damned_institute | Day 57: Sun Room

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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!]

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She was starting to become uncomfortable. Having another be so concerned about her was disconcerting, far from the normal flow of things. It crossed her face, and she glanced to the side, eying the bulletin board in a pull for distraction. "I'm not fine," she responded quietly. "But I will be fine. You don't have to worry." The last sentence came almost as a plea, and she near-hated herself for the method.

Ask the details--she'd give those better. The Digimon glanced back at him, wondering. "You remember the scorpion you told me about? The cats at night are a little smaller than that, perhaps coming to my knee. And like all mammals at the institute when darkness falls--they begin to decompose while alive, becoming as undead as the people in Doyletown do once the day slips away." Though, that was right. Byrne was yet new. Hadn't she promised to test his belief in her today? "Before you came we were shown in details the way the townpeople turn to zombi at night."

Edited 2011-06-25 03:15 (UTC)

[I apologize for the delay! I had internet troubles the past two days, but it's all good now.]

Byrne saw the brief change in Renamon's expression, but it didn't stop him from being any more concerned about her. It was in his nature to care about others, after all, whether they wanted the care or not. However, he did respect the fact that she seemed unwilling to focus the conversation on her. His expression made it clear that he was still worried, but he did not press the topic any further.

(He was not aware, meanwhile, that all of this caused him to forget about his headache to the point where he didn't even feel it right now. All for the better, really.)

Their second topic gave Byrne more to worry about, especially when Renamon mentioned the Doyleton residents. Could the institute's hellish magic at night (or whatever it was supposed to be) affect outer areas as well? It sounded crazy, but...there was no longer any reason to doubt Renamon's words. "The townspeople turn into zombies at night?" he asked, eyes widening a little, "I thought the craziness at night was specific to the institute. So it's not just here, then? It's everywhere?"

[ no worries! I'm glad it got fixed. ^_^ ]

To her relief, he took the subject change. "It depends on how you define everywhere." And this brought to mind the conversation she had with Sasuke yesterday, among others. "None have been past the town--until recently, we could not even get to the town under our own power at night. The question, perhaps, is less if Doyleton is affected by the Institute, and more if it's part of the Institute itself."

She took a breath, skin stretching painfully. "In all likelihood, it exists as an extension of this place. Would we really be allowed near free roam, despite our own powerlessness? And moreso--" Here, she hesitated, despite Byrne's affirmation of belief. For it stretched most's imaginations if they were not familiar.

"...It's also possible that this isn't real at all," she continued quietly. "And that we exist in an illusion or digital representation. It would explain... much of what has happened here. And how it is possible."

An illusion? Byrne had seen the concept done to death in movies, people being subjected to dream worlds while their bodies lie dormant in some machine somewhere else, or some variant of the idea. But was it possible here? Could it be possible? And if so, how was it possible? A complicated machine or just good old drugs? The thought of it was making him very uncomfortable. This was obviously a road he didn't want to travel down just yet; the idea would break his brain fairly quickly, if all the other possibilities weren't doing a good job of hurting his head already.

Regardless, Byrne could agree wholeheartedly with the idea that Doyleton was under the influence of the institute in some way. Maybe not everyone in town was aware of the truth, but somebody knew. And they could be affected at night, meaning the power of the institute spread far beyond its walls and possibly even farther than the town.

...This was all harshly reminding Byrne of Kay and her recent escape. She might very well have tried to go into town for help that night, encountering the transformed townsfolk in the process. If she hadn't, where could she have gone if this world was not the same as her own? Badd had made a point of that before. Byrne opened his mouth to speak, wanting to ask Renamon about this; but he hesitated for a moment, glanced down at his feet, and then decided against asking. Part of him was terrified of what he might hear, the other part was afraid of telling too many people about an escapee. Not that he didn't trust Renamon, of course, he just distrusted the people around them that might eavesdrop.

He would try to keep on topic instead. "It's just...so frustrating. It's like anything could happen around here at any time and there's no real explanation for any of it." Byrne sighed. "Anything could be possible. I don't even know who's in charge anymore after this morning."

She nodded slightly at his words, expression solemn. Yes, she understood that sentiment quite well. To the point of acting near unintelligently at points. Her mouth thinned, eyes downcast. He was right, really. For anything could happen in this place, and she had been shown that repeatedly. Even as she had believed that fact, nearly from the beginning, she had still been outdone in what could happen here.

...A giant snake....

...Digressing. She looked up at him, blinking once. "In truth, we've probably never even heard of the actual person in charge. Landel himself eluded to his superiors multiple times. The dear head doctor was likely just a middle man." However, this did bring into play the question she put forth at the beginning. "Did you happen to hear the radio last night?" She paused, then went on. "It seems the new voice against oppression, Marc, has come to terms with Landel for the time being."

And they were working together. Like, in the end, there hadn't been big enough differences to keep the, apart. It did exist, the option that this Aquilar was a big enough threat for both to come to terms. However, in short, the military being here had changed little, and despite Renamon's severe distrust of government run organizations, she found herself preferring the openness in which it was ran.

...Though preferring one captor over the other perhaps spoke too well of how long she had been here.

The radio? Oh yeah, there had been something going off over the radio at the beginning of the night. Something about escaping and basements and whatnot. Byrne nodded. "I did hear some weird conversation over the radio," he answered, "but I didn't hear or understand much of what was being said. I just know one of the voices was Landel and he was talking about some basement or something." It had been difficult to hear the entire thing from where he'd been standing. But even if he had listened to the conversation more carefully, Byrne would have put the whole thing in the back of his mind anyway. Other things had been much more important at the time. For instance, he had been (and was still) worried about the tales from the future that Badd had for him. And there was always Kay and her whereabouts...

However, the radio conversation was the subject of importance right now. "So who is this Marc fellow then? The other guy that was talking over the radio?" It would seem that he still had much more to learn about the people in this place.

It seemed she'd have to start from the beginning. She gave Byrne a half-smile of amusement, then nodded. "Marc was the other voice. Before I arrived here, there was another voice on the radio. Alec Doyle, known as Mr. Radio or Jack, he gave help and hints and left gifts for the patients here. It turns out that Doyle had previously worked for the institute, and broke away to assist us. Days before I arrived, he was murdered by Landel.

"Marc is his second replacement. The first was a woman named Jill, who acted suspiciously and whose hints often led to traps instead of anything useful. Supposedly, her identity was revealed as Lydia, the head nurse here, which adds more weight to her lack of credibility. We haven't heard from her in a while now."

Renamon tilted her head, returning to the main point. "Marc is relatively new, though his position seems stable. A portion of the populace has even come into contact with him and deemed him worthy to an extent. Though... Now, he's teaming with Landel to take down Aquilar, it seems. So I'd doubt his priorities." An eyebrow lifted, something shadowed crossing her face. "Dealing with a demon to take down a devil never turns out well in the end."

Of the basement, well... She'd allow this to set in first.

...It would seem that he still had much more to learn about the people in this place. Much, much more.

Byrne's expression at the moment was something of a mix between surprise, interest, and confusion. Mostly interest, though. The thought that there had actually been an institute staff member who rebelled against the Head Doctor gave Byrne a small amount of hope. Forget the fact he was dead, someone on the inside was actually human enough to stand up for the patient populace. That proved Landel didn't have a bunch of mindless slaves working for him.

"...Looks like I'm gonna have to start paying closer attention to the radio broadcasts from now on." Byrne crossed his arms in a thoughtful pose. For a brief moment he considered asking Renamon just how these folk could be heard over the radio to begin with, but did it really matter? This wasn't a court of law where everything needed to be explained in a ridiculous amount of detail; this was a battle for survival in a place were nothing made a damn bit of sense. It wasn't worth it trying to make things even more complicated than they already were. He would ask a more beneficial question instead. "Has Marc done anything major to help out the patients, though?"

She angled her head in a give. "Sometimes. The majority of the time, it's only commentary. I don't even usually have it on me at night. I only heard last night because I ran into someone carrying theirs when it went off." The strange blond haired man. She idly wondered if he was still here. Of the second question, she wondered. And paused to think. Given time, Renamon might have considered otherwise, but head full of the night's events and light painkillers, nothing came to mind that stood alone. "Not yet, I'm afraid. That I know of. I heard rumors of his movements during the night with the portals, though I know nothing that's actual fact regarding that."

Though, here again, she doubled back. If she spoke of the portal night, here was enough to spark memory of elements and a decorative sword. It was possible Byrne knew as much as she, and if so, would not need to be informed. "Do you know about the basement they were speaking of?"

Portals? What was this about portals? ...Well. That was another thing to add to the 'common happenings around here that defied every natural law' list. A curious look briefly flashed across Byrne's face when Renamon mentioned the portals, but he decided not to say anything about it just yet. There were likely many nights with strange occurrences that he wasn't aware of. Those stories could wait. He would rather stay on topic with this basement issue and get that out of the way first.

"I wasn't aware that there was even a basement here," he admitted. "I never saw stairs leading down to it, unless they hid them away somewhere in a different part of the building. What's down there? It must be something important if Landel and Marc were going on about it."

To his look, she gave a half-smile of understanding. Something else that he hadn't heard of, then. She knew he had came in only a few days ago, but she had thought he might have possibly heard about it elsewhere. The man did not bring it up, and so the Digimon continued on subject. There was time enough to explain that later. "I'm afraid the entrance is a bit cliche. A trap door, found in the freezer of the cafeteria's kitchen."

That she had only been through once. The other time she had made it through the trials had been somewhat of a cheap adventure, dropped into the midst of them without any warning after touching the entryway's doors. Portals. She could nearly sigh at the thought. "There's a series of trials down there, quite unrealistic when put into focus of a building like this's underside. The main room is made up as a large ballroom, with four hallways trailing from it. Two can be opened, two can not be without certain conditions met it seems. One of the halls that can be opened allots one item--a decorative sword--while the opposite gives you a shield."

Of which, she could claim the former. "I've participated in two trials." She blinked at him near sedately, a smile testing the edges of her mouth despite the subject. Here, again, would be a test of his trust. "The first was a series of four rooms, each themed to an element and very nearly impossible to get through without quick reactions, speed, strength, and cleverness. Imagine lava, a room of ice, and more." That was claimed as unrealistic, and yet, here she would continue. "The other trial was a test of cleverness--solving a riddle given by a sphinx." A beat. "Yes, the mythological kind."

A very indignant, cranky sphinx.

Trap doors. Decorative weapons. Trials. Lava, a room of ice. And a sphinx.

"Sounds like a bad dream," Byrne mumbled under his breath, "or like a fairy tale." Yes, that was the kind of stuff you read to your kid at their bedtime. Harmless fairy tales, impossible stories, and therefore hard to believe when applied to the real world. But Landel himself had mentioned it over the radio along with a man that (supposedly) a lot of patients trusted, and Renamon was backing those claims up with her own experience. Logically then, it must be true, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Which, honestly, was a conclusion that applied to nearly everything else he was hearing about.

Byrne shook his head in amazement, but he kept an expression that would show Renamon that he believed her. "All I can wonder is why?" he asked, this time loud enough for her to hear. "What's the point of it all? What do they want from us?" Though a question like that would probably never be answered any time soon.

The Digimon only watched him when he spoke up, expression mixed between neutral and understanding. That was the question to ask, after all, and no matter what hints were given, they would never know for certain. Even as the military seemed to make certain aspects clear, it was still something that could change with time--a different arc, a different story, a different method. "Something that we have," she said quietly. "Humans only use others if they can gain something out of it. There's something that we can give to them, and until they are satisfied, we'll remain here. And others will keep coming here."

She blinked downward in thought, the conversation reminding her of when she spoke to Mello weeks ago. "It's possible to gain the upper hand in scenarios such as these. But only if we know what is desired from us. And only if we can deny them that." Nothing else. Nothing more.

Byrne shook his head, frowning deeply. "We're just their playthings. Running around like lab rats in their maze." Indeed, the sickos running this show were after something that these people all had. But what? Maybe they were running specific experiments on different kinds of people to get some kind of data for some top secret government project. Maybe they were aiming to create a powerful army of super humans or something.

Or maybe they were just bored.

Hell, there could be any number of reasons why these people were here. Figuring that reason out was probably hopeless, but Renamon was correct in saying it would help everyone out quite a bit to know what it was. If not to counter-act that reason somehow, then to give the patients some sense of relief. In situations like this, it was more torturous not knowing than knowing. And their captors knew that.

"Whatever they want, it's better they don't get it. I can't imagine them putting together this elaborate of a scheme for any good purpose." Certainly this facility wasn't designed to find a cure for cancer.

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Day 57: Sun Room

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