End of Night 64: Head Doctor's Office - 3rd Floor

[head_doctor]

While it wasn't uncommon for patients to black out at the end of Nightshift, a select few would have a wrench thrown into their normal routine. Rather than waking up bright and early in their typical bed, they would find themselves propped up in a comfortable leather chair.

The room itself looked like an office straight from the 1950s – almost cozy, in fact. None of them would recognize the oak table in the middle of the room, or the two bookcases, which were neatly arranged with all kinds of texts and books. Between those bookcases, though, was a picture of the Institute, framed with wood that perfectly matched the rest of the room's décor.

The knickknacks scattered across the bookcases -- staff photographs, a golfing figure made of business cards, and some prestigious-looking awards – didn't seem out of place for a regular office, either. The desk itself was the centerpiece, and was obviously well-used. That wasn't to say it was messy, exactly, but the inbox and outbox resting on top of the glass-paned surface were stuffed with a variety of paperwork and envelopes. Though most of the room looked old-fashioned, the keyboard and two flat screen monitors contrasted with the rest of the office.

These things would probably escape the notice of most of the people visiting this evening, though. After all, anyone who woke up in this office would be treated to the sight of a man peering through his oval-rimmed glasses as he leafed through some folders. Although his face was distinct enough for anyone who'd had the opportunity to see the Head Doctor in person, the small microphone sitting just inches away from him said volumes about who he was.

As soon as the patient awoke, the man looked up, offering an unexpectedly amicable smile. After closing the folder, he set it down next to the outbox and leaned back in his seat.

“Ah, good evening,” he greeted as he pulled the glasses from his nose. “I've been expecting you. You've been brought here because I thought you might be interested in making a deal, so let's discuss things like gentlemen, shall we?” Nodding toward the newcomer, he chuckled. “Take a moment to regain your bearings if you need it. I realize this must be a bit disorienting.”

Comments

[propheteer]

The sickness? If he were honest, he'd actually heard more about the spreading sickness than he'd seen of it himself, be it from a lack of contact with those infected or else the hiding of symptoms by those same people. Just earlier tonight there had been talk of a cure, and Landel... Well, Landel was right. It would be boring if things turned out the same for everyone. It would be so much more interesting to watch if there was a variety.

"Well, well... You're certainly well-informed—not that I'd expect anything less. It is your 'hospital', after all," Izaya mused. His earlier smile lingered on his face, but any warmth was slowly draining from it. Landel's response had indicated that he knew exactly who he was dealing with—Orihara Izaya, information broker, not the 'Joshua Takahashi' that Venkman and the nurses had addressed—so there was little need for pretenses outside the game of feeling Landel out, of trying not to appear at a complete disadvantage.

He laced his fingers together, peering across the office at Landel.

"So you're interested in what exactly—starting up a little witch-hunt?" he asked, looking first for confirmation, to ensure everything was absolutely clear. If Landel wanted to stir things up and have a few casualties along the way, turning the populace against itself was certainly one way to do it. What Landel was saying he wanted from Izaya was something he would have considered anyway—spreading few rumors about the sickness, then spicing things up with a little panic to see what the human mind would turn to out of fright... "If I were to agree, what are you prepared to offer in exchange for my... services?"

[head_doctor]

"A witch hunt, exactly," Landel responded, nodding firmly. That was the exact term that he had used with some of the other patients, so he was pleased that Izaya had jumped to the right conclusion so quickly. Not that it was all that difficult to understand what he wanted here. He could only instill so much fear himself -- if statements were coming from other patients, it actually meant a lot more. And confusion would be the most useful when it came to turning people against each other.

"There are a few requirements. If you and the four other people I've spoken with tonight don't cause the deaths of at least five sick patients, then you won't get any reward." It was to show that in the end, they were doing a service for him, and he was the one who was truly in charge of this whole circus act.

As for the reward, well... It wasn't as if he was going to hold back on that, either. The sooner he showed his hand, the sooner he would have Izaya's true interest.

"What I had in mind as a reward would be that... I'm sure you've noticed by now, how when the good patients we call on to perform missions for us fail in their task, there's a punishment for all of you." It was a way to motivate those who were picked to actually get the job done, but it didn't always work. "If you succeed with this job, then you'll be exempt from all punishments."

He had a hunch that would work. Izaya didn't like feeling like he was just another part of the crowd, and this would distinguish him while also saving him some minor annoyances.

[propheteer]

Izaya listened intently as Landel laid out the terms of what he was after. It was really quite simple when it came down to it: cause a few deaths and be rewarded for it. With five deaths and four other people beside himself having been recruited for the task, it even seemed easy... Only one death required per person.

As for the payment Landel was willing to offer... He couldn't say it wasn't enticing; after all, it was difficult to enjoy observing humans to the fullest when he couldn't maintain a distance from them. Maybe it hadn't been punishment for one of the missions, exactly, but the unpleasant memory of getting caught in the gassing of the cafeteria rose to mind at the thought.

"That's not a bad offer," he conceded. If he were to be exempt from punishments for such failures in the future... wouldn't it be fun to encourage people to fail them on purpose? "But before I decide whether or not to accept this job, allow me to clarify one last point. I'm sure there are many people here whose morals could be bent with the right amount of leverage," (and in fact, Izaya was counting on it), "so if I'm one of the five you chose to speak with, it's not necessarily a matter of looking for someone to carry out killings themselves. Keeping that in mind: as long as the end result is the same, I'm free to go about fulfilling your requirements however I prefer, correct? I can stick to what I know best—'spreading rumors and inciting hysteria', as you put it—as long as one of the infected dies as a result."

Taking matters into his own hands may have been the simplest course of action to guarantee the result, but it was also one that didn't interest him at all. He would much rather watch what others would do... especially the other four that had been called to the same task. Seeing how they went about things could prove fascinating.

[head_doctor]

Needing to clarify things was something he'd expected from the five patients he'd picked. Most of them weren't exactly stupid, and they knew better than to accept a deal with the devil, so to speak, unless they'd made sure they were clear on every point.

It was easy to see what Izaya was asking, even if he phrased it in a roundabout way. That sort of phrasing was one of the reasons that the man was so good at what he did, though.

"You don't want to get your hands dirty," Landel said, pointing it out bluntly. It wasn't something that he judged Izaya for, though, as he wasn't that fond of killing with his bare hands either. There were easier ways to handle something like that. "That's fine. So long as I get results, I'm not all that picky on how you go about it. So feel free to get creative." That's what he was hoping for, in fact.

[propheteer]

With Landel laying out his implication so plainly, it almost sounded cowardly... not that Izaya minded. He would take being a living coward to a dead hero any day—if 'hero' could even ever be applied to someone with his kinds of hobbies—as long as it meant he was able to continue to observe humans.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Izaya acceded. It wasn't meant as his full agreement—not yet—but it was an indication, at least, that he was leaning towards it. Heavily. "With a job like this, I'm sure payment will be held until the delivery of results... so what kind of timeframe did you have in mind? A day? Two or three? A week?"

How long he had to work with would be the final, decisive aspect in accepting the job. It was always easier to cultivate rumors over a longer period of time, but with the illness... Too long, and the ever-resourceful patients might figure out a cure—and the opportunity would be lost. "I'd imagine it's a race against the clock, hmm?"

[head_doctor]

It was a question he'd been expecting from at least one of the patients, and Landel crossed his arms over his chest as he considered. The truth was that he hadn't quite decided yet. He wanted to see just want these patients were capable of and then go from there, and he was interested to see what sort of results were produced.

"It's not set in stone yet. It will at least be a few days, but you have to understand that the sooner this all takes place, the better." In reality, he was curious to find out just how quickly the patients would work.

"I imagine you'd like a more concrete answer, but you've worked under difficult circumstances before, haven't you?" It was a subtle challenge, a way to ask Izaya if he felt he couldn't perform simply because he was limited in terms of time.