http://damned-intercom.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
damned-intercom.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-12-07 10:28 am
damned-intercom.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2011-12-07 10:28 am
Day 60: Intercom, Noon
The intercom jingled a minute later than scheduled, but the Head Doctor seemed as happy as ever. Fortunately for his audience, he kept all melodic tendencies away from his announcement.
"Goodness me! It's a little difficult to keep track of one's time just shortly after a long vacation." A chuckle. "I apologize for the delay. Let's begin our lunch schedule, shall we?"
He cleared his throat.
"Now, we're going to be doing things differently this time around. Instead of congregating in the cafeteria, you will be free to go to any of our approved activity rooms. For sustenance, our nurses will provide you with a sacked lunch filled with your choice of chicken or grilled cheese sandwiches, apple slices, a juice box, and a fudge brownie.
Bon appétit! Enjoy your 'free range' shift!"
The intercom clicked off.
[ As stated, this shift is a FREE CHOICE shift. Patients may go into the following rooms: the game room, music room, arts and crafts room, library, courtyard, and the rec field. ]
"Goodness me! It's a little difficult to keep track of one's time just shortly after a long vacation." A chuckle. "I apologize for the delay. Let's begin our lunch schedule, shall we?"
He cleared his throat.
"Now, we're going to be doing things differently this time around. Instead of congregating in the cafeteria, you will be free to go to any of our approved activity rooms. For sustenance, our nurses will provide you with a sacked lunch filled with your choice of chicken or grilled cheese sandwiches, apple slices, a juice box, and a fudge brownie.
Bon appétit! Enjoy your 'free range' shift!"
The intercom clicked off.
[ As stated, this shift is a FREE CHOICE shift. Patients may go into the following rooms: the game room, music room, arts and crafts room, library, courtyard, and the rec field. ]
no subject
Kurama opened his eyes and was greeted with a simple, white ceiling. Clearly, not the ceiling of his allotted chambers in Makai. The probability of altered weather patterns was becoming less and less likely then. Taking care not to make any unnecessary moves before it was safe to do so, he turned his head ever so slightly to take in his surroundings.
He was in a small room, Western in style, and as white as the ceiling had been. Institutionally-white, he might describe it, as it seemed like the kind of pristine cleanness that could be found in a hospital or medical institute. In fact, that seemed to be exactly the sort of room he was in –- a standard-issue hospital room or long-term patient room.
The details were calmly absorbed and analyzed in a flash: Kurama was alone in one of the two beds available; the other was empty, perhaps empty for a time, considering the state of the undisturbed, immaculate bed sheets. The other side of the room was a mirror of his own –- another reason to believe this might be a standard-issue sort of room. There were no windows. That last fact was unsettling; the knowledge that he was trapped in an unknown room with no visible way out left Kurama with a vaguely claustrophobic feeling. He pushed it down and instead, made to sit up. There was never much point in resorting to panic in any situation.
A desk at the foot of his metal-framed bed, an utterly unimpressive chair accompanying the desk, and a sliding-door closet beyond. Ah, the door. It lay between the room’s two closets. As there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, he slid out of his bed and moved to try the door. It was locked. Of course. Kurama hadn’t expected any less, but there hadn’t been much to lose in trying. There were other options he could try, though. Finding creative ways to break past an obstacle was his specialty, after all.
But before Kurama could do anything else, the door opened, admitting a lady dressed in a white uniform. Confirmed, then, his suspicions about the place he was in. The fact that there were no windows hinted at the fact that he might not be imprisoned in a normal hospital. The woman gave him a fake smile and checked a clipboard before addressing him.
"Mr. Abe, is it -– am I pronouncing it right? How was your first night? I hope you slept well." Without waiting for Kurama to respond, she plowed onward. :I’m afraid you slept in a little late and missed two shifts, but that's quite alright. We're having a little change in procedure, so instead of having lunch in the cafeteria, you'll be given a lunch bag and directed to a certain number of rooms for the duration of this shift."
She moved into the room, holding the door open with one hand, clearly expecting him to just walk out and follow her. Kurama was having none of that. There was no reason to panic, but there was also no reason not to find any of this completely wrong. What reason did he have to be in an institution? He had not suffered any injuries and had no medical records for anything that would require him to be in a place like this. Laughable really, since if he were to follow the guidelines of the human understanding of psychological well-being, he'd be considered a head case for sure.
no subject
"Ah, excuse me," he began, recognizing that it would be prudent to watch his words and remain civil when speaking. It seemed that he was in the 'patient' role here and while the entire situation was worrying, the fastest way to get anywhere with the smallest amount of effort was to find out as much as he could with as little trouble as possible. Upsetting the nurse might prompt her to call for more people, which, while not being something he couldn't deal with if he had to, was something he'd rather not expend additional effort on. People expected compliance and, if in doing so (for the time being), Kurama could gain valuable insight, then it was the obvious decision to make.
"I... apologize if this might seem like a strange question. I might be a bit disoriented perhaps... but what am I here for?" The nurse had referred to him as 'Mr. Abe,' but the thing that stood out most to Kurama wasn't the fact that that clearly wasn't any of his names, but something else. She'd pronounced the Japanese surname correctly, but it seemed to strange to Kurama that she would ask if she was pronouncing it correctly, when she had been using perfect Japanese all along. And additionally, she'd used 'Mr.' which was a Western honorific of sorts, if he wasn't mistaken. What was going on?
The nurse paused and gave him a look, then referred back to her clipboard.
"Oh, I see," she said, then gave him that smile again, the one she was required to give to all patients as part of protocol. "It's perfectly alright, Mr. Abe. Let's see in your file here... Seimei Abe, 17-years-old, Japanese, and you’re just here for a little stay. And we'll be sure to make it as comfortable and enjoyable for you as we can, so don't you worry! And I suppose I could call you 'Seimei,' right? Would you like that?"
From her reply, Kurama noticed a few things. First, that she had evaded his actual question and answered him with a vague, humoring response. She was holding information back. Why? If he analyzed the situation, there were a few possibilities. Either that whoever had imprisoned him in here didn’t want him to know more than they wanted him to, or that the nurse really did consider him a patient and something in his medical records and information kept her from revealing too much to him. And secondly, his name was definitely not Seimei Abe.
"... May I see my file?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully polite so as not to seem threatening or forceful. Whatever reason the nurse had for keeping him in the dark, it was clear that Kurama was meant to play by her rules and the rules of the place that he was in. The easiest way to manipulate the situation to his advantage was to make the opponent believe they had the upper-hand.
The nurse hesitated, her smile sticking uncomfortably in one position. She was uncertain about that notion, Kurama noticed. He kept his expression in an inquiring one, kept his posture neutral, and waited. It paid off, it seemed, because the nurse gave a small sigh and walked over, lifting up a page from her clipboard and holding it in front of him so he could see the page beneath.
"Well, you seem to be stable enough right now, so I don't see why not. They advised me to try not to remind you as much as possible. It could trigger an episode, the doctors said."
But Kurama wasn't listening to her. His eyes were wide as he took in the information written in messy, doctor's writing on the page before him.
no subject
Age: 17 years
...
...
No official diagnosis, but believed to have MPD, or some similar personality disorder. Believes himself to be a fox demon, Japanese folklore. Calls himself Kurama when in this personality. Has a third personality, an honor-student and someone he calls his 'human disguise for Kurama.' Called Shuuichi Minamino.
Avoid confronting patient with this fact. May become aggravated and pose a threat to himself and/or others.
...
There was more on the page, but he stopped reading.
What was going on? Who was behind all this?! 'MPD,' the file had said. It clearly stood for 'Multiple-Personality Disorder,' one of those disorders that psychologists and psychiatrists couldn't decide were real or not. Were they, whoever 'they' were, trying to write off his life as a fraud, something that only existed in his mind? How dare they, when his entire human persona, when Minamino Shuuichi was already a lie and it cost him so much already to maintain it?! Who could possibly-- but no, wait, information, information, he needed information. There was a way out. There was always a way out. The whole deal was infuriating -- what, had they thought he wouldn’t notice, or perhaps they had meant for him to notice –- but Kurama would gain nothing by letting his emotions take control. Besides, the file had clearly stated that they were wary of any 'aggravated' behavior. In an institute such as this, there had to be countermeasures against violent patients.
The nurse was studying him worriedly, so Kurama took a silent, deep breath, and turned to her, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Thank you," he said evenly. "That was helpful. I'm alright."
She gave him a few more seconds of doubt before smiling back, putting an arm behind him to herd him toward the door.
"I’m glad you seem fine after that! I was afraid I would have to resort to other options if something had happened, and we wouldn’t want that!"
There it was, the threat of power. Most humans could not compare to Kurama’s demonic abilities, but he had no idea what sort of power this place held over him. Whoever had managed to put him here had enough power to do it without him noticing and, in addition, knew about his life and everything it meant. From here on out, until he could get enough information, the possibilities were unknown.
Fine then. He'd play by their rules for now.
Kurama obediently stepped out the door, observing his surroundings and memorizing the route they took as he followed the nurse to their destination.
One thing had to be for sure though, Kurama thought grimly. Abe Seimei. In the first few years of his life as a human, he'd found the human concept of his youko species an interesting topic to read up on and he was familiar with the folktale. Abe no Seimei had been an onmyouji of the Heian period, said to be the son of Kuzunoha, a famous kitsune in lore.
They were mocking him.
no subject