damned_institute | Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

What an unproductive day this was so far. Doing nothing but sitting on a couch, watching the bulletin board and thinking too much about things...if only his injuries weren't keeping him from getting some decent exercise. (If only he hadn't let himself get injured, period, but...)

This shift, Zero was left with nothing to do but sit around, without the promise of a useful conversation like last shift with Nigredo. It wasn't like his other option was any better, though. Showers, already being a waste of time as they were, just sounded very uncomfortable, if not impossible, to do while wearing a sling and a cast. So when his chatty nurse came up to him at shift change and tried to get him to follow her to the showers, the once-Reploid refused to budge. She seemed surprised at his refusal, tossed a few 'why not's and 'we can do this and this to protect your bandages so they won't get wet's at him, but he stubbornly shook his head at everything she said. There was no way he was going in there in this condition. Too much effort for no gain. Why did getting clean matter so much, anyway? It had only been a few days since the last time he'd bathed. It didn't matter.

Thankfully, the nurse took pity on him (only because of his injuries, he was guessing) and gave up trying to persuade him to move. She left him alone with his thoughts, and the once-Reploid carefully reclined on the couch and lay his uninjured arm across his stomach, staring up at the ceiling.

... He supposed some quiet time to think wasn't all bad. He was feeling much better emotionally than he was this morning, mainly because he'd had time to let recent events sink in. Zex and Ema's fates had hurt at first, but by now he'd managed to channel most of that hurt into more resolve to fight. His conversation with Nigredo had helped keep his mind off of things and was enough to leave him wondering for awhile, even though figuring out what to do about Landel was more important than that right now. And, he had a new self-assigned mission for tomorrow via the bulletin board - to assist Ema's sister Lana in any way he could. Not to mention he'd learned about the existence of a town outside of this place....

...Alright. On second thought, the day was not as unproductive as he'd been thinking it was. Didn't mean Zero wanted to spend the rest of this shift just lying here, but at least he could say the times he was doing so earlier in the day weren't a total waste.

[free!]

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[From here.]

After another stop at the board, Edgar crossed the room quickly, hair still wet from the shower, cool temperature soothing his mood. With a quick look around the area, eyes darting from patient to patient, he finally spotted Locke in one of the empty seats, face buried in his hands. He couldn't determine what was wrong from a simple glance- that meant asking was in order.

"Locke," he addressed as he approached. "Surely my teasing didn't make you that ill."

It wasn’t long before the older women began filtering out of the showers one after another, and with them eventually came a girl with long, milky-colored hair, still wet from its wash. Tsubaki stilled when the girl approached her. She definitely looked familiar; she was sure she’d seen Rapunzel with her before.

“Yes, that’s me,” she confirmed, letting her hands fall to her sides. Although shorter in stature than Rapunzel, Soma obviously had to be a few years older like Rapunzel was, too. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, giving a bow. Her own hair had dried well enough by lunch time that she'd been able to separate it into two braids, and when she straightened she had to push them back over her shoulders again. “I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.”

Locke nearly jumped at the sound of Edgar's voice and he could already feel his face getting warmer than it had already been. He'd been hoping to talk to Edgar about the rooms upstairs, not Tolten's, seemingly, innocent note. He bit back the snarky comment that came to mind and settled for a nice glare instead. Simple, to the point, and effective enough for Locke's tastes.

Besides, he wasn't really angry. Just....embarrassed beyond belief.

"Close but, no. I've just been feeling...off all day. What about you? Have you been feeling...I guess, sick, at all?" He really hoped not. Not on top of everything else. Besides, a part of him was still hoping this was just fatigue catching up with him or something. "Oh, and I wanted to ask you about something."

Snow? Who named their kid Snow?! His last name sounded kind of French though, so... well, she'd heard worse before. Either way, the name didn't really suit such a mammoth guy. Glacier would have worked better.

"You won't need a heads up," she told him with a wave of her hand, chuckling a bit, "If she's in a bad mood you'll know it well before she enters the room probably, and half the Institute with you."

For all her talk, she really did miss her mother, nagging included.

Ilia wished that Gamzee could at least attempt to speak like a normal person when dealing with such a grave issue. Apparently he only had two modes, though. Kind of dazed, and crazed murderer. Perhaps the former was somewhat better than the latter.

"Lost your chill." She gritted her teeth and did not correct his usage of the word 'sister.' Now was not the time. She nodded and breathed deeply through her nose, trying to keep cool. "I think you lost more than that. You practically lost your humanity."

She leaned forward and gestured with a wave of her arm to his shoulder, the one that he had grasped in pain the night before. "Don't you have at least any memory of that 'penalty' the Head Doctor gave you? And what about those horns! It was like you had been half-transformed into a monster!"

Ilia opened her mouth to continue, but she found that several of the nurses had their eyes on her. Apparently she had gotten a bit loud with her proclamations. Moving further back into her seat, Ilia sighed and rubbed at her eyes. They felt so achy and puffy. "Dammit."

Next in command. They'd never formalized anything, really, but it was nice to hear it. Like the first time Miles had called her Sergeant, when she was covered in grime and worse things and yet all he saw was potential.

"Um. Thanks." There was so much to ask -- to talk about -- she wasn't sure where to start. So she went with the mission report. "We made it through the second trial, so it was probably for the best that we didn't wait. I'm a little worried about what's next -- I've heard a few things, but nothing sure."

"But," she added, her expression sharpening. Her upper lip slid back, just a bit, even though it didn't expose anything other than normal, human teeth. "Detriment to the club? What do you mean by that?" Investigation, sure. The Dendarii sent people off on secret missions all the time, and half the time they didn't even know where the Admiral was -- or who he was, really, but they generally didn't admit to working at their own cross-purposes.

"It's not something I'm at liberty to discuss," he replied, moving so his hands were folded neatly in his lap. Everything about him had to be calm as he gave this news. Any telltale fidget, a glance given in the wrong direction, anything could give away more than he wanted, especially since she was looking at him with such scrutiny. He'd seen himself in the mirror during the shower. To his own eyes, he looked tired, but his nurse had said he was looking better than before. He really had no idea what she had meant by that, but whatever it was, he was doing better than those who had come down with whatever cold was going around.

"But I will say this; my participation in club activities will become sparse, and that alone is a detriment. A leader out of touch with his people is not a leader at all." He'd always been the first to step onto the battlefield and the idea of falling behind was disgraceful. It left a sour, rancid taste on his tongue and he wanted to spit it out. "Also, be wary down there. People who come from there cannot talk of it, but I know that death awaits if you're not careful. Push below only if you're ready to walk into a trap."

"What can I say? You can never go wrong with the classics — especially when they're true!" Rainbow countered with another laugh.

True, had she been the one to stumble or trip (as she had many times) and then been the butt of the same joke, Rainbow knew that she would have reacted the way Blondie just had. Heck, she practically was reacting the same way over on the bulletin. But hey, Rainbow wasn't the one who had stumbled this time! And that was all the justification she needed to turn the tables on someone else. Fair game!

He blinked when she gestured to his shoulder, then slowly brought his hand up to it. Ow. Tugging his shirt back revealed that the area was mildly bruised. He frowned just a little, as he had no idea how it had gotten to be there. "Huh. Well look at that shit."

However, there was a little more staring in wonder at the way bruises displayed themselves across the human skin than actual worry. It was beautiful, the way the color blossomed like that. He'd though human blood was red - had seen it himself - so why were there purple splotches mixed into the injury? Was that remnants of his troll blood, or were humans just that awesome?

When Ilia went on about his own humanity, he had to pull his eyes away from it. "Monster?" He smiled. "Aw nah, sis. Horns and gray skin and all is how a motherfucker's supposed to be. Said I weren't all a human normally, yeah? I'm a troll."

He knew he'd told several people. Had she not been one of them?

His heart thrummed, lifeblood pumping merrily through his veins as the body continued its existence. Nigredo would have been grateful if not for the circumstances, if not for owing his life to kin and stranger alike. Without doubt, he understood, as he perhaps would not on another day. Yomi would have lived longer than he if she had been so inclined. There was no question, especially if Dr. Landel (Martin without his Alec) gave his assertion as truth.

The death had been a forfeit, and it was likely for that reason that Albedo was hiding.

But that was neither here nor there. Until night, Nigredo could not relay the single potential to the one who deserved to hear it. For now, he would have to wait and suffer through the day with his mild fever.

It was here, while crossing through the Sun Room, that he saw Klavier.

The man seemed wretched. In the days they had not spoken, Klavier appeared worse for wear. For good reason, Nigredo supposed. This place had its methods in cruelty. It was here, while watching the man move, that he supposed the potential could go to this one first. That perhaps news of a revival might do him well. Nigredo walked over and with a hesitant hand, grasped the hem of the other's shirt.

"Klavier."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Soma tilted her head, observing her curiously for a moment before offering a smile. She couldn't help but sense some underlying sadness to Tsubaki--subtle, but there nonetheless. It would be rude to point it out, though, and first impressions were important.

"You asked about someone named Claude on the bulletin board?" she asked instead. There was really only one Claude who came to mind, but she was interested in finding out where Tsubaki had heard the name.

Funnily enough, the original reason behind Soma replying to her bulletin note had fallen to the back of her mind during the course of the day. She still remembered Marc’s odd message, but like most things in the Institute it had been overshadowed by other events.

“Oh--right. I did.” She double-checked that none of the staff were paying particularly close attention to them before lowering her voice. The Head Doctor was just as aware of what Marc said on the radio as the prisoners were, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. Even if she couldn’t prevent him from overhearing, she could try! “I heard it on the radio last night.”

That was right--the message from Marc. She thought back, trying to remember. He was safe, if on the run--that much had been clear. It was a start.

"Claude and Lydia are allies. Both of them posed as soldiers during the military takeover." Soma lowered her own voice. The stuff they were talking about was probably common knowledge to Landel and his cronies by now, but she didn't want to be held accountable for taking that risk. "They were the ones responsible for getting our powers back a few nights ago--Claude in particular. I don't know how he did it, but Aguilar had a device that was apparently keeping our powers in check, and Claude managed to break it."

She listened to his explanation, such as it was, and said nothing. If she had to guess, it wasn't quite the truth, but it wasn't a lie, either -- he was hiding something, he could tell it if he wanted, but he didn't, and he was asking her not to push it.

She wouldn't. He'd never done anything to betray a trust before except to fall asleep, and that wasn't always voluntary. So as he moved back to talking about the basement, she leaned back, stretching into a lazy sprawl. It was, as always, a deceptive pose, but she was as relaxed as she ever got in a place where she couldn't control the environment.

Death. That's what Taura'd been hearing, not said outright, but easily picked up. The fact that people literally couldn't talk about it made sense; brainwashing and altering memories were already commonplace. If all they'd done is stop people from explicitly talking, well, that was no big risk. Not compared with the other.

"I'd wondered about that. There have been a lot of deaths -- do you think more people are making it down there?" She shrugged. "The rings have really been an asset." Which led to the fact that Landel had given them the rings in the first place, and reminded them of the basement. "He wants us down there. Any idea why?"

At the tug of resistance and that voice, Klavier stopped in his tracks. He turned his attenion down to the child quickly and, for the life of him, could not keep the surprise from crossing his face.

"Nigredo." His voice was nothing short of astonishment. Then surprise turned to relief. Overwhelming relief. If he he didn't have to foresight to consider the boy's injuries, he almost could have hugged him right there. That's how absolutely happy he was to see him there. "Nigredo. Are you alright?! How is--?"

The fact that Nigredo was alive was a miracle all by itself, and it was one he wasn't planning on questioning at this point. But how in blazes was the child managing to stand on his own two legs? With the amount of damage he had sustained the night before, he should have at best been in a wheelchair if not completely bedridden. Right now, looking at him, Nigredo didn't even look like he was in pain.

Most of it was news to Tsubaki. She blinked, angling her head as she absorbed what Soma was saying--or tried to, anyway. There was a lot there she didn’t quite understand.

“Lydia… that’s the head nurse, right? She was still here when Aguilar took over?”

There had been all that talk of moles and suspicious activity during Aguilar’s time in the hospital--if one of Landel’s trusted people had stayed behind in his absence to act on his behalf, it sort of made sense. How someone could fool Aguilar wasn’t as important was whether or not it was possible, which… apparently it was.

She hadn’t imagined someone had actually broken the thing keeping everybody suppressed, though.

“Wait, so… who is Claude? Is he one of the Head Doctor’s men, too?” Her brow furrowed as she worked at trying to connect the dots. “Why would Marc be talking with people connected to Landel like that, then…”

He seemed almost memorized by the bruising, and even Ilia had to frown at the dark splotch that covered Gamzee's shoulder. How Landel had put that there was a question that wasn't likely to be answered anytime soon. At least one thing was clear; Gamzee was not lying about forgetting things if he didn't even remember he had been in pain. Or else he was a brilliant actor.

When he started talking about how he really should be, Ilia perked up, partly distracted from the actual topic at hand. She had been under the assumption he was a child just like Rose. That the two children had known each other from whatever strange world they had originated from and their powers were part of that reality. But to hear that he wasn't anything human when he was back home, that partly explained things.

"A troll? As in the fairy-tale creature? Or..." She knew of network trolls. That was a term that had stuck through the years and never quite faded from internet lingo, though lexicalization had given it even broader meaning as time went on. That was natural. What kind of creature was Gamzee trying to say he was?

"Is that the reason for your choice of speech-style then?" Ilia had to ask. Culture greatly could affect why he said or did the things he did. She was practically praying this was the case.

It also made her question what Gamzee's relation to Rose was if she was a normal human and Gamzee was this... troll creature. She had almost assumed them classmates, but a difference like this could mean their dynamic was something else entirely. Whether Ilia could even grasp it was yet to be seen.

Surprise initially graced Klavier's expression, before it elevated to relief, overwhelming and complete. Nigredo was taken aback by the reaction, though perhaps the fault of that lay within himself. He could never expect others to be so concerned for his welfare. It was enough to bring an apology to his lips--

But that would only infuriate this man, no? Besides, that was not the question he had rambled off. Nigredo tightened his grip and stared at Klavier. "I'm fine," he said gently. "I'm fine because Landel--they undid the injuries." How was up for debate, but that was not important at the moment.

"Klavier, listen to me. Yomi--" That girl. "--is probably still alive."

Indeed, Nigredo looked absolutely fine. Not even a slight indication of hidden injury or pain about him. It made absolutely no sense, but Klavier had no choice but to accept it. Because, well... just look at him. It was unfortunate, really, that this boggling miracle was made somewhat bittersweet given the loose explanation. Klavier would rather not hold any sense of gratitude for anything done by them. But that was a moot point right then.

The odd assertion was unexpected and surprising. Klavier only blinked his surprise before frowning slightly in both confusion and wariness. "Nigredo... I would like to think that may be possible myself, yes, but... I don't think that whatever was done for you will..." The frown faded and his face straightened completely, blank. "...I don't believe Yomi's injuries will be so easily 'undone,' I'm afraid."

It was kind of cruel, but it had to be said, sorry. True, he didn't understand the logic of what happened with Nigredo, but he knew one thing for a fact: an injury was an injury, and death was death. Mending a body and restoring life were two entirely different matters. It was nice that Nigredo's circumstance had given him some bit of optimism, but... Klavier couldn't play along with that. He wasn't going to lead someone on into believing someone could come back when they couldn't. False hope was more damaging than helpful in the long run.

Gamzee shook his head at that, a small smile on his face. He'd already basically forgotten how serious the situation was supposed to be.

"Not all trolls are gonna be speakin' the same way, you dig? The heart guides your voice box to how all ever it lets the merriment spill out." He thumped one fist over his chest, which - ow - reminded him the bruise on his shoulder was still there. "I speak all from the influence of those which I get my regular pray on for. My word hole lays out its beats under the influence of the motherfuckin' Mirthful Messiahs."

That was the assumption, anyway. His friends might claim it was just Gamzee being Gamzee. As far as being a fairy tale, well, he wasn't about to harp on human culture. There were too many differences between them for him to call out the part about trolls being more than just stories. They might just be stories in their world, and that was just how things went.

Soma nodded. Tsubaki's confusion was understandable--Soma herself hadn't paid much attention to the soldiers themselves during the military takeover. Not until she'd met Cartwright, anyway, and realized there might have been something useful there. But it was too late to regret that, and at least she'd caught up fairly quickly.

"That's right. Not as the head nurse, but in disguise, as a soldier named Cartwright. If you saw a soldier walking around talking to patients during the day, that was her. Apparently she'd been working against Landel the whole time, but he'd managed to brainwash her somehow." Which was, as far as Soma was concerned, an awfully convenient excuse, but it was one that was sadly plausible, too.

"Claude...him, I don't know much more about. There were rumors that there was a mole in Aguilar's forces even before we learned about Lydia. Apparently that was Claude. I don't know what his interest in this project is, or how either of them allied themselves to Marc in the first place, but he's part of the resistance, too. He's not human, I think, or if he is, he's a human with powers. He set fire to Aguilar's device somehow, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't carrying a lighter at the time."

The first thought that sparked in his head proved unpleasant, touching close to fury. In a manner uncharacteristic for the U.R.T.V., Nigredo released the hold on Klavier's shirt and proceeded to grab for both forearms. "Klavier," he repeated. "Do I look like the optimist to you? I've seen more deaths than you have. I am not telling you this to appease some wishful thinking."

Nigredo wanted dearly to shake the man, make him realize how idiotic the assumption had been. Klavier, however, was a friend, and he deserved the proper explanation. "Listen to me. Seriously, this time." He managed a staggered exhale. "I've been to the Coliseum once before."

There was no saying what kind of reaction Klavier had been expecting of the child, but this certainly hadn't been it. Nigredo suddenly grabbed both his forearms in a firm grip. Which, in and of itself, was rather alarming and out of character for one so normally calm. But then he spoke with a sternness to his voice that seemed to cut deep into the elder man. It was difficult to tell if that was truly a result of the boy's tone or simply the state Klavier found himself in today, but it affected all the same.

The motion had caused mild surprise to show, but the words made him frown. Regardless of who it was, it was quite a claim for a child to make. Especially when he was comparing himself to a prosecutor who dealt with homicides every day (though Nigredo wouldn't know that). But even still, it was true that beyond the scope of last night's events, Klavier had no experience with live death. And Nigredo had been to that place more than once, then his claim was more than valid. Sadly, so.

He did nothing to push Nigredo away or otherwise break his grip. But he was silent for several long beats after Nigredo had spoken, frown now nothing but a sharp focus. If he wanted Klavier's undying attention, he certainly got it.

After those few beats, Klavier didn't contest anything said or question the boy's words. He simply urged him to continue with a level voice. "Yes...?"

She was leaving his reasons well enough alone and Okita closed his eyes, dropping his head slightly. It was good to know that she would let him keep his terrible secret without prodding, but it also made him wish he could tell her. It would be the second time he died here. The first, apparently kept secret by Hijikata himself, and thus not something he could easily bring up, but the second time... He opened his eyes again, catching her as she leaned back into a more relaxed position. The second death would be one that could not be hidden.

"There have been many reasons for people to die lately," he said, with only the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He wasn't sure what sort of emotion he should show in this situation, so he hovered somewhere between his usual mask and his actual feelings. "What is interesting to note is that our population is shrinking and yet more people are willing to face what lies below."

Recklessly, even. People were growing less afraid, more bold as time passed and the sensation of urgency took over. Everyone had this rushed feel about them now, as if they'd drawn their lines in the sands, found their groups, and were quickly and somewhat blindly rushing toward the unknown end. "I don't know what is beyond the basement, but I know there is something. My roommate goes somewhere at night, somewhere we can't talk about, and it seems important. Perhaps there is another challenge that lies ahead - something that has to do with why the military would be interested in this place, and why Martin Landel would use a curious word like 'multiverses.'"

He smiled fully now, looking down at her. "You wouldn't happen to know anything would you? It's such a peculiar word and he shouted it when he was dragged out of here the day the military came."

[From the showers.]

If L was going to be out and around tonight without being a hazard to himself, he would have to take it easy until then, save his energy. He'd kept the shower short for that reason; when he got out, plenty of seats were still available in the Sun Room. Leaving his slippers on the floor, he folded himself into a corner of a long, unoccupied sofa.

The shower had gone a long way towards clearing his head, but he still felt a persistent yearning for a cup of hot, sweet tea. He knew he wouldn't be getting it.

A young woman sat in a chair to his left. He had seen her around--at this point, he suspected that he had a vague familiarity with almost everyone who had been trapped in the Institute for longer than a day or two--but he had never spoken to her. Sometimes he saw her with the young girl who'd sat near him a week earlier. That girl had promised to be quiet, and she'd been true to her word.

He was tempted to close his eyes, lean back into the sofa, and spend the rest of the stretch of time before supper turning the usual mysteries over and over in his mind. Why couldn't we get further last night? If the situation repeats itself tonight, I'll have to--

The young woman was doing something weird enough to catch his attention. Her long hair was still wet from the shower, and she was reading a book, but using the moisture from her hair to help her turn the pages. No--he observed her as closely as he could without turning his head in her direction, a long glance out of the corner of his eye. There was something wrong with the whole picture: she was doing a good job of looking like she could be reading the book, but elements seemed to be missing or inconsistent. You'd have to watch her for a while to notice, and even then....

It piqued his curiosity. Why would someone make a show of reading this way when they could just feign sleep? She didn't seem to be waiting for anyone; she didn't seem to be doing anything other than pretending to devour a book.

"Is it interesting?" Inquisitive and mild. At least his throat wasn't sore.

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Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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