damned_institute | Day 61: Music Room (Third Shift)

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Day 61: Music Room (Third Shift)

His conversation with Jesse had felt him feeling a little less numb. Nothing sensational, but he no longer caught himself zoning out at his lap or the carpet for minutes on end. Then again, it could have just been the pain killers wearing off. Either way, Ippo felt more lucid and while the tremors still paralyzed his finer motor skills, he could at least hold onto his lunch while his nurse wheeled him into the Music Room.

It was probably for the best since he couldn't play games, walk around outside, or make anything in the arts and crafts room. All you needed to listen to music, though, were two years. Actually, you really only needed one so he was beyond the minimum requirement.

In a corner of the room, Ippo was wheeled around so he got a view of the entrance in case he saw someone he knew. The woman accompanying him wrestled up a CD player for him to listen to. It was a pretty advanced model and the boxer was surprised they would hand out something so pricey to patients. Still, Ippo wasn't going to complain. he didn't listen to music all that much except to catch rhythm when he trained, but the classical music chosen was easy to listen to. He could drift in and out as he fumbled with his sack lunch. The apples were eaten first since they were easiest to pick up.

[Woody o/]

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By the time third shift started, Woody felt positively sick. Buzz's roommate (former roommate) may have had good intentions, but that didn't make the thought of losing his best pal easier to accept. In fact, he didn't even want to bother with his lunch when the nurse gave him his sack of food. Who could think of eating during a time like this? Buzz was...gone.

It all felt too surreal, like he was wandering through some kind of stupid, hazy dream. Stuck in a horrible place, in a body that didn't belong to him, no Andy in sight, and without a single toy who understood him. Even in a crowd full of people, Woody felt utterly alone.

Shoulders slumped and gaze downcast, he hardly felt like picking a room during the free-choice shift. His nurse had to do it for him, and after a few minutes he found himself in the music room. Woody wanted to just find himself a corner to curl up in for awhile, but he soon saw a familiar face. Unfortunately, once he took in Ippo's current state, his heart only clenched at the pitiful sight.

Oh, Mack. Poor, poor Mack. They must have taken him for experiments after all. Either that, or he'd had a nasty run-in with a horrible monster, and no one had been there to stop it.

Within moments, Woody was at his side. "Mack," he said, unable to mask the horror on his face. "What happened?"

Woody was saying something and it took a few attempts to knock the headphones off his head with his spasmodic hands. From the look on his face, Ippo didn't need to ask for him to repeat what he had said. A few hours had done him good and he no longer felt so detached from reality and his friends, but it did make him feel self-conscious and a bit ashamed.

It was probably stupid, but Ippo never did well as the center of attention, whether for good or for ill. His face immediately began to grow ruddy and he couldn't help but bring his chin in against his chest like a turtle trying to hide in its shell.

"Ah, uhmm... I--" To be honest, he wasn't sure how he had ended up on the operating table. His nurse brought him back to his room for dinner and the rest was a blank. The next thing he knew he was tied down and left with a mad man. "I got taken--" It was about the only explanation he could give. "--f-for some kind of... experiment."

The confirmation of his worst fears made Woody blanch. So they'd finally come after Mack, and this was the end result. Was he going to stuck in this wheelchair forever, or would he gradually get better? Woody almost asked to hear more about what they'd done to him, but he immediately decided that he didn't want to hear the gory details.

"That's...that's horrible!" he said instead, and he couldn't help but bring his nails to his mouth from sheer nerves. What next, he thought as he stomach churned, alien abductions? This whole thing was sick. Absolutely sick!

"Jesse and I went searching for you once you didn't show up, but--" Woody's gaze traveled toward the floor. A lot of good that did. "We didn't get to you in time. I'm...I'm sorry, Mack."

"Ah--! No," Ippo piped up once he saw what direction Woody was taking. "Don't, please. You don't need to apologize. It's... not your fault," he told him the same thing he had told Jesse. Misplaced guilt helped no one and it obstructed the big picture--Not that he knew what the big picture was in this case.

"You couldn't have stopped them even if you found me." It wasn't uplifting assurance, but it was about all he could offer his friend. The succeeding silence was more than a little awkward. Nothing could be said to make the situation better and blatantly ignoring it didn't sound like a good idea either. At least he wasn't sobbing like a baby this time. He would have to find a way to make that up to Jesse after using him like a personal tissue.

Even if he wouldn't have been able to do much, it didn't make Woody feel much better. But that wasn't really the point, was it? Mack didn't need to be trying to pat his back over what they'd done to him.

Still, the former toy nearly shuddered when he thought of what they might have found if he and Jesse had reached the...lab, or torture chamber, or whatever they used for those kind of things. At the very least, though, Woody like to think he could have put his clothes rod to use by beating back whoever had strapped the kid down.

"Listen, I know it doesn't change what happened, but we're gonna stick together from now on," Woody assured him without thinking. As soon as the words left his mouth, he paused, and thought back to when he'd said something similar to Buzz. His chest ached at the memory.

It was almost enough to make him want to give up, but Woody didn't want to see Mack stuck with the same fate, either. Woody straightened his shoulders, growing more determined.

Stick together? That sounded nice, but it didn't take long for Ippo to unravel that promise. He had never been good at giving people advice or pep talks; however, he certainly made up for it with an unbelievably impressive amount of pessimism that left his friends just as demoralized as him once he was through with them. So, while sticking together was all well and good, it was sort of null when everyone was separated for dinner. That was when he was attacked or taken. A promise to stay all together wouldn't have helped him nor would it in the future if Woody of Jesse was taken, but perhaps Ippo was missing the point.

Woody was promising to try harder and that was commendable since he rarely had that much confidence in himself to carry other people with.

"Right," he affirmed with a small nod. "Oh, uhmm, Woody?" The boxer held his juice box up that he had been fiddling with for a few minutes. "S-Sorry, but could you... ehm... open it for me?" He had meant to ask his nurse, but forgot sometime between being parked and strapped with headphones.

"Oh, uh--" Woody plucked the juice box from the young man's grasp, gazing down at it with some uncertainty. "...Sure." He'd seen plenty of juice boxes in his time, lots of them, but holding one in his hands was still a new experience for the former toy.

He wasn't stupid, though, and knew how they were supposed to work. After tearing off the straw, Woody fumbled with the plastic wrapping around the straw, eventually freeing it. Then, he punctured the foil covering over the hole and adjusted the straw to where Mack could easily sip from it.

"There," he finally said, offering the juice box back to him. "You'd better drink up." It was the kind of thing Mom might have said to Andy when he was a child, but Woody thought he could probably use it after all he'd been through last night.

He was ushered inside when the shift changed, and was given free reign once he was inside. It was sort of uncomfortable actually, but he would take the time to at least see other places he hadn't been in. Arts and crafts and the game room was familiar, so the next on the list would be the music room. Which turned out to be decently sized with a piano nearby and an assortment of other things he wasn't too familiar with. More to the point, there were a couple of cd players. He gave a light smile at those, and idly started rifling through the selection present.

Despite talking to Izaya, Mikado's mind hadn't cleared much. He still understood that he needed to make a move, but too many things had changed. Last night alone had allotted for more than he could rightfully consider but it was still there. And there, Tear's point about the monsters--creatures--and the clear and cold facts that they were more dangerous than he had thought. He needed to think before he did anything, but to be honest, he'd rather just relax for a moment. Forget a few of the irregularities, and concentrate more on the things that seemed like fantasy come to life. She was from another planet? That was really amazing to consider....

[ Celty! ]

Her interactions with others had been less than spectacular that day and, she had a feeling, would only continue to get worse if she continued to stay lost in her thoughts. With that in mind, she took the free shift to think of going to a room that she didn't frequent as often as the others, just to have a change. If nothing else, she was sure to see faces she definitely did not know and that wouldn't know, and therefore, wouldn't bother her.

The music room would do. Izaya wasn't very artsy (when he could help it) and probably preferred the Sun Room anyway since most patients went there.

Yes, she nodded at both the doorway and herself before passing through and taking a look around. There weren't many patients there at all. Only a few young men and... Mikado?!

She stopped, still stuck in the doorway. She'd known that he was there, but why was he there?! Right now, when she'd been looking to avoid another failed attempt at conversing? And... was he looking through CDs? No, that wasn't important! Looking to either side as if for help, Celty was suddenly hit by the urge to turn and pick another room when she remembered something: she had her head. Maybe it wasn't actually hers, but the fact stood that she was no longer headless. That... meant she could probably get away with not having to talk to the boy at all. Not yet at least. She'd messed up talking to Izaya that first time and didn't want to do the same with the younger boy.

Calm down, she told herself, shaking out her head before giving the room a more confident look, You don't have to talk to him yet. He shouldn't even recognize you, so... just take a seat and have a calm, normal lunch. He might even be there when you're through so... yeah... Pep talk completed, she found herself a seat off to the side of the doorway and began digging into the small sack lunch. Should be finger food again.

Other than a pair of men, there wasn't anyone in the room. So when the door opened, Mikado was peripherally aware of it, though he was busy sliding a case back where he fond it. Once it was settled, he glanced up, expecting to spend no more than a second seeing who was there. Except the person who was moving to sit down was....

The boy gaped. Harima-san?! No.... Something about that wasn't right. It wasn't her body type, for one and-- The pieces clicked into place. Izaya had said, hadn't he? "There's a headless rider here who's no longer quite so headless." And the fact of that truth was a little hard to take in. For some reason it was harder to think of Celty with a head than her without one. Still, he couldn't just... stay here, she knew what he looked like-- She did, right? He had assumed but maybe she hadn't actually seen him at all before, but--

Ugh. Decision made, his fingers left the row of cds almost hesitantly as he moved towards her. The boy halted a couple of feet away, idly entwining his fingers together from nerves. Giving a half-bow, he wondered hesitantly, "...Celty-san?"

As she tasted the slices of apple, having found that she didn't mind the fruit so much from previous experiences, she tried to think over just what she should say to Mikado. He probably wasn't expecting to ever see her with her head attached so it'd be too much of a shock to just go over and ask what he thought. She knew he was aware that she had it back thanks to that stupid information broker and the bulletin board, but in person it would be different.

A frown had made its way onto her face by the time she decided to look up and spare the young man a glance, so it was a frown that met the same boy who had moved closer to her. That and a stare that Celty couldn't have helped if she'd tried. What she did try was to get herself to react, positively somehow, an attempt that failed miserably the moment he asked her name.

She straightened under his words, almost as though she'd been accused, then trailed her eyes off and eventually downward to stare more at her sack of food. That at least wouldn't be making fun of her when she couldn't manage a decent response.

"It's weird, isn't it?" was the best she could do, quietly though and still without looking to him.

For some reason, he hadn't expected her to speak.

Celty, in the brief time he had known her, had seemed utterly natural as she was, headless, strong, and silent, and here, looking like Harima (or Harima looking like her, more appropriately) and offering words seemed something adverse suddenly, against how it should have been. It held no basis in logic, but he felt it all the same. This wasn't natural. He understood the irony of it, but there it was.

And then he realized he was staring. And what she had said. He blinked dumbly, then waved his hands in front of him, backtracking. "No, it's not, not really...." Just that it sort of was, in a way that didn't make sense. Mikado quieted, the stammering winding down as his real feelings seemed obvious. He looked at her for a moment, near solemnly. "...Do you like it though?"

It wasn't natural. Even Celty could tell that much. As a Dullahan, getting her head back hadn't mean getting it attached back like this, and then with her memories... not having those had left her thinking that this wasn't even her head to begin with. But she couldn't bring herself to say as much when she wasn't even sure if that was really true.

All she wanted was answers, but the only things she kept getting were more and more questions.

As he stared, she remained oblivious to it with her eyes averted, but brought them back the moment he turned a question back on her. Did she like it? Like having a head, hers or otherwise? That wasn't something she'd really considered before. And now that she thought about it... was it better to have a head without her memories, or no head with the same?

"I'm... not sure..." she admitted shakily, frowning herself before a thought came, "... I've been able to try food for the first time though."

It was somewhat of an awkward conversation, and it only served to remind him that he didn't know the Dullahan well at all. Mikado found himself glad that she was looking away. Her eyes were a bit disturbing when focused on him, a sharper way of watching than she had before.

And then, of course, she looked back at him when he questioned, and he blinked, looking down. Only to glance up a beat later in curiosity. For the first time? "You, ah... You didn't have to eat before, Celty-san?" Something he hadn't even considered actually, and had only assumed. As an 'inhuman' existence, he should have considered that. How would she have ate, for starters? Unless she could absorb it, or.... Did her body just continue on, without nutrients and changeless? He was curious suddenly, irrevocably so, but questioning like that seemed far too much of an overstep. He wasn't willing to tread there so casually.

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Day 61: Music Room (Third Shift)

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