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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
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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?