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

[revolutionise]

In response to her questions, Utena got a lot more than she'd expected, but it was exactly the sort of thing she needed, so she was definitely not complaining. She watched as S.T. sketched out the map, then took the paper to look over as he finished up his explanations. Borrowing a pen, she quickly scribbled down a few notes next to each room, knowing that she was liable to forget these things if she didn't. Sphynx, maze, hall of armour, tail-harpoon...? Utena was confused and even more wary of the basement than before, but kept writing anyway. The last thing she wrote was "3 people - 3 enemies?? Or 3 people to open door." She would bring at least three or four down with her if she ever went, then, either way.

"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.

[toxicspiderman]

"Good luck."  Sangamon knew he should feel bad, handing a teenage girl keys to the stupidest thing he'd tried here yet.  

CHILD SOLDIER SPEAKS: BETRAYAL, TAYLOR-MADE
 ACTIVIST RECRUITED TEENAGERS FOR SUICIDE MISSIONS

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.