some new friends!" She exited, and the confused
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Byakko woke with a start, eyes shooting wide open and staring at the ceiling in horror. His tail was curled around himself protectively, his fingers clutching the bed sheets tightly. He whimpered slightly, reaching up to scrub at his sore eyes. Tsuzuki... Tsuzuki had....
Tsuzuki wanted to leave them so badly. He'd felt it, the way his friend and master had given up on everything. It had felt like a knife to the heart for Byakko. His friend was so hurt and he had done nothing. He hadn't been able to do anything to help, hadn't noticed in time that Tsuzuki's thoughts were turning darker and darker.
What was the use of a shikigami if he couldn't protect his sworn master, even from himself? And Tsuzuki was so much more than a master. He deserved better.
His thoughts were in such disarray from the shock and hurt of Tsuzuki's suicide attempt that it took him several moments for his brain to catch up with his senses. His tail twitched in agitation as alien smells reached his nose; harsh acerbic scents which were wholly unfamiliar to Byakko. His palace smelled of fresh breezes and clean air, not these sharp painful smells.
He blinked blankly at the ceiling for a few moments, trying to get his thoughts into some kind of order, before he realised that the ceiling too was unfamiliar and not like any room he'd ever seen in his palace. He sat up slowly, pausing to unwind the white sheets from where they'd become tangled tightly around his legs, and then stared wide eyed around the room.
The medical wing of the Shokan Division? Why would he be there.... unless...
"Tsuzuki!"
He stood up quickly, nearly falling over in his haste, feeling oddly unbalanced for some reason, and sprang towards the door, only to have it open in his face. A strange woman smiled at him; a polite blank smile which tried to be friendly but failed. "Ah, it's good to see you awake Mr White."
Byakko ignored the odd name that she called him. There were more important things to attend to! If he was here... did that mean that Tsuzuki was alive? And how had he come to be here anyway? He didn't remember being summoned. "Where's Tsuzuki?" he asked desperately. "Is he alright?"
The woman sighed and patted his shoulder. "It's alright, Mr White. Everything is fine, you're just a little confused."
He shook his head vehemently, tail twitching dangerously except... "I need to see him. Is he alright?" It was then that he realised with the force of a punch to the stomach that he couldn't sense Tsuzuki. Nothing where the connection should be. Did that mean...? "Is he dead?" He twisted slightly, looking back over his shoulder and eyes widening in shock as yet another wrongess was revealed. He could only stare for a moment, pink eyes full of shock as he realised the reason for his lack of balance. "Wh-what...? Where is it?"
The woman sighed again, shook her head and took him by the hand. "No-one is dead, Mr White. Now really, you shouldn't be saying such things. I'm sure some time in the Sun Room will cheer you up."
Byakko frowned, the wrongness of this scenario finally clicking. If this was the Shokan Division then surely Watari would be the one attending the hospital. And he'd be able to sense Tsuzuki, sense all of the shinigami and his tail would be there, curling up his back. This place felt blank in his senses. "What is this place?"
"This is Landel's Mental Hospital, Mr White," the woman said, looking at him with that sad, kind, fake expression. "You don't remember?"
Hospital. The word sent a thrill of cold fear through him for Tsuzuki's sake. Tsuzuki hated hospitals and a hospital recently meant that man. Muraki.
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SubZero sat up, prepared to face whatever demons awaited him in the netherealm, only to find himself in a mostly empty room. There was someone (something?) sleeping in the other bed.
Wait, why was he in a bed? Why were there beds in the netherealm? Where were the demons, and where was Quan Chi? The netherealm was certainly a lot... brighter, and cleaner than he'd been expecting it to be.
At least he wouldn't have to worry about getting his uniform dirty. Except it suddenly occurred to him that he wasn't in his uniform. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but there was the distinct lack of covering on his head and face, and he wasn't breathing through the occasionally stifling Lin Kuei mask.
He jumped out of the bed, landing silently in a fighting stance, still waiting for an ambush to arrive. As such he nearly attacked the woman standing in the doorway when it opened, but she didn't look at all demonic, and the way she reacted to being lunged at, she certainly had no idea how to fight.
"Mr. Lyu! You shouldn't go around scaring people like that!" She had a scolding tone, and SubZero almost retorted before realizing she'd called him by the wrong name.
It was against the Lin Kuei code to be seen with his face uncovered. But if she didn't realize he was Lin Kuei, it couldn't get back to his superiors. He'd just have to find his uniform and then deal with killing people.
"Where the hell did Rayden send me?" It was as much rhetorical, as it was directed at the woman.
"I don't know who this 'Rayden' is, but you're in the Landels institute," still with the condescending tone, and before SubZero could speak again she cut him off. "Unfortunately you slept through breakfast, but you can get some fresh air outside with the rest of the patients today! So, come with me."
This woman was clearly not taking no for an answer. Not that anyone SubZero was accustomed to dealing with did, anyway. "Fine, but if this is some sort of trick..." He decided to let her imagination fill in the blank on his threat.
Unfortunately, she didn't seem to care.
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The teen sat up and stretched a little, trying to rid himself of the drowsy feeling of having overslept. After a moment, it registered that he wasn't actually stretched out over the grass, but in a bed. A real bed.
Where was this..? He dragged himself out of the bed to have realization number two: someone had taken the time to change his clothes, which was a little more than mildly disturbing. (What was with that smiley face, anyway?) His Digivice and necklace were also conveniently missing. Oh, the bastard that did this was going to get it.
"Agumon?" He did a glance-over of the room. There was another bed, but his follower was nowhere to be seen (knowing that guy, he probably just off getting food, so Masaru wasn't very concerned). After a little hunting, he found that his belongings were also missing in action.
"What a pain in the ass," he muttered. The missing Digivice admittedly wasn't that big of a deal - not yet, anyway - but he'd be damned if he went without that necklace. He hadn't went without it in ten years, and he didn't plan on starting now.
It was around then a woman dressed in a nurse's uniform walked in. "Good morning, Mr. Rotch. I'm afraid you slept through breakfast, so I'll be accompanying you to the Courtyard."
...Haa?
"What's another human doing here?" he blurted out. "What did you do with all my stuff? And where's my follower?!" This woman had to know something, at least.
At first the nurse had a distasteful expression at his demanding tone, but it quickly changed to one of pity. "...Calm down, Mike. Your possessions will be returned when you leave."
"Well, in that case, where the hell am I? And my name is Daimon Masaru," he corrected indignantly. He couldn't put his finger on what, but something about this woman was really pissing him off.
She looked surprised. "You mean they haven't told you yet? You're in Landel's Institute. You're... very sick, Mr. Rotch."
Sick? "But I feel fine," he muttered. "And I told you, my name is-"
"Mike Rotch, room M56," the nurse said, reading aloud from a sheet on clipboard. "Patient exhibits strong delusions, and is prone to violence. Refers to himself as 'Daimon Masaru.' "
That name again. Masaru already had a strong distaste for it - who in their right mind would name their kid something like that? And wait a minute, 'delusions?' So she thought he was crazy?
"Who the hell's going to believe a story like that?!" He ground out after a moment. Masaru was a lot of things, but crazy was definitely NOT one of them.
"Come on. I don't want to have to sedate you on your first day here," said the nurse patiently, ignoring his outburst.
"No choice then," he muttered to himself. "Fine, I'll follow you," he tagged on grudgingly.
Obviously, they made some sort of mistake, but this nurse didn't seem like she planned on talking about it anytime soon, and he wouldn't be much of a man if he just punched her lights out. He'd have to find someone else to deal with.
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Fayt's words echoed over upon themselves, an entreaty hopefully shouted against impending deletion. Starting at her fingertips and toes, Nel Zelpher's limbs had gradually started to glow yellow, separating into segments. Nel's character program was turning into bits of data, slowly fading away, and becoming nonexistent...
Nel hadn't really had time in the past to think of what being deleted might feel like, but she certainly didn't expect utter painlessness. It didn't even seem numb – it was nothing like what the rudimentary anesthesia in Aquaria provided, that dead weight that would creep up a limb. No, there was no weight here, just.. nothingness. Nothingness that crept up, up, and up... up until it reached her neck, her chin, her nose. One last prayer to Apris.
Deliver me...
And all was black. Was this nonexistence? If it was, then how come she could think? How could she be aware? If she was indeed able to think, then it would logically follow that some part of her existed, regardless of deletion. Yet it remained black like sleep, black like she was groggy and just didn't want to open her eyes. Well, if she forced herself to, then maybe she would. Discipline.
And Nel Zelpher struggled to open her eyes, only to find it quite a bit easier than she'd expected. And suddenly aware that not only did her body still exist, but it was warm and snug underneath a comforter.
This was deliverance indeed. But to where had she been delivered? She'd never seen walls like these in Aquaria or Airyglyph, and certainly not in her more recent travels. This was utterly foreign, Nel realized as she hoisted herself out of bed. There was a sleeping woman in the bed across the room. There was a set of grey garments with a strange symbol (too simple to be a rune) that had replaced her Aquarian special-issue uniform. And there were footsteps outside the doorway. Not a man, but a woman, judging by the sound of the tread. Not a military walk. No battle stance necessary.
Nel stood akimbo, facing the door as it opened.
A short, slightly plump woman let herself inside, absolutely beaming. “Oh, you're awake, Jeanne, darling! I'm so glad! I thought I was going to have to wake you.”
Nel raised her eyebrows, first at the name the woman had given her and then at the unusual cheerfulness the young woman displayed. “What...” It wasn't really a question. She certainly had questions, but there was no good place to start. And Jeanne? No. That wasn't right.
The nurse seemed to pick up on Nel's unease to some extent, though she missed the mark completely. “..Oh, I'm sorry! Ms. Dupont. You're one of those modern women, aren't you... Come along, now. We're off to the courtyard today!”
“I suppose that's all right,” Nel said, playing along. This woman obviously meant no harm, so the Crimson Blade figured asking questions wasn't such a bad idea. “So where are we?”
“Hum? Oh, oh yes, you're here in Landel's Institute, hon. You're here to get better,” the nurse said cheerfully.
...Get better? For the most part she seemed quite well, if a little confused. Her body looked as real as it ever had, and her mind was as sharp as it was before. Her runes were intact. “...What happened?”
“Oh, you've just had a .. a little problem. But don't worry about that, we'll fix you up good as new!” the nurse cooed, and contented herself to chatter about the weather.
And Nel let the nurse lead her off to the Courtyard. She could get answers from another.
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Artemis squeezed Holly’s hand tightly. They were as close as they could ever be. Their minds were one.
Artemis turned and stared at his friend with the blue eyes. Holly was staring back, and she was smiling.
“I remember,” she said aloud. “You saved me.”
Artemis smiled back. “It never happened,” he said.
And then their minds and bodies were split right down to the subatomic level and whisked across galaxies and millennia.
---
“Sean? Sean?” The woman paused, as though wondering whether continuing was a good idea. “Young man,” The voice continued, a bit stern. “You’ve already missed breakfast—I think you’ve slept quite enough.”
Artemis groaned and turned over, “Really mother, I believe that interdimensional travel via time slip is reason enough to sleep past breakfast.” The boy paused, furrowing his brow slightly. He thought for a moment that his left eye stung, but the pain had vanished in an instant. For now, Artemis was more concerned with the fact that his mother was calling him Sean. And once he’d sat up and looked, wide-eyed, at his surroundings, he was even more concerned with where he was.
And the woman, wasn’t his mother at all—she was a nurse. Artemis heaved an internal sigh of relief. He must have been injured upon re-entry, so he was in a hospital. Simple explanation. Except…
“Madam, I am currently in a hospital; that much I have discerned. But you have made a slight error. My name is not Sean, it is, in fact, Artemis Fowl II.” The boy threw off his white bedcovers and stood as he spoke. It was then that Artemis realized what he was wearing—gray sweatpants and a gray shirt sporting a happy face? Most unusual for a hospital. He looked up at the nurse, who was regarding him with… was that a look of pity?
“In any case, I would like you to return my suit—it’s one of my favorites—and let Domovoi Butler know that I am awake and would like to be taken home.”
“…Sean, please sit back down.” Artemis was confused. He had already told this woman his name, so why did she insist on calling him by that name? The boy crossed his arms.
“I’d rather stand, thank you.”
“Yes, your chart does say that you’ve developed a rather… abrasive personality.” Artemis chuckled to himself. ‘Abrasive’ was a new one. “But Sean, I’m happy to tell you that you are in someplace far better than a hospital.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Your guardians had you sent here right away after the tragedy—you’re at Landel’s Institute for Mental Health. I’m going to make sure that you get better, doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
Artemis stared at the nurse as though she’d just told him he’d been enrolled in remedial math classes. “A mental institution?”
“Yes.”
“My guardians?”
“Yes.” The nurse said, sounding hopeful that Artemis was understanding.
“…I’d like to use a phone, please. But if you don’t think I’m capable, please, by all means, call Fowl Manor yourself. I’m sure that my parents will be very displeased with you and your institution if you don’t.”
“Sean, your parents are dead.”
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“The mafia?”
“No, no, you stupid woman, the Russian mafiya! How did they die?!” Artemis shouted.
“It was a car accident…” The nurse said, looking down at Artemis with that same look of pity. “Your parents died, but the fire department arrived in time to save you. Your guardians noticed that you were not the same, and soon after realized that you were refusing to answer to your actual name or even admit that your parents were dead. And they sent you here.”
“A car accident? No, father and mother never drove a car—they would have had Butler or Juliet drive for them.”
“You guardians also noted that you have begun to create a fantasy world for you to live in—one where you are a criminal, and work with elves and fairies to save the world.”
That is my life! Not a story! Artemis’ mind began to process the information. Obviously this woman is mistaken. There has been some kind of error. Did I re-enter into this ill-fated couple’s car, and so they took me to be their son? Then where is Holly? And Qwan? And No. 1? And for that matter, where is the entire population of Hybras? I can’t believe that no one has noticed a hundred or more demons materialize in the English Channel for not reason at all. Either the spell has thrown me into some kind of misunderstanding or…
…this is a trap. It’s Opal Koboi, or Ark Soot, or maybe even Jon Spiro has escaped and put me here. Spiro has enough money to get the most honest person to tell obvious lies, and Soot has enough mesmer under his command to convince an entire country I’m the Easter Bunny. But which is it…?
“Sean…?” The nurse looked at the boy, concerned. “Are you all right? I understand that this is a lot to take in, so if you’d rather—”
“I’m sorry, Nurse…?” Artemis paused for a name.
“Oh! I’m Nurse Hedgerow.”
“Well, Nurse Hedgerow, I’m sorry to have been so insistent with you. My apologies. I’ll cooperate from now on, I promise!” He ground out, nearly choking on the last, extremely juvenile oath. But Nurse Hedgerow seemed to buy it. She smiled and patted Artemis on the head.
“Good! Well then, I’ll take you to the courtyard, and you can meet some of your new friends!”
“Oh good!” Artemis said, as sweetly as possible for him. This was going to be a long day.
(Italics taken from Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony by Eoin Colfer)
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And she had committed two.
Realization set in, and the girl snapped open her eyes. Rina-san... Teppei-san... Their bodies... She had intended to check on the condition of their corpses before dawn. From the light in her eyes and the state of her biological clock, however, dawn had long since passed. It was probably closer to lunchtime, which meant Rena had missed the first half of school. A fact she had to remedy before wondering minds inquired; her friends knew it wasn't like her to miss school.
Her next course of action was to struggle out of the bedsheets and ready herself for the day ahead. Only, as Rena caught a clearer glimpse of her surroundings, she found something--everything very out of place. The color was too glaringly absent, the furnishings too bare (except for one bed too many). Her stuffed animals? Nowhere to be found. The lace and frills were gone as well as the ribbons. As she sat in bed wide-eyed and shocked, Rena could recognized nothing. Well, almost nothing.
She knew that smell, that merger of medicines, syringes, and strong starch. It was not an aspect of her room, of course, but rather her life a year before. Rena, therefore, concluded she was in a hospital. Of what sorts and reasons, the girl was in such a shock to give no speculation. She merely sat and stared.
It was a woman who finally drew her out, with a smile so wide and eyes so bright enough to make Rena hate her at first sight. "Good morning, Mary," she chirped, offering no explanation as to how she had slipped into the room unnoticed. "You've already missed breakfast, but you had such a busy night yesterday, I didn't have the heart to wake you."
"...Good...morning?" Rena merely repeated as her blood froze at the words. Who was this woman calling "Mary," and how did she know what happened the night before?
The nurse stretched her lips further (how such was possible, Rena had no clue). "Would you like to go to the courtyard and meet some new friends?" she asked. "Your mother would be happy if you did."
"My...mother...?"
Before Rena could claim she hadn't seen that woman since last year, the nurse literally dragged the girl out of bed and gently prodded her toward the door. "Sun and friends will make you better~ Wouldn't you agree, Mary?"
Rena could find no words to echo.
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Hold it. He didn’t remember going to sleep in this room. And where was his watch?
A frown slowly spread over his features as he looked around the room, then down at himself. The sterile environment might have fitted the overall secure theme of their base of operations, but he knew for a fact that the rooms were luxurious enough to fit right in to any five-star hotel. This room was entirely too small, and the furniture was featureless and uninviting. There was no window either, which came as something of a shock. Was this a prison? No, it couldn’t be. It was too clean and orderly, and besides which, the bars that were practically the defining feature of prisons were conspicuously missing.
All the same, Light was certain that it had to be some kind of containment facility. The sterility of the room all but screamed “hospital,” but since those were usually contained basic equipment for monitoring heart rate and so on, as well as a TV, this couldn’t be a normal one. Even if it was one for long-term care of terminal patients, it wouldn’t look this way. Those tended to have a kind of forced cheerfulness to them that was present here only on the smiley face adorning the drab grey uniform he was wearing—and why was he wearing that?
Light closed his eyes, thinking. A psychiatric hospital? L has to be behind this. Does he still suspect me? This must be an elaborate setup to trick me into revealing that I am Kira. There are probably cameras hidden everywhere— His jaw tightened imperceptibly, and, very slowly, he opened his eyes again. Where’s Rem? She has to stay with the owner of the Death Note. Is that why he’s doing this? If he finds out I’m the current owner, he might ask me to use that position to get information out of her.
He considered this for a moment, then mentally shook his head. No, he wouldn’t use this method; it’s too extreme. There has to be more to it than just figuring out who owns the Note. L suspects that I am Kira, and this is his way of getting me to admit it. This isn’t the setting I would expect for that, but maybe that’s why he chose it in the first place. How long has he been planning this? I don’t remember seeing anything like this in the building, but it’s possible he kept it hidden. It might even be a different location entirely. That seems more likely, but it also means that Rem will have to follow me here.
He smiled grimly. However, Rem will be forced to act soon regardless of whether or not I’m being imprisoned here. Misa must have started punishing criminals by now, and Rem is smart enough to realize the implications of that. If Misa has been captured too, which seems the most likely scenario, Rem will have to act even sooner. With L out of the way, it should be easy to convince the rest of the team to let us out… unless he’s left instructions to keep us in here even afterwards. That would make things trickier, but sacrificing Misa might be enough to convince them to at least let me out.
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Instead of an answer, however, a soft knock came at the door before it was opened. A woman he didn’t recognize that was dressed as a nurse entered the room, holding a clipboard. Tutting under her breath, she looked at him with pity in her eyes before slapping on a cheery grin and saying, “Good morning, Mr. Lawley, and welcome to Landel’s Institute! You’re awake just in time for the second shift—shall we? I’m sure the other patients here will love to meet you!”
“Other patients?” How many people did L hire for this? His eyes narrowed, but he managed to smile in return anyway. Reflexively, his gaze flicked down to read her name tag, but it quickly occurred to him how useless that would be. Anyone that was working here had to have a fake name, or else was a criminal like Lind L. Tailor and had top secret records. L would take different precautions with Misa, of course, but since Light doubted he’d be allowed to get into contact with her, he chose to focus on his own situation for now.
He wondered about the name the nurse had called him, too, but it didn’t take much of a stretch for him to think that L had given him another fake one to go by. Perhaps to distance him even further from the investigation, the name “Asahi” had been replaced by “Lawley.” That could mean his father was still around and going by Asahi Soichiro rather than Yagami, but while he would look into that possibility, he wouldn’t get his hopes up. His father couldn’t be happy that Light was being held against his will, so it was likely L had taken measures to ensure that he couldn’t interfere.
Keeping his smile firmly in place, Light said, “Thank you, but I was wondering if you had seen a friend of mine? He has black hair, looks like he doesn’t get enough sleep, and he usually wears a long-sleeved white shirt, blue jeans, and no socks or shoes.”
The nurse gave him a blank look, appeared to think about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lawley, but that doesn’t ring a bell. Why don’t we go and lookf or him?” Another bright and utterly fake smile. L should have hired better actors for this.
All right, Ryuzaki, he thought, glancing back towards the “camera” he’d been addressing earlier. I’ll play along for now, but I will get out of here. Rem is free even if I’m not, so it won’t be long before you pay the price for interfering with the god of the new world.
Refocusing on the nurse, he replied, “Then please lead the way.” If L isn’t there, I can always check the rest of this place or try to find a camera to speak to him through. Too bad I don’t have Ryuk here to find them for me again. They really are well-hidden.
The possibility that there were no cameras never entered his mind at all.
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There was no sun to wake him now, and after a yawn (he still had the presence of mind to cover his mouth), he slowly opened his eyes.
I've been captured. The thought struck him like a ton of rocks, or conversely, like one of Peony's particularly large rappigs deciding it wanted to tackle him.
Guy was out of the unfamiliar bed in a second, searching the room. He took a step or two before realizing that his clothing wasn't normal, either. It was baggy and coarse against his skin, when he usually preferred tighter garments. (Though he had somehow managed fighting in a swimsuit a few times...)
It seemed like someone had been kidnapped along with him, if the other bed was indication. Was it someone he knew? And where was the person now?
But he had to back up... Why would he have been kidnapped in the first place? Auldrant was finally obtaining its goal of peace, Malkuth and Kimlasca were no longer on the brink of war, and Van had been stopped. He had settled into a more or less stress-free life in Grand Chokmah, and there had only been one thing left that hadn't been resolved...
Luke.
His parents had given up on him, everyone had. Except for himself, Tear, Natalia, Jade, and Anise, that is. It had pleased Guy to see how the others had come to believe in Luke, even though they had been skeptical of him for so long. He would come back. Guy wasn't about to cry over his "grave." That would be betraying his master, when he had vowed to always have faith.
Besides, Luke had promised. Guy was still waiting to serve him again.
But that was the least of his concerns right now. While he had no idea why (which bothered him, because usually he had some inkling), he had been taken (drugged? controlled?) and deposited in this place, with its strange clothing and badly-fitted room. Whoever had been kidnapped with him seemed to have gotten the hell out already (without waking him up?), so he wasn't about to linger either. Just as he was headed to the door, someone let herself in.
Herself.
Without meaning to, Guy tensed. He managed to have enough self control not to backpedal. The woman looked nice enough, after all. He smiled, drawing his hand up to the back of his neck and laughing nervously. "Hi."
"Good morning, Dana! I'm sorry to say that you've missed breakfast, but if you come with me, you can catch some sun out in the courtyard."
"Err..." It seemed like this woman thought he knew a lot more than he did. "I'm sorry, but where are we?" He would get to the name thing later. Maybe he hadn't been kidnapped? This nurse (she was a nurse, right?) wasn't treating him like a prisoner. But then he was in the hospital, without having any reason to be.
"Landel's Institute, Dana. Your sister brought you here."
What? Guy paled, angling his head down slightly. Was this woman trying to pull his leg or something? If that was the case, it wasn't very funny. The word 'institute' made him return to the prison idea, but...
"That's not possible," he said, trying to keep his tone even.
"So you may think, but that's why you're here, Dana. So please, if you would come with me..."
Then she reached out toward him, and that was the last straw. Guy jumped back, pulling up both of his hands defensively. "Um... Sorry, but could we keep this hands off? I'll come with you, just..."
The nurse flushed. "Oh yes, I'm sorry, I completely forgot about your condition! Just follow me, then, Dana." She smiled and turned to leave.
How did she know about that? This was getting stranger and stranger. She wasn't answering any of his questions, though, which meant he was going to have to find the answers himself.
He followed... at a distance.
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"Sierra?" A kind voice asked from the corner of the room. For the first time, Cheetara looked up and began to take in her surroundings.
"H-hello." She responded cautiously, unsure of whether the woman was referring to her or not. She looks like a warrior maiden. She thought critically. Paler though. Less intense. "A-are talking to me?"
"Yes, Sierra." The nurse responded patiently. "I'm going to take you to the courtyard, where you're supposed to be."
"Courtyard?" Cheetara responded, confused. "Where's that? I need to go back to my friends! They may need me! The mutants were attacking and--"
"Hush, now." The nurse interrupted. "You're not thinking straight. Just calm down." She approached Cheetara with a certain amount of hesitation and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "It'll all make sense in a few hours."
"I... I'm sorry." Cheetara mumured, shocked. "I... I don't understand what's going on. Where am I? Why do you keep calling me that... that name?"
"You're at the Landel's Institute. Your name is Sierra Pride. You think it's something different, but you'll learn to like this new name. I promise."
"But my name isn't Sierra!" Cheetara protested, although she did get up when the nurse coaxed her to her feet. "It's Cheetara! You can't keep me here, you know. I'm a Thundercat! My friends... they need me on Third Earth!"
"I'm sure you think so." The nurse responded soothingly. "But they can wait a few hours. For now, you need to come with me."
"But I--"
"Sierra, none of this will make sense unless you follow me now, all right?"
"All... all right." Cheetara acquieced. "As long as I'm home soon." Although the nurse's soft chuckle unnerved her, Cheetara followed her, not knowing what else she could do.