damned_institute | Day 60: Music Room (Fourth Shift)

It wasn't often that Renji felt less like punching people in general as his day wore on. This was a new experience for him. A not unwelcome one, if he was being honest. And the fact that he felt less like punching Fai? Kind of mind-blowing. The sort of thing Zen masters would probably use as a kouan to reach an all-new level of non-punching enlightenment.

So he was back from the dead, almost everyone he'd known was gone, and yet bizarrely his day felt like it was looking up. Kind of. Renji wasn't sure what to make of this. Maybe his grumpy meter was just nearing empty. That was as good an explanation as the next, considering how this place made him feel.

Whatever the reason, he ended up in the music room. And he remembered oh yeah. He'd always kind of hated this damn shift. He grabbed a little book of music and a drum and retreated quickly to the far end of the room. He put the drum down in front of him just so he looked like he was doing something and opened the book. But he had no idea how to read music, and really, he was more interested in the ongoing puzzle of what the hell had happened in the last four weeks.

And brooding. Of course. There was always brooding to be done.

[Okay Tolten, let me lay it out for you. When there's a mommy and a daddy... or sometimes a daddy and a dadddy. Or, hell, sometimes a mommy and a mommy if you buy the right kind of wood cuts (and a third mommy if you go to just the right shop)... but anyway when they love each other very much, or at least a suitably large amount of money changes hands, there are some things that happen...]

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Music. Not her thing, though apparently some people didn't understand that! And by some people she meant the nurse that had returned to ruin her stay by making her be more social than she really wanted to be.

"All I wanted was to check the board, was that really so much to ask?!" she huffed as the nurse fled, hopefully in fear after leaving Donna in the Music Room. Looking around the space, Donna took her time to calm down and at least think a little on how she should word it the next time she wanted to check out the bulletin. "Going to go yell at aliens" is probably what had bunched the nurse's panties.

"Guess I'll have to make nice with someone in here then..." she eventually decided, brushing her hair back and looking for a nurse that she could do just the opposite of that to. Instead of landing on a woman in white though, Donna's attention fell to another form of white that looked distantly familiar. White hair on a young boy... yeah, she'd seen that. Back when her roommate's name had been Meche and she'd almost gotten shot with a gun.

It had been a few weeks since then, but she still remembered the little brat. Albie, or... whatever name it was that she'd gotten the nickname of "Albie" for. It really had been a while, though not long enough for Donna to have forgotten that she owed the little boy a follow up. He'd been completely rude to her and her roommate, brainwashed though she'd been, and she'd never even gotten around to a reprimand. Still, for as long as it had been... well, she could give him a little slack at first. He was pretty young after all, and had been there as long as she had to boot.

"Hey Albie," she called, going over to him somewhat casually, "Hope your attitude's improved since last time. You remember me?"

His musings were interrupted by a voice his mind found familiar. It was not placed immediately--a nickname was annoying but not enough to pull recognition. It was only when he turned partially towards the voice did he recall.

...In vivid awareness, with lucid fluidity. That woman. Three weeks had not nearly been enough to sever the layer of annoyance that settled over that night's memories. In response to her casual greeting, Albedo's eyes narrowed, expression drying. "...Sadly, yes."

Ah, if one worried about a fraying mind, best to give it focus, no? And here, have focus in the form of irritation.

It was possible the boy would have preferred a mental cracking.

"So a 'no' for the attitude, is it?" Donna shook her head and folded her arms over, watching him. Here she'd been attempting to give him a chance and he was already back to being rude. Brat. "You've gotta be kidding me. If you've been stuck here this long, you had to have been at least a little better than before or someone would have killed you already for it..."

If Donna was expecting 'time to heal all wounds,' Albedo was the wrong place to look. The boy held grudges on principle, and kept irritation close at hand. Except the woman seemed to be just as annoyed. There was a resonance in that, and opposite to mentality, Albedo smiled thinly. "That would mean you're under the impression that someone could kill me."

Said charmingly, and lacking the annoyance of before. "It's a bit of the opposite, actually." But one needn't speak of strangling girls or torturing a stupid man to prove a point. In this subject, he was only eternally amused.

Donna wasn't expecting any form of "wound-healing". It was more that she always followed up when she decided she was going to do something. Besides that, the kid did give her some way of remembering Meche; and if she was being completely honest, she had overdone it a bit back then - before she'd understood that there could be anything from aliens to fish in this place that only looked human.

And with that kind of response? She could only guess at what he really was. Hadn't he been glowing that time before as well? Purple eyes...

"Oh I'd love to hear you explain that one," Donna returned, unable to help the smile she also found. She still thought the kid was a brat, but spunk she enjoyed. Even from brats. "Unless you're just being confident, which I guess isn't a bad thing," she shrugged. She took her own method of confidence when it came to the place, but even she knew her way was mostly all talk. She had no problem with running to keep herself breathing and couldn't fault anyone who took the same route.

...He was nearly surprised at the return. No smart remarks or any retorts other than a casual reply. Maybe the woman had shifted since he'd seen her last. It wouldn't be what he expected, but he had been wrong when it came to others before. Albedo would hold his opinion for now. He kept the smile, tilting his head to the side. "Confidence is a virtue, then?" he said, tone nearly teasing. "I'll have to remember that."

The truth, however, was far more simple. "It's more fact than opinion, though. I can't be killed. And harm is but only temporary." He smirked lightly, then gave in that teasing tone. "Do you exist on belief, or would you require proof?" He hadn't done a show like that in a while. Not since that girl or that man, and well. All involved knew well how Klavier and Albedo's relations had progressed from there.

"It can be whatever the hell it wants so long as it keeps you alive," Donna nodded. Confidence, stupidity, running... if it worked, she had no problem at all with it. Neither should anyone else.

So it was a fact that this kid couldn't die? Well, if he said so...

"With the things I've seen before, I'm fine taking your word on that one." Though it was true Donna hadn't actually seen something that couldn't die, even when it came to like... Robots and stuff, but she'd rather take his word for it than get what she could only assume would be a strangely horrific display. Probably bloody too. "I'd be crazy not to believe you anyway. You'd have to have been some kind of immortal to not have gotten offed from your attitude. Do you always play this nice with others, or am I special?"

For one that had no worry about remaining alive (truth and a lie), the sentence was curious. However, it reminded him of Nigredo and a lack, and for that, he didn't argue the statement--only inclined his head to show that he heard. She seemed to accept the same of his own explanation, and he raised his eyebrows somewhat in curiosity. If she was telling the truth, then what had she seen before all of this?

The woman went on, and Albedo made a face, though the general disgust had been wiped from this interaction. "I've been told I'm quite charming, actually," he said, teasing. He thought a moment, and then spoke more truthfully. "With certain people, I'm worse. There's a man I offer my attentions to much more than you. I might have hated anyone I came across that night, however. There's no way of knowing."

He was certainly more different than he had been that first night. Manner of speech, expression--Albedo had evened out, perhaps not in ways deemed as wholly healthy, but he was not the wreck he had been at the start. Murder and its aftermath would have that affect.

Day 60: Music Room (Fourth Shift)

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