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

[threepwood]

"Oh, I know you really are Indiana Jones," Guybrush agreed, shaking his hand vigorously. "Before, I thought you were either some handsome, roguish character desperately wanting to have a more marketable name, or just plain nuts. But just like I'm actually the Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™, it turns out you are the real deal." Probably. Even if he wasn't, the chances he was were way better, and it just wasn't worth risking burning a bridge to someone whose help might be necessary someday. With as difficult as escape was proving to be, it was looking like everyone would be a potential aid in bringing down the institute in one way or another.

"And how I know about you isn't the point," he prattled on. "The point is that we have something in common."

• A penchant for fine leather jackets
• A name shared with a dog
• A fanbase that generally agrees that the fourth installment is the weakest in the series

"We're both trapped here," he said in a serious tone, "and I've come to realize that this isn't just any usual adventure involving me finding some fabulous treasure or defeating my yet-again-back-from-the-dead nemesis. As such, I probably shouldn't treat people like they're insane from the first meeting, as tempting as it is at times. So there it is. I wanted to let you know I do feel kind of bad about it. And that's a rare thing for me."

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Right, Guybrush Threepwood. He knew it was something like that. Threepwood was talking about himself as if Indy ought to recognize the name from somewhere other than their previous conversation, but maybe the reference was from outside his time. Or maybe Threepwood just had a screw loose. Indy had plenty of concerns, but having a "marketable name" wasn't one of them.

The loose-screw theory sounded increasingly plausible as Threepwood continued to hold forth on fabulous treasure (Indy was all ears) and undead enemies (Indy stopped listening). The guy had a point, though: a) most of the people Indy had initially deemed crazy had turned out to be troublingly sane, and b) either way, expanding your circle of contacts could only help in the long run. Even if they did think they were plank-walking pirates.

Indy eased himself into one of the chairs, with noticeably less pain to his burned left side and hip than yesterday. "Thanks, then," he said, and then for lack of anything more substantive to say based on their limited acquaintance, added the first line of small talk that came to mind: "So how've you been since the last time we talked?" Threepwood hadn't lost any more limbs since then, at least, although he did look like he might've seen better days.

[threepwood]

Guybrush took a seat near Dr. Jones, pleased with his progress already. Morgan may not have put much faith into the art of conversation, but there were times where it was necessary. The fact that he and his fellow patients were being held hostage in an institute where the staff didn't allow people to carry much on them inventory-wise made this one of those times. It was harder to solve problems without an assortment of items in his pockets, but that was where his years of experience with yammering came in handy.

"I've been well enough," Guybrush answered. "You know how life is around here. One minute, you're trying to escape this horrible place; the next, your roommate is trying to trash you with a sword and a flying couch, or you're being stopped by a brainwashed guard for trying to go out the front door. It's all in General Aguilar's recovery regiment, I'm sure. How about you?"

He was sure Indiana Jones had plenty of good stories to tell somewhere, though whether or not he'd actually tell any of them to someone who was pretty much a complete stranger was yet to be seen. Had he already found Aguilar? Beaten the stew out of him? Convinced the general via his fists and feats of daring to talk about his plans for the patients? Guybrush had to stop himself there, starting to get a little envious of all the things he wasn't sure Dr. Jones had even done yet.