damned_institute | Day 58: Sun Room (Fourth Shift)

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Day 58: Sun Room (Fourth Shift)

Peter's lunch meeting with Tear had gone far better than he could have even expected. It was a good thing that he wasn't the sort of person who judged by age, seeing how the girl had proved herself to be very capable despite the fact that she was only a teenager. Not that Peter would ever admit it out loud, but Tear was a lot more mature than his own niece. He could only assume that Tear's circumstances had forced that onto her, though, which was the downside to the whole thing.

Or maybe it had something to do with her being a healer. She'd probably seen a lot of horrific things in her life already, things that some other people would never experience. Then again, Claire had seen her own body mutilated, so personality might have something to do with it too.

Either way, they had a basic plan. He was going to try and look into safe areas while Tear was going to work on their alliance with Search and Rescue. He wasn't too worried about the latter, but the former might be a pipe dream. Seeing how he had no interest in playing with beads and glitter, Peter chose to remain in the Sun Room.

It didn't take him long to draft up a message with his question, and once he'd posted it up (covering a few other replies in the process, but at the end of the day the board was low on real estate) he went ahead and found himself a seat. This way he could keep a careful eye on the replies that he got.

While he had already agreed to meet with Max tonight, Peter realized that the earliest this paramedic group could get going was the following night anyway. That was something to aim for, at least. Even if it was just him and Tear taking care of things at first, that was a start.

[For Haruno Sakura.]

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...for a moment, when the woman peered back up at him, something about her seemed strangely familiar. He wasn't entirely sure why--nothing about her was particularly remarkable and he had never made much of a habit of mentally noting every single soldier he saw. His eyes narrowed behind his hair, briefly, before he pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn't care less about where he had seen this woman, not right now. It couldn't have been important, not as important as the information she had.

It was childish of him, but he didn't want to believe Ms. Littleton's hostility had been for no reason. It had to have been what she'd taken. There had to have been something--either from a side-effect or the main effect of the drugs themselves--but he would not accept the notion that she'd turn on anyone without reason. She had been too kind for that...

What the hell were these people trying to accomplish?

"I know what a drug trial is," he responded plainly, the emotional outburst from before leaving his words more strained and hollow than usual. One of the main sources of income for the Guild had been dealing in foreign chemicals and while he didn't have personal experience with the procedures first-hand, he wasn't a neophyte to the concept. There hadn't been a need for that explanation. "What was it that those drugs were for?"

With the way that he was pursing this line of questioning, she had to assume that he had either taken the drugs, knew someone else who had taken them, or had missed out on the whole thing and now wanted to catch up. It was difficult to narrow it down, though, since the man didn't betray much emotion. The hair had to be a part of that.

"Well, there were a number of different drugs that were supposed to have different effects. I don't know the exact specifics, but I'm fairly certain they either inflicted a mental or physical change."

That shouldn't be surprising to any patient who had been here for a decent length of time. It was a common pattern here, though the general had invited people to do that to themselves rather than inflicting it on whoever he liked.

Granted, there was no saying that he wouldn't punish more thoroughly in the future. The man did a decent job of being reserved in most cases, but when he was pushed past his limits...

So they had intended a psychological effect with those drugs...

Guilt again wedged itself into his chest and all at once it was hard to breathe. His fingers curled in on themselves and his mouth tightened into a line, but nothing else betrayed that unhappy reaction. He should have told her not to go. He should have done something instead of blindly follow Ms. Littleton along and encourage her decision to go to that damn Medical Wing. It would be safe, he told her. There wasn't a reason to worry. Why on earth would it be a trap? If she had gone with him to find Martin Landel, surely she would have di---

His eyes shut tight behind the veil, hard enough to see flashes of light. There were a lot of things he could say to that, really. It would especially be all too easy to fault the woman in front of him simply for her association. In the end, it was only one word that ended up being vocalized. "Why?"

Edited 2011-08-31 14:53 (UTC)

It was a simple question in some ways. Only one word, and yet how could she answer? The man seemed to have gone through something horrible last night, and yet here he was, still standing. Still staring down and questioning her. A good soldier; Aguilar might have found his endurance admirable.

Of course, that was something she could only guess at. She would probably be punished for even daring to assume she knew the way that the general's mind worked.

"Some effects are meant to enhance; make a person a better, more efficient fighter. Others are meant to be debilitating -- the sort of thing that's ultimately meant for our enemies. But they have to be tested somewhere." She was frowning at this point, since it wasn't as if this was the ideal method by which to accomplish these goals. Using the ones they'd kidnapped as lab rats... Maybe some of the others could stomach it, but it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Debilitating?" He shouldn't have been surprised, but something akin to that emotion managed to leak into the emptiness of his voice. They were purposely poisoning them, be it random or no. After that long-winded rant Aguilar gave about how they weren't simple test-subjects or animals, he still decided to let them test medicine that had potential to kill them in more ways than one. And without so much as telling them they were effectively testing his weapons on themselves?

Honestly, he had understood taking anything from the man who was keeping them captive was a gamble. But using the people they claimed to need the help of this way, to do this to their "future soldiers", was mind-bogglingly counterproductive.

"And your leader has the wherewithal to claim himself any different from Landel." It was said quietly, ire dripping from every syllable. The two of them were both sadistic, idiotic bastards with over-inflated egos. He was going to find a way to bring the both of them down. If it were the last thing he did, he was going to show them that they too could die and should very well be afraid of it.

But the actions of those in charge of this prison did not make up the entire story, did it? There was still those outside. "When you say enemies, you're referring to Second World, aren't you? Who are they?"

Edited 2011-08-31 18:40 (UTC)

Criticisms made against the general were only to be expected, and so the soldier's expression hardly wavered in response to that comment. There was nothing to say about it, even if his anger was something that normally should have been addressed. She wasn't here to make apologies or stroke wounded egos. She was here to answer questions.

However, what the man came out with next was apparently not something she'd been expecting. The woman's shoulders tensed for a moment as she stared up at him with an unmasked look of surprise on her face.

"How do you know that name?"

"That isn't an answer," he responded sharply. And it wasn't her business. As much as he couldn't claim the voice over the radio was particularly useful, a life of crime had instilled a strange level of loyalty when it came to others fighting against an authority. Whether he liked them or not, being trusted with information was enough for him to keep quiet on the source. If she wanted to know the information on that file, she wasn't going to get it from Venom. He wasn't a rat.

...there was that feeling again, like he was forgetting something important. He lolled his head to the side, more to shake the sensation off than anything else. The shift in weight forced his mutilated bangs to part and he took to fixing the woman sitting before him with a tired eye.

He tried again, his tone dropping into something more patient than before. "Who are they?"

Edited 2011-08-31 22:03 (UTC)

Of course he wouldn't answer that question, even when she had been answering all of his. Still, that brief exchange gave the soldier more than enough time to regain her composure and settle down again.

"If you know the name, then you probably already have an idea of it," she said after a pause. "Still, they are, in the end, little more than a thorn in the military's side." Her tone held a hint of bitterness, but what it was directed toward was difficult to say.

"The real enemy is something else entirely, but that's a subject you would call off limits." She glanced down at her hands, making sure that she wasn't wringing them together in her lap. She wasn't; he hadn't unsettled her that much.

So whatever war the institute had dragged them into was not against the rebels...? "What point is there to leave your solders-to-be in the dark," he mumbled to himself, mulling over that statement. This entire operation, from the view of one leader to another, was a complete joke. You didn't train people this way. You didn't torture them, test weaponry on them, or try to coax them into joining your side by hinting at some darker evil. The Guild was no shining beacon of kindness, but they knew better than to keep the truth hidden from their members. They were taught from day one what they were supposed to do. This would not breed the results they wanted.

Were they even playing for results? At this point, the Guild Head wasn't entirely sure they weren't just doing this for the fun of it.

Regardless, he wasn't above taking a hint and he wasn't enough of an idiot to start pressing a solider in the middle of the day, so he moved toward a change in subject. She had done this willingly and could leave just as easily. There wasn't a way to gain an upper-hand in this situation.

"Our visitors. Have they all gone through this program as well?"

That first comment didn't seem to be directed at her, if the way the man lowered his tone was indication. He seemed annoyed, but it wasn't her job to try and assuage any of that. She was delivering the facts; the opinions he formed in response to them were not her concern. He didn't seem to agree with the general's methods, but chances were most of the people kept here didn't.

Surprisingly, he changed his tactic after that, asking a completely different question. Once again, an inquiry about the visitors. Maybe it was only to be expected, that they would be curious about the ones waiting for them.

"I believe some of them have, though as far as I'm aware, others weren't kept here for nearly as long... or for any time at all." It was difficult to know if she knew more than she was letting on, but it was made obvious that she wasn't going to elaborate. The way her hands tightened around her knees made that clear enough to someone with a practiced eye.

...what did she mean by that?

Others weren't kept here for nearly as long or for any time at all. He didn't understand what she was implying. Was she saying some of these "visitors" were here by choice? That they hadn't been manipulated at all (and he wasn't going to believe that. Master Zato would never enslave himself or toss himself into the middle of a war that was none of his business)? Or was she referring to the casualties, like Ms. Littleton? He knew hers was not the only death. If this woman was their soldier now, that must have meant she'd been put through this program as well...

As horrid as he was at hiding his own emotions, he wasn't blind to noticing them in others. He'd caught the tightening of her hands, as well as the coldness in her voice when discussing the rebellion. While there was always the large chance she was growing increasingly irritated at his questions, something told him that wasn't it entirely.

The eye that was watching her softened, as did his voice. "It isn't working, is it? Next-Wave, I mean."

Edited 2011-09-01 20:59 (UTC)

As far as the soldier could tell, that question came out of nowhere.

It caused her to look up at the man with an expression that was much harder than anything she'd exposed during the rest of their talk. But that was all it was: hard, closed off. She also didn't seem to be comfortable with their imbalance anymore and so she got to her feet, dusting herself off and straightening her uniform as she did so.

"What makes you think that? You're all still here, aren't you?" And those who left were still in their control. No one ever got away.

"Precisely."

When the woman stood, the assassin took a polite step away to give her her space. That gesture, however, even with the expression she gave with it, was not going to quiet him. "We're all still here, in this institute, and not a part of your ranks."

Perhaps that needed an elaboration. Venom folded his hands behind his back, fingers interlacing as he took to glancing about the room. Most of the patients remained particularly disheartened, injured, and incredibly frustrated, but they were still here. "Those who are released have a large chance of rebounding from the mental conditioning, some in less than a day." Like himself. "Those that aren't released are either killed or stay here."

He tilted his head up and toward the ceiling, as if their captor was somehow there. "I understand that this program must have worked at some time or another. You would not be here, otherwise. However, as of late, this 5-step program looks like it fell apart at stage 2. With the in-fighting, the rebellions, and plain stubbornness of the patient body... They've succeeded to kidnap us and torment us, but the majority of us are not going anywhere."

So that was what he thought.

The woman let out a sigh, but whether it was from relief or frustration couldn't be said. Each of her movements and expressions was controlled, as if she had been briefed strictly before being allowed to do this. And maybe she had.

"It's true that some are taking longer to condition than others, but you must have realized that some do disappear from this place and never, ever come back. Or if they do, it's in the form of a visitor. It's true that it's a slow-going process, but don't you realize that the general has prepared for that?"

She frowned at him, looking almost disappointed, before glancing away.

Yes, he knew that. Some never did come back. Bridget, Alkaid, Cla--... He rolled his shoulders back, like that would slide the returning guilt off of his body. He couldn't let that weigh him down right now. He had an opening for at least some new information and last night was not going to affect that.

Concentrate on the conversation at hand, Venom.

His arms swung from behind his back to the front of his chest, and he crossed them there. "And how does he plan on making this go any faster? From what I see, he's having just as much luck as Landel." By now, his words had become just as much an attempt to goad the woman into spilling information as much as it had been to make a point. She'd displayed far more emotion than any of the other guards he had encountered, that one man (...Harrington?) aside. Though he couldn't pin her current attitude on frustration, it could be useful if it was. Angry people were just as likely to say something they didn't mean as they were to leave the conversation. There had to be something...

He tilted his head to the side, continuing that train of thought. "If not worse. Landel at least had the common sense to know it was harder to rebel against a man if you weren't sure he was your enemy. As tacky as I found it, the duel-personalities he put on at least had some use in confusing his audience. Aguilar is a straight-forward man and has therefore made himself an easier target. Don't you think so?"

While the soldier hadn't given much of a reaction when Landel's name had been mentioned before, that wasn't the case now that he was being talked of in more detail. As the patient started to describe Landel's method of communicating with the patients, the woman's features darkened and it looked like she'd just tasted something sour. If it was between Aguilar and Landel, it was clear which one she would pick.

"There's something to be said for being direct, though," she pointed out after a pause. "As you said, Landel was tacky. At least Aguilar makes himself clear."

Not that she was interested in getting into some sort of debate. That wasn't likely to be productive, after all. Either way, she had gotten weary of taking his barrage of questions and so it was time to take control of the conversation.

Slowly, she started to circle the man. There wasn't anything threatening about it, but it did grant her a more casual air. "Now, let me ask you... why do you think you're here?"

There it was. His head tilted to the side once shown that face of absolute contempt. So she hated Martin Landel as much as the rest of them, but the question remained as to why.

He had been ready to continue before the woman began to move, walking around him as if he'd put himself there for inspection. Kch. As much as he knew she could turn this on him...

"The same reason everyone else is." His hands tightened against his arms, a crack of annoyance in his facade of calm. "I've been dragged into a training program against my will with the ultimate goal of forcing me into a war that I won't be told the purpose of." He kept his head straight as she continued to circle him, but his voice managed to be just loud enough to be heard. "I cannot speak for myself, but I'm fairly certain many of the people here would have been delighted to help if your general had simply asked."

That didn't answer the question, and the fact that he was avoiding it stood out to her. What did he have to hide? Granted, she personally didn't know what he was here for, what had made him stand out. Perhaps he'd assumed that she did, but now she actually was curious.

His final comment caused her to halt, the heels of her boots clicking together as she eyed him. Did he truly believe that, or was he just looking for a reaction?

"...Sorry, but I find that hard to believe. Why would anyone willingly come to fight a war that has nothing to do with them? And seeing how a lot of the candidates aren't even from this planet..." No, she couldn't believe that anyone was that selfless. Not even some of the people here. If he could prove to her otherwise, then he was welcome to, but...

Honestly? He was just attempting to get the subject off of himself. When it appeared to work, the grip on his arms softened and he turned to fully face the woman.

He shrugged at her question, voice refusing to betray anything other than a strange ease. Had she even been here for more than a day? "You'd be surprised what the people here would do for complete strangers." He still was. As someone who had spent most of his life in the darkness, being suddenly surrounded by people so willing to turn on the light was... uncomfortable. While he couldn't claim to understand it, being trapped for as long as he had had illuminated just how much the people here could bond together over their mutual sorrows. They formed teams, blindly banded together to run into the unknown, and somehow managed to gain odd friendships in the process. These were people who were far too nice. These were people who would probably die for one another.

He didn't particularly want to join in (be it due to plain misanthropy or fear of history repeating), but he wasn't going to stop others from doing so. That was their business and something this soldier had evidently missed.

Besides... "Your people have gone through incredible lengths to drag all of us here, put on a facade to keep your civilians from worrying, and refuse to divulge what it is you're all afraid of. Whatever you are fighting must be something incredible and there are too many good Samaritans here for them to not want to help."

It was then that the ease in his voice lessened and was replaced with something more acidic. "However, I personally can't sympathize with anyone who's committed the crimes your government has." Not after what they'd done to Master Zato. Not after what they'd forced him to do to Ms. Littleton. "I cannot imagine the rest of this prison's populace feeling any different. As far as I'm concerned, you're on your own."

He made it sound so simple when he put it that way, but she wasn't convinced. It was true that many of the prisoners in this place were extremely strong-willed and kindhearted. It was impossible to miss, with the way that the higher-ranked tried to share their food; even the sheer fact that they all chatted amongst themselves rather than sitting in stony silence stood out. Part of that was out of necessity, of course. Considering the situation they were in, they were more or less forced to band together.

Perhaps that was part of Aguilar's goal. If a camaraderie was formed, that only made them stronger fighters. If they trusted each other in a battle, then they would be even more useful as soldiers.

That, of course, was all speculation, but it was interesting nonetheless. "You seem to have more faith than I do," she said after a pause. "It's true that all of you are kind to each other, but that's because of your shared situation. Given the choice to go fight a war on foreign land or remain with one's own obligations and friends and family, the choice is simple.

"Perhaps a few would have agreed, but I think Aguilar needs more than a few." Her tone was matter-of-fact as she did her best to keep her own opinions out of the conversation.

His last comment wasn't acknowledged. She didn't seem to be looking for sympathy or anything of the sort, and she didn't need to indulge or provoke him.

In regards to his anger, the woman kept silent. Without anything else to feed into it, the emotion left his voice just as easily as it came, leaving each word sounding faintly tired. "I wouldn't call it 'faith.'" That would imply it was a positive thing. It really wasn't. There was nothing positive about those kindhearted people constantly being betrayed.

His right hand went to his forehead, finding a way under his hair to rest its palm against his temples. That feeling, the one where he knew someone was watching him, was only growing stronger. Opening his eyes would only proved Ms. Littleton was still there, so he kept them closed.

He couldn't look at her right now. Not when he was working.

"Why won't they tell us what it is we're supposed to be fighting?" He didn't mean for it to come out as exhausted as it did.

It was a valid question and one that should be answered carefully. It should have been a simple matter, just brushing it off as Aguilar's decision, and yet for a long while the soldier simply stared at the man. The look on her face was a conflicted one, as if she was trying to make her mind up about something.

But then the intercom came on, causing her to stiffen to attention as she glanced around the room. She watched as her fellow soldiers got to work in gathering up their charges; soon this patient would have someone coming to collect him as well.

They had run out of time, but in this case that came as a relief.

"It seems that we're done for now," she said once Harrington's voice had cut off. She turned away from him, her posture rigid and professional. "Good luck," she muttered before striding away from him.

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Day 58: Sun Room (Fourth Shift)

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