Day 57: Sun Room

[bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com]

It figured that night would end before Rita and Taura could progress any further. Rita wasn't particularly disappointed to wake up abruptly, as they had reached a dead end. Really, the institute was doing them a favor by bringing them back to the starting point, where they could regroup.

What she didn't appreciate was the loss of valuable time, and the fact that her equipment had been confiscated once again. Rita didn't have time to mess around... which was precisely why the cheery voice broadcast over the intercom only served to grate on her nerves more than usual. In fact... how was the Head Doctor even giving that announcement? She doubted he'd managed to take the institute back in such a short amount of time, though the broadcast itself was suspicious for a number of reasons. Even though she could clearly hear the man's voice, it didn't necessarily mean that he was there. She had to look at things critically.

Still, it seemed almost as if everything had returned to normal... with a few exceptions. The different staff was one, and her lack of possessions was another. It didn't seem like the staff was expecting to fool the patients into thinking this was the same old institute, so why...?

Even as she went about preparing for the day and walking to her first destination, Rita kept her most pressing questions in mind, coming up with multiple hypotheses to explain what was happening. Since she didn't expect that the Chapel would hold anything of interest to her, Rita opted for the Sun Room instead. She was interested in seeing the bulletin board, for one.

When she entered the Sun Room, Rita brought a pen and her journal with her. If no one approached her, she would at least have a chance to document her discoveries from the previous night. First, however, she checked the bulletin board, only to find it completely empty. That confirmed a few suspicions of hers. Content to see evidence supporting her ideas about the strange occurrences, Rita sat down on a couch, opened her journal, and began to write.

[Free!]

Comments

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow could not get out of the room fast enough.

First, there was the pain, which struck him as soon as he awoke. He let out an involuntary hiss as he first bent his burned arm, reaching for the long cut on the other. Trying it the other way was no better, as the split in the skin on his left arm, hidden under a layer of bandages, sent a strong sting through him as he moved the limb. He frowned- this was certainly going to be a problem.

It was only then that he noticed another complication: as he sat up, listening to the intercom and wondering why Landel was back and repeating himself, he realized his outfit had been changed. No longer was he wearing the military outfit with the tight shoes and buttoned shirt and confusing hat; instead, it was back to the smiling shirts and grey pants. It wouldn't have been a cause for concern if he hadn't spent the previous day insisting he was fine to most everyone he knew. It'd be hard to convince anyone— especially Depth Charge— of his well-being when both arms were so heavily and obviously bandaged. There was nowhere to hide them with the short sleeves, and—

Depth Charge! Oh, if he woke up and saw the bandages, he'd spend the whole day worrying! The Scarecrow shot out of bed, his feet tangling in the sheets and nearly sending him to the floor. He caught himself just in time to stumble to the door, where he was greeted by his nurse and the soldier who had been keeping an eye on him the past day or so. The soldier, oddly enough, was dressed like one of the nurses, though it was clearly him. Landel on the intercom again, saying things which the Scarecrow recalled from the week before, and the return of the smiling outfits and the soldiers in disguise, same as in Doyleton— what did it all mean? Was the General trying to change things back to the way they were? That didn't seem to make sense, but—

The Scarecrow's thoughts were cut off a second time as his arms ached sharply. He froze, gritting his teeth as both arms reached for each other at once, only to make the sensation far worse.

The nurse couldn't help but give him a pitying look. Reminding him that she'd be changing the bandages on his burnt arm throughout the day, she handed him two cups: one with water, the other will tiny capsules— "For the pain." With no choice but to trust her (she had been rather good to him the entire time), he took both cups, swallowing the contents of both.

And moments later, he was following the soldier-turned-nurse into the Sun Room. He'd opted to go there instead of the Chapel— it reminded him too much of Abe, which led to thinking of his other missing friends. After a quick glance at the bulletin board (he wasn't sure how he was going to write well with his injured arms, if bending them was giving him all sorts of trouble), he found a seat near the wall where he could watch the rest of the room. He sighed as he slid down the wall and hit the ground with a thmp. How awful to start the day so melancholy!

[Free]

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

Mele had intended to look at the picture once morning came, but she'd forgotten that of course this cursed place wasn't that kind. By some miracle (or possibly force of will, though she wouldn't count on it), she managed to wake up before whoever came to get her, and she'd hopped to the closet, expecting to see her clothes—but of course they weren't there; everything was taken and put in those boxes during the day. That didn't make her search for her other things any less frantic.

The flashlight was where it usually was, but nothing else. No photograph to be found anywhere. She'd even opened Soma's closet door in the hopes it'd ended up on Soma's side of the room. But it hadn't.

Only just aware enough to realize she was back in the gray things but not paying enough attention to note its possible significance, Mele was brought to the Sun Room when she didn't answer the nurse.

Well this sucked. Oh hi, Scarecrow. "I hate this," she said as she dropped down next to him. "...Something happen to you?" Did he have this many bandages last time?

[scarefaux]

[♥]

As the pain streaming from both his arms began to dull, the Scarecrow wondered if his mind was slowing down as well: he didn't even notice Mele until she was already there, plopping on the floor beside him. He supposed the pills might have worked a bit like the clever little thing, but he certainly hoped they wouldn't turn off all the various parts of his body. He still needed that brain, as broken as it was, for some thinking.

"Oh, I, um..." He trailed off as he reflexively tried to cover one arm with the other, only to remember the short sleeves just weren't good for it. Besides, she'd already seen the bandages, and Mele was good at seeing through these sorts of things. The aching stirred back through him briefly. "A brainwashed patient on the Recreational Field got me last night with his sword. The nurse gave me something to take for them, so I think I'll be okay. They don't feel all that badly at the moment."

Though he wanted to put on a smile for her (Mele looked like her day wasn't going at all well, either), he couldn't help but feel concerned. "What is it you hate, Mele? Not my company, I hope."

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

"Of course not, you dummy," Mele replied, turning her legs into mountains she could rest her elbows on as she watched the people in the room. Not that was much to watch; everything paled in significance next to that photo that they had to confiscate, the jerks. "I hate everything." Yeah, that explanation was adequate.

"Don't move your arms around too much." This was assuming the nurses hadn't already told him that, but the nurses never said anything useful or important, so there.

"Was the sword fast?" Because if not, Scarecrow should have been running. That was Mele's method and it served her fine, except she didn't remember that in her case, she went invisible first. "The field is that big place, isn't it? Not like the courtyard."

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow smiled at her answer, pleased that he wasn't a part of the 'everything' that Mele so hated. While he didn't like to make her worry by being in such a sorry state— and with the way both of his arms were bandaged, he couldn't really blame her if she was— her company never failed to cheer him up. He only hoped he could do the same for her somehow.

"The field is an awfully big place, but the sword— and the man wielding it, I suppose— was very fast. Before I knew it, he was lunging at me. I thought he missed, but it turns out I just couldn't feel it." In spite of her directions about not moving his arms, he reached up and tapped the side of his head for a better explanation. "The clever little thing they put in my head does that sometimes. It can be both a blessing and a bother."

He returned his arms to his lap, looking at them sadly. "I didn't get a thing done last night, except for make my arms worse. It's not so easy to go from here to there and through dangerous places at night when you're not made of straw."

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

Clever little thing? Oh... That. "I doubt they did it to help you," she muttered. Uh, hope none of the institute's lackeys nearby heard that. They'd probably mess around with that clever whatsits and make it un-blessing-like.

"Why were you in the field?" It was just a field, wasn't it? Was there something Scarecrow wanted to get from there? Eh, it wasn't her business. She'd tell him to be careful, but at this point, it felt like she was repeating herself. And it hadn't been the Horrible Hallway, so there was that; this place just really really sucked, no matter where anyone went. Hmph!

One of these days, she'd show 'em. One of these days. But for now, wait until night. Ugh, today was going to be terrible. At least Scarecrow was still okay.... Relatively speaking. ...And she was reduced to counting people. Quick, change the topic— "You could go through dangerous places easily before? How did that work?"

[scarefaux]

"Well, I was made of straw before," the Scarecrow noted. "I suppose that's just how all scarecrows are. Oh, it's not so bad being like that, since you can trip and fall, have the stuffin' knocked out of you, lose your head or any other part of you, and it's not the end of the world. You just get put back together again and go on your way. The only thing to be afraid of was a lighted match."

He moved his feet; they felt heavier than usual somehow. "It's different when you're more than a little human. I don't think they can be put back together so easily. Last night, I thought I'd just go over the wall and see what was out there, and maybe even try walking to town. Now that I actually think about it, I'm not sure I would have made it that far with this body. I don't suppose the snow is all that good for injuries."

That uncomfortable feeling the Scarecrow got whenever he started thinking about his relatively new-found humanity crawled into his chest. He'd been in Hunk Howard's body how long, and still wasn't fully adjusted to it? A better question was would he ever adjust to it- and did he want to?