damned_institute | Day 61: Greenhouse

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Day 61: Greenhouse

While Harvey never really enjoyed having to babysit one of the newer patients, he had to admit that Barnaby had been pretty easy to deal with. He'd been composed, quiet, and focused, which was a lot better than some of the other patients who only gave confused looks or had over-the-top reactions to everything they heard.

The point was, that conversation had almost been enjoyable, which was strange for Harvey to admit. He didn't know how Barnaby was going to manage in this place in the long run, but he wouldn't be surprised if he found his feet eventually and then did decently well for himself. It wasn't Harvey's job to care either way, but the close quarters they were kept in meant he'd probably end up finding out anyway.

Unfortunately, a positive note could only last for so long. As usual, it was a nurse who ruined it by insisting that he should go to the greenhouse for the last shift of the day. "Mr. Eckhart, it's not cold in there, so it shouldn't be any strain on you. It might be nice to help something grow, don't you think?"

He didn't dignify any of that with a response and instead resigned himself to his fate. He was one of the first people to make it into the muggy greenhouse, and he realized that he wasn't a fan of being cold or being hot. He fanned the air in front of his face for a few seconds and then went to find somewhere to sit down.

All the plants were lined up in pots; it almost felt like they were staring at him, waiting for him to do something about it. Well, that wasn't gonna happen.

[For Peter Parker.]

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The greenhouse wasn't among the areas Seishin had visited before, so when the nurse escorted the former priest towards the glass building he was a little surprised by how relatively large it was. The air inside was quite humid and muggy, but not entirely unbearable -- the summers in Sotoba could be very humid as well, after all.

There was only one other patient when he looked around; a man with bandages covering half of his face. As remarkable (if not worrying) as those bandages were, the novelist had no intention to bother the other man for no particular reason. Instead, he decided to take a look at what sort of plants they were growing in here.

All of the plants were lined up in pots, and though Seishin recognized some of the flowers and vegetables they grew, he didn't touch them. 'Growing things' wasn't anything he was particularly good at, so he would probably end up doing more harm than good.

[Free~]

Meeting with that girl hadn't been expected, and it was nearly enough to make him seek out his brother--except, the darling dear, when checked on the link, was fast asleep within his room. Albedo couldn't tell if it was medicated or natural, and he wished, for the benefit of all, including the nurses he would have to hunt down and any aggressors in the scenario, that it was a natural rest.

As if only to press into that he was alone for the last shift of the day, he was forced into the greenhouse--a place he had no interest in, and one he had only went to willing once. The last time he was here, the last Sunday, and he had taken his brother here, and they had spoke-- Perhaps, then. Is when things had actually started. If I'm worth living to you as I am, Nigredo had promised, full of a strange thanks, you have every right to take what I am. And today he had claimed it.

The boy exhaled, mind shifting to think no more on the subject. Obviously distracted still, he dropped down onto a bench, near glaring at the plant in front of him. He touched a leave suspiciously. Real, at least. Or so it seemed.

[Riku]

The greenhouse. Finally. It was the shift Kurama had been waiting for ever since he'd checked the schedule earlier that day. His nurse came to collect him to lead outside to the greenhouse. It was the one from his first day.

"Let's head outside, shall we?" she said, giving him a smile. "Did you enjoy lunch?"

Had they noticed that he hadn't eaten at all? Kurama gave his nurse a sidelong glance when she wasn't paying attention, focusing on the clipboard she was carrying. It was facing away from him, so there was no way to see if there was anything of importance there.

"I did," he replied in the pleasant tone expected of 'Seimei.' In the interest of moving the conversation onward to something else before she would have a chance to ask him anything else related, he continued on. "I heard there were therapy sessions today for some patients. Will I be assigned one sometime, as well?"

It worked; his nurse didn't pursue the subject of his lunch any further. Instead, she lifted the clipboard and Kurama angled himself subtly so he could read off of it as she flipped through the sheaf of papers. But no, there wasn't anything interesting he managed to catch. She'd flipped through them too fast for him to catch more than a glimpse, after all. He did wonder what notes they were taking on him.

"It looks like you'll have a scheduled session tomorrow," she replied. "Don't worry about it! I'm sure you'll get along just fine with your doctor." She didn't provide a name. Kurama thought it best that he didn't ask.

He was led outside with some of the other male patients. The sudden cold air was expected, but still made him shiver. Kurama was glad for the much warmer climate control inside the greenhouse. This was his environment.

There were neat rows of potted plants -- several flowers, vegetables, palm trees lining the walls, others. All-in-all, a wide selection for his arsenal, specifically designed for his abilities. Kurama wondered if he could take something with him to his room. Was that allowed? He'd have to remember to ask. It would make his nights easier if he didn't have to make a trip to the other side of the institute every so often, just to get himself a weapon. His Rose Whip had been modified for his purposes to be more resilient than normal plants, so he would frequently have to replace his weapons at this rate. Unless he was given the time and means to modify his weapons himself.

"Here we are, Seimei. I'll be back for you later." His nurse left him on his own, finally.

There weren't too many people in here with him yet and Kurama didn't feel pressured to find someone to talk to. In here, he didn't feel quite as watched as he had felt in the Sun Room.

So he picked an empty bench and sat down. It was no surprise at all that he would be near the roses. There was a reason they were his choice weapon. Kurama lifted a hand to one of the flowers, avoiding the thorns, and pulled it gently toward him so he could inspect it. Even if the institute did questionable things with their patients, they certainly took good care of their flowers.

[Klavierrrrrr]

It wasn't such a bad day. Comparatively, it was actually a rather good one. If you subtracted a few things here and there, the entirety of breakfast, the cold, the whole of his brain and how it kept running back to the same deep dark corners he needed to avoid, it was a pretty mellow experience. No one had given him any news. Worse news. It was about the only kind you could expect to hear, and it had him yearning for a thumb through of the Daily Bugle like you wouldn't believe. Even if it was one of those issues with his own mug splashed across the front for some saucy headlines.

Yeah. It was at that point. He'd even give a bear hug to the Kingpin if he strolled in for visitor's day. Lowering your standards was the only way you could work a smile out of anyone here.

Which was probably why he was in the greenhouse today. For 'fun'. Aunt May would have a field day, her little boy was weeding things of his own volition. But it was something to do with his hands, and it was something different-ish. A good chore to lose yourself in.

Except that would be really hard to do when there was only like. Five people in there with you. And he knew two of them too. Peter stifled an uprising in his gut and gave Sora a little smile and a wave, though he privately felt thankful that the boy was already talking with someone else. And the other, well.

Let's just say that while he could technically continue to avoid Harvey Dent, there came a point where you just felt ridiculous dodging somebody for no good reason. Especially after last night. He didn't seem mad at him. Call it cowardice (or highly attuned self-preservation), but after what had happened in the Coliseum he hadn't wanted to take his chances with the most volatile member of their little crew. Whatever Harvey might feel about the rest of them, he actually did like Indy. That much was plain. So excuse him for thinking that...well...

Peter would have strangled himself, too. You don't take that sort of thing lightly.

But that wasn't the case. Not yet. So maybe he could take a wee chance with a guy who made a hobby out of trailing after Batman with a gun in his hand and hope for the best. Besides, not sitting with him would just be stupid. There were so few people in the greenhouse that sitting at an empty spot would look like the height of social awkwardness.

He didn't sit though. Not unless he wasn't wanted. Hands in his pockets and situating himself at Harvey's right, he made a nod at the lonely potted plants. "I take it this isn't your thing."

Scar was still fuming from his conversation with that man in the Sun Room. 'What happened to his face?' Really? He was glad to be rid of the man and his prying questions and the nurse led him into a muggy, warm room that was completely filled with plants. Unlike the Sun room, even the walls were made of glass. It must have been a strange sort of growing house. Scar had never seen anything like it.

But if there was any physical feeling that Scar hated, it was humidity. The damp, stickiness that made his clothes cling to him and his head feel heavy. He wished he could go back to the Sun Room. (Though he didn't feel like encountering the red head once again...) He sat at a bench in the back, the air making him feel tired.

[Free~]

The first thing Sangamon Taylor saw on entering the greenhouse was Harvey and Peter having what appeared to be a serious conversation. Man, didn't the kid ever have fun? But the second thing he saw was a decent distraction. Someone had transplanted seedlings -- too small to tell what they were -- into a slurry of dirt, water, and enough all-natural fertilizer that it smelled like No Name's dumpster. Fish bone soup. At least it wasn't the chemical shit, but too much of a good thing was as poisonous as none at all.

Bastards. Probably flowers, though all he could tell right now was that they were dicotyledons. Two little leaves, without any tell-tale shapes. Probably had one of the girls pot them up this morning, just so they could tell her they all died next time. Fuck that. He got a tray of fresh dirt and made perfect little pits, into which he carefully poured the sprouts.

[free and open to backthreading]

You were on the list, Lunge. It was a very long list and there tended to be more people on it than off it, but he was on the list.

Badd escorted himself out to the greenhouse. He was a city man and didn't have much interest in botany but it seemed like it would be less crowded out here. He took a seat on one of the benches and people-watched, not really inspecting one above the other but simply watching the way they interacted. Instincts died hard.

He was almost looking forward to the night. It might be horrific again, but he'd get to move under his own power and he'd be alone with Byrne instead of surrounded by idiots.

[Guybrush]

No choice, this shift, more supervision, and a useless activity, unless someone devoted their time in the greenhouse to scoping out supplies they might want to try to loot later. Parts of the annex might be useful for hiding things, but there were probably better places in the Institute. The smell, the cloying funk that was characteristic of closed areas with a lot of plants and soil, made L wrinkle his nose. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty in the figurative sense, but he preferred to avoid the literal when he could.

He looked around and saw neither Jones nor Daemon. Taylor was working alone, and L almost took up a place beside him, but at that point, he caught sight of Edgar's golden hair among the green leaves. Of the two possible conversations, the one with Edgar took precedence, so L headed over.

"I'm not sure how I feel about sleeping until noon, but the food has definitely improved," he remarked, conscious of the nurse who had yet to move out of earshot.

[Edgar!]

Edited 2012-01-31 02:57 (UTC)

Surprises, but no answers. This was not a good way to spend the latter part of his day. At all.

As he followed his nurse to their next destination, the letter Zero had been given by her crinkled in his hand. The words on it made little sense to him; however, the name given at the bottom was an unnerving clue. Doctor Celia Giroux. At first, he wasn't sure who that was supposed to be...then he repeated the first name in his mind a few times, and the connection was made very quickly.

Celia. Seel-eah. Seel. Ciel.

He'd read the letter over again with that name in mind. The words still made no sense, but Zero couldn't deny that the tone of the letter sounded very much like Ciel. The handwriting, too, was just like hers. If it weren't for those two facts, then he would have easily dismissed this letter as nothing more than a trick. Now he was left wondering how they were able to recreate Ciel's handwriting...and what this letter actually meant, as well.

Unfortunately, the area he'd be spending the next shift in wouldn't be any help to him at all, fact-wise or concentration-wise. It was just plants. A building full of plants. A building with a humid atmosphere that made him feel more uncomfortable than he would have felt staying outside for a whole shift again...and with plants.

He understood the importance of them - Area Zero helped remind him if he'd ever forgotten that importance before - but as for actually doing anything with them, Zero could care less. What was he expected to do with the plants? Weren't they meant to be left alone?

Whatever he was expected to do, he wasn't going to do it. The once-Reploid took to wandering up and down the aisles of pots instead, thinking about the possible significance of the letter (that was now in his pocket), among other things. As he walked, his eyes casually glanced at the tags hanging beside the pots, each of which listed what kind of flower was in each pot...although Zero could only recognize a few names, like 'rose' and 'daisy'. Should he know any more? He was built for combat, not to be a botanist...but anyway...

....wait. Stop. Go back. That plant. What did its tag say again?

Iris?

...Iris.

The word was...mind stirring. For some reason. Like something vaguely familiar, yet not. It caused Zero to stare at the tag with a curious expression on his face, subtle as it was. Slowly blinking. Iris. Yes, there was some connection to this word, but the connection was severed. Something from the past that he couldn't quite remember. What was it again?

...Perhaps it wasn't very productive to want to keep staring at this plant, to stop considering that letter and everything else, but the word was just familiar enough that he wanted to keep trying to figure out why he felt this way when he heard it. Iris. What did that word mean to him? Maybe if he kept thinking hard enough, it'd come to him eventually...maybe...

Or maybe this was all just a waste of time.

More surprises, and still no answers.

[There is a Rapunzel wannabe all by his lonesome, staring at a potted seedling like it's some kind of alien species. ...IOW, this is closed because I took so long to post to this shift, Zero's being too antisocial to bother anyone, and I doubt someone would want to come pester him at this point anyway. ^^;]

Stepping into the Greenhouse was almost like stepping into a different world. He was a little surprised the place even had a greenhouse - glass was expensive, and the state of the rest of the building did not speak to a great deal of wealth. He couldn't quite say he minded, though. Having plants around always cheered him up a little (was that because of his demon-powers, or the reason for them?), and unlike outside, it was warm in here, like springtime.

Humming to himself, he set to work clearing some stray sprouts out of the edges of pots.

[For Goku!]

Today had been a quiet day, and encouragingly stress-free: no one had died or been injured in the night, and Kibitoshin had managed to avoid the company of anyone excessively threatening and/ or evil. For what felt like the first time in a while, he was actually in just the right mood for gardening, relatively cheerful and peaceful. In any other situation he either found himself horribly distracted by some tragedy or the person he'd been seated with, or so depressed or hurt that he couldn't quite treat the plants in the greenhouse with the respect they deserved.

Maybe this time he wouldn't uproot anything or plant any bulbs the wrong way around!

As Kibitoshin took a seat on the bench and watched his nurse leave, he found himself wondering if the military would have made them garden as well. He couldn't really see a point to a soldier knowing how to take care of flowers. Maybe they'd have told them to point out edible wild plants or grow food to take on military excursions- though, now that he thought about it, there wasn't much practical use to any of their activities.

Clearly, Kibitoshin decided as he examined the packets of seeds, Martin Landel just liked flowers. And there was nothing wrong with that.

[RITSUUU]

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