Day 61: Sun Room (third shift)

[witchoftruth]

The moment dear Landel-san announced that it was time for lunch, Erika wasted no time and headed straight for the Sun Room's bulletin board to check if there was any response to her message left for her dear friend. Predictably, there was nothing for her on the board, and the detective scowled as she realized she might have to write him off as a loss. She had lost a good number of potential allies in this place, but losing this one was a bit of a blow, if only because he had useful things on him. On the other hand, if he was gone, and that ring was still here...

Perhaps it was not a great loss, then. Still, Erika was mildly annoyed as she wandered away from the board and back towards a nearby couch. She was spending a lot of time in the Sun Room lately, which seemed to be a bit of a waste as she could have spent in going around the Institute. On the other hand, she had a sandwich here that was waiting to be consumed and after spending a week with little access to "real food", Erika was more then happy to enjoy her time spent eating.

Still, at some point she was going to have to manage her time a little more effectively. There was no reason why she couldn't multitask, so Erika kept her gaze on the door of the Sun Room so she could watch people filter in on their way to other rooms. She wouldn't get everyone, no, but perhaps she would find someone useful that she could bother for the rest of the shift. A familiar face, or maybe someone new. She'd decide on that eventually.

[ hau Seishin ready for round 2. /killed ]

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[ryuuzaki]

Something disturbed L's sleep—he dreamed of a swarm of bees that formed themselves into the shape of a lumbering man, twice life-size, buzzing with anger. A gust of wind dispersed the insects, and the skeleton of the man clattered to the ground, dry old bones sounding against each other.

He murmured, fussed, and rolled onto his side to face the wall.

The lack of windows made it hard to tell what time it was when he woke up, but he knew that it was late and that he had probably missed at least part of breakfast: Orihara was nowhere to be seen, and the corridor outside of his room seemed quiet, in contrast to the bustle he could expect if it were still early.

He sat up, blinking, then raised one hand to his head and rubbed his scalp, his fingers brushing against the fine, smooth scar on the back of his head. None of it dispelled his drowsiness, but time would probably take care of that. He flexed his toes, then slid his feet into the slippers that waited beside the bed, then moved to take the journal and a pen from the desk drawer. He was interrupted by the intercom.

Lunch...? It's even later than I thought. Landel seemed to be sticking to his new meal plan, for the time being. That meant that L had missed access to the fruit at the salad bar for the entire day... still, the meal itself would be tolerable, if he took the cheese sandwich.

He was more troubled by the fact that he had missed at least two opportunities for conversations: he still wanted to talk to Jones, and he wanted to find Daemon, to learn what he could about the encounter Daemon had had two nights earlier. If other people got to them first, he'd have to postpone, and in doing so, he might lose the chance to get the information at all.

At least we were able to accomplish something last night. It wasn't much of a breakthrough, but it was the most he had been able to manage in days. He had a nagging feeling that if he had approached this as a regular case rather than an involuntary one, it would have been wrapped up by now with very little personal cost to him. That was as irritating as anything else. They might have saved his life by pulling him away from the Kira case, but they had put him into a situation that was hard for him to tolerate. It required the constant suppression of annoyance and anger on a level he had never attempted in the past.

The nurse appeared a moment later to lead him to the Sun Room, where he took his bagged lunch. Apart from the items Landel had mentioned, the bag also contained a small lollipop, cream soda flavored, a familiar American style with a waxed paper wrapper. Not bad, but this couldn't possibly constitute the "changes" that the doctor had mentioned so ominously.

He glanced around the room again, and something stood out: there weren't many people in the Sun Room. A "free shift"... it sounds like we're being given a choice, but I don't think many of us would choose to be here at all... the choice is illusory. It's a way for Landel to present himself as magnanimous. In actuality, allowing patients to choose one of half a dozen places to spend the next hour or two, and combining that license with the fact that we're escorted everywhere and therefore can't simply search for someone until we find them, greatly inhibits our ability to strike up conversations, especially those that haven't been planned ahead of time. It scatters us. It makes us less of a threat, whether in theory or in practice. He had a sense that the most cynical interpretation possible would usually be the correct one. That wasn't always true, but it was often true, and until he was free of the Institute, he might as well consider it a rule to live by.

He saw a man who he thought might be Daemon, but that man was already deep in conversation with someone else. Jones didn't appear to be around, and there was no way of knowing which of the other areas he might have chosen, so that avenue was also a temporary dead end. Lunge was here, talking to the older man L had met a few days earlier, but L's third choice, Edgar, was nowhere to be seen, and the bulletin board held nothing of pressing interest.

With a sigh, he found a seat on one of the sofas and took the cheese sandwich out of the paper bag, waiting for something to turn up.

["Something" = another Japanese kid who wants to save the world by killing a lot of people. Hi, Niikura!]

[oneman_onekill]

And that something would turn up when he wanted to, thank you very much. After braving the chill outdoors and a curious conversation, Niikura was ready for a side of lounging to go with his lunch. He accepted the bag from the nurse eagerly and then brushed off her suggestions that he check out one of the activity rooms. Like he'd want to distract himself from the wonder and glory that was food...yeah right.

There were a lot of people already in the Sun Room by the time he'd come back from returning his outdoor clothes to his room, but they hadn't taken over all the sofas yet, and he eagerly flopped into the nearest one with a sigh of satisfaction. And now, the moment he had been waiting for: he opened the bag slowly, drawing out the crinkle of the paper as long as he could before fishing the cheese sandwich out and unwrapping it. It could be an art form, eating; he had certainly perfected it.

Niikura happily took a large bite and chewed away as he kept his eye on the people surrounding him. There was Badd, talking to some other old geezer, and his partner chatting up some girl. It was funny, the contrast in their conversational choices, although he knew that they were not necessarily voluntary. Anyone else he knew...? Ah, Lana Skye right over there. All the lawyers and cops he could possibly want, hanging out in the same room, presumably because they too had better things to do than feign musical skill or try arts and crafts.

His eyes finally fell on the man seated next to him on the sofa. What drew his attention first was the man's face: untidy black hair, large eyes, dark circles under aforementioned eyes (He didn't sleep much? Or did he just like eyeshadow?), pale complexion...sort of like a ghost. Except this one had a cheese sandwich.

"Heh, these are pretty good, huh?" Niikura asked cheerfully, waving his half-eaten sandwich lightly in his hand.