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

[purgatio]

Nothing Albedo didn't expect to begin with. But there were reasons to cover one's options, and at least with this, he had the word of this man to fall onto it. As much as it was worth. But there were similarities held in the transcripts of earlier nights that Albedo had read, and for that reason, he believed that the man had no reason to lie outright. There was further amusement in guile, in the setup of games, and there was no elegance in lying so haphazardly. The boy could be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time, but it was no near something like a habit.

Albedo's head twitched slightly--the smallest of nods given, acknowledgement quiet and assumed. "I don't see why I can't play your game, then." He laughed once, then smirked up at the man. "You do interesting things that I can appreciate, even in the position given to me. So I'll play the role of mercenary and manipulator for you." He inclined his head in a mocking sort of bow. "Do let me know if there's any other games we can play, hmm?~"

[head_doctor]

So that was one more down. Landel's lips curled into a smile, but he'd known from the beginning that Albedo would probably agree. With everything settled between them and a confirmation given, there wasn't much else to be said.

"Time will tell on that point," he said. "For now, focus on this, and if you do well we'll see about the future." Landel was also shocked that Albedo seemed to have some amount of respect for him. It took quite the character to be able to acknowledge that even while a victim of it.

"Sweet dreams," he said as a closing statement, and the next thing Albedo would know was darkness, just like the end of any other night.