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damned_institute2011-06-22 02:13 am
bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2011-06-22 02:13 am
Day 57: Sun Room
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!]
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!]
no subject
She listened to S.T. explain more. "A general...?" That would explain who "Aguilar" was, then, and also what that uniform had been. Still didn't explain the why of anything, though.
"I heard that name on the radio last night. How long ago did he get in here?" she asked, determined to learn as much as possible as quick as she could. "Did he say why he was forcing Landel out?"
She paused, then added one more question for good measure: "And have you seen a girl named Himemiya Anthy around? Darker skin, purple hair?"
no subject
"He showed up three days ago. Landel was freaking out on the intercom. We're talking the IRS and the mob both showed up with a report of payment discrepancies on the same day freakout." Maybe that was an exaggeration. Fucking drama queen. "Aguilar holds some kind of inspection, a food fight breaks out. Next thing we know Landel's getting dragged out by Aguilar's bullyboys."
"It was pretty fucking rad, for a while. Then it was back to business as usual, only with sexier pseudo-fascist uniforms. Cute little berets and everything." He shrugged. "Landel was on the radio earlier, hanging out with the latest Rebel Leader. Seems he's pissed off enough to try to sabotage Aguilar. Or that's how they're spinning it this week.
no subject
She shut up for a little while then and listened to S.T. explain more about Aguilar. For some reason, it wasn't hard to imagine Landel freaking out; he had never been the most stable person. Maybe it would have been funny in some other circumstances. For now, there were more important things to think about.
"Yeah, that's what I heard last night," she confirmed with a nod, pulling up a chair. "And 'spinning' is one way to put it, for sure. I just can't see Marc agreeing to put up with that guy. I mean, Landel almost killed him a while back! You should've seen him!" she went on, leaning an elbow on the table and making small hand gestures for emphasis. "Would you take someone like that to your secret hideout just because he said he's turned over a new leaf?"
no subject
This whole place was only saved by a bunch of Japanese exchange students from being as white as a Midwestern small town. Shit. He hadn't even noticed. Which made him an asshole, again. Oops. He had noticed that there were more guys, but that didn't let him off the hook, even in the developing chamber of his own mind. Hung up to dry in Kodachrome, and just as toxic.
Good thing Utena changed the subject. "People do weird shit when they're holding guns." Dolmacher's point-blanking mafia thugs was up there. So were a lot of investigations they'd done out in cornfield country. That was where media blitzes came in. If they were thought to be harmless effete liberal crankpots, that still didn't call off the old guys with dogs and guns. They had to convince first, and then they'd already won.
no subject
At least they moved on quickly enough from that. "So you think Marc's not scared of him because he could shoot Landel in the back whenever he wants?" She pressed the tip of her index finger lightly against her thumb in thought. She figured that was what S.T. meant, but it was hard to be sure when there was another possibility that fit his words: "Or it could be the other way around, too. It could be Landel who's forcing Marc to do things."
/unstacks convo
"True. Seems like Landel's style, all right. Hold a gun to a guy's head and tell him to pretend to be in charge. He gets off on drama even more than power." S.T. leaned his chair back on its back legs and stretched. His knee itched from the inside out, which meant it was healing. "Making us grateful to him -- food, vague promises of escape, whatever."
"Or Marc has the gun but missed the memo on death and Landel. Sure sounded like his zombie ex-best-friend ate him." He had been down in town, and so had Utena, but the bulletin had been full of stories the next morning. "Not sure he could hurt him if he tried." If he did, well, Aguilar wasn't going to sit on his ass and wait for him to resurrect. "I'm not sure which is better, the soldiers or the Star Trek computer automatic girl."
no subject
Since they couldn't really do more than speculate right now, Utena decided it was best they move on to other things. "Has anything else happened with you since we last talked, by the way?" she asked. "I mean, besides the military. You're okay, right? No big injuries or anything?"
no subject
"If you go down to the basement, be ready for a fight. Landel gave us some bullshit about another reward, which probably means another giant killer mutant for him to bet against in an unfair fight."
Dolmacher would be in heaven. It wasn't the first time S.T. had thought that. This whole place made him think a lot more about Dolmacher than he'd done even when the man was standing in front of him and whining. The whole wargame schtick made real. 101 ways to be a hero while dicking around in the mud.
S.T.'s hobbies were more constructive. Most of them, at least.
no subject
Maybe Utena should have questioned the whole robot dinosaur thing, but after living in Ohtori and spending two weeks here? Absolutely nothing fazed her anymore. At least, nothing as far as fantastical locations, monsters, or magic were concerned. Disappearing friends and military takeovers on the other hand... Well, here was hoping she wouldn't have to get used to those too.
no subject
"Two sides, two shrinky-dink prizes. Fuck if I know what they do."
He pulled out a piece of paper, and drew a circle in the middle. "Ballroom is here." He added a couple of feeder roads to the rotary. "Both of them have two doors. Brain and brawn." He added a small room with what appeared to be a stick figure of roadkill. Then a jumble of lines. "Sphinx, with riddles and everything, and a maze. The first will definitely get you a shiny little trinket. If you find out about the maze, let me know."
Then he turned to the other side. "South all I know is the guys looked like shit after they came out. North is a hall of armor. If you've got any attachment to a weapon, it'll be there. Sentimental or missing metal tail-harpoon." He shrugged. "Beyond that you're getting blasted by something familiar to one of you." D.C. had been first through, tail in hand. "Probably whoever goes in first. Kill it, you're golden." Silver, really, but why let fact get in the way of a good metaphor.
"Not sure if there was three of them because that's the minimum for the doors, or because there were three of us." And that was all he knew that wasn't wild conjecture.
no subject
"Wow, thanks for all that," she said, folding up the paper and stuffing it into her pocket for the time being. "I'm still not sure if I'll actually go down there, but if I ever do, that'll be great for figuring the place out." Until then, she had a few things that needed taking care of above all else.
All too soon, as usual, the two of them were cut off by the return of Landel's voice above their heads. That, at least, hadn't changed. It always seemed like they had so little time to do anything in the course of a shift. Where did all that time go, even?
"Thanks again, S.T. I'm going to see if I can find my friend here next," she said with a nod. "If you need help with anything, too, let me know, okay? I don't plan on going away again anytime soon."
Please be in there, Himemiya, she thought, picking up the pace as she followed the crowd of patients into the cafeteria.
no subject
Yeah, that was him. Unfeeling monster to humans, soft spot for baby harp seals only because he'd lose his funding if he didn't go gooey over them on national TV. He hoped she'd find her friend, whether here or with a golden ticket home.
Besides, she didn't have a magic shortcut. Or she'd been holding out info, but was as guileless as a searchlight. Not stupid, just earnest. If she could make it through the brainwash corridor at rush hour, she'd be O.K. At least with the illegal fighting ring, and she liked to surround herself with smart people, so she'd be set for the Q&A.
(What had happened to that other girl? The one who acted like a fifty-year-old librarian trapped in a teenage body. Utena hadn't been frantic to find her, not like this.) Maybe that was why she was determined to stay. Having to go around searching for your best friend was one thing. Prostrating yourself for the sake of some guy you sat next to in freshman calc because you both hated waking up on time and only the seats in the front row were left? That sucked.
This whole place sucked. She needed all the luck she could get. And a better shoulder than his to cry on once she realized her buddy had checked out, so he just let her march off on here quest, a shining beacon of youthful optimism.