damned_institute | Day 65: Men's Showers [fourth shift]

It was late afternoon when Nigredo regained consciousness, when he tasted the stale air and recognized himself as sickly. Fever, aches, and tremors--they were the undeniable symptoms of one diseased; if not for the rumored finale, he might have attributed them to his terrible luck. Instead, he dragged himself out of bed, away from his room, and to a destination as instructed by a nearby nurse. The children were to shower again.

Upon arrival, Nigredo took to nothing else but to abandoning his clothes and stumbling around the sprays, toward the single source of familiarity. Time had flown under the throes of sleep, flew faster than necessity preferred, and he had lost his grip. He wondered how many hours he had lost, how many days wasted, and still, Nigredo remembered clearly enough to trust another. With a shaky hand, he reached to touch his brother's skin, fingers tapping against a shoulder.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked groggily.

A touch was something not realized for once, and Albedo nearly started, nearly moved in defense, except his body recognized where his mind had not yet caught up. Nigredo. The one of whom many a talk had been made about since the last time they had laid eyes on each other, and here was his brother, looking all the worse for the wear. All the more mortal.

And the last time they had spoken, what had been their discussion but death, and the effects thereof. Albedo would rather not think what kind of meaning that held. Instead his hand moved to the one on his shoulder, reaching to squeeze gently. "Since morning. It's fourth shift." The boy knew since morning because-- "You were in the basement last night."

Nothing close to an accusation despite the subject. For too long had Albedo calmly spoken about the possibility of Nigredo's death to oh-so-lightly focus on things that did not matter. For Landel's presence, the boy had feigned calm, given focus. Instead, the truth came that Albedo was shaken. Shuddering in the wake.

Since morning. Fourth shift. Good, he had yet to lose an entire day, although not as auspicious as it could have been. Relief would be written in his eyes if they weren't already burdened with fatigue. If Albedo had mentioned nothing of that dreadful place, Nigredo might have found it appropriate to empty his mind. As they were, as he allowed the other to hold his hand and squeeze in turn, the boy was filling with irritation. Unknowingly, he made a face.

"I woke up there," he half-mumbled, attempting what he could of coherent conversation. "That seems to happen whenever someone I know becomes involved." This particular someone in this particular instance happened to be Renamon.

A person to check up on later, at any rate. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, forehead coming toward the nape of Albedo's neck. The room had somehow begun spinning. "Sorry," he murmured. "Can I stay like this for a minute?"

Someone Nigredo knew. The irritation and annoyance was genuine from reactions, but it still held true. How did Nigredo know that--

His brother leaned forward, head touching against Albedo's neck, and the boy's thoughts froze, stilled further at Nigredo's soft words. Without thought, Albedo drew his arms up around Nigredo--across a shoulder, around his waist--and held him firmly. "As long as you want." His tone still carried nothing but evenness--soft, and now with affection. Perhaps it was suspicious, perhaps not, but Albedo--

Was grateful. Grateful for his brother's presence. His brother's life.

Warmth drew out comfort. It calmed his mind, turned it into a comforting haze, into a head stuffed with cotton. The sun alone served as sufficient evidence for the phenomenon, although this came to a close second. Another day, Nigredo might have given into the offer. He might have stayed in another's arms for all eternity.

But here, he realized the futility. Things would end as they began, and this sickness-- It was proof of an ending, one expected and completely unwanted. One he must nevertheless bring up to Albedo. One he could never express in its startling clarity. Nigredo swallowed and closed his eyes.

"Thanks..."

A languid wave preempted a shift more than any other, and a quiet thank you with the emotions muted through the link behind it made things all the more clear. There were things to discuss, and of Albedo's own laments (of Yomi), he could not bring up now. Later. There would be later, because--

"You're sick," he said to the space past Nigredo's shoulder. "You'll be worse soon, but we'll fix it. And nothing will harm you because I--" Made a deal. To destroy others as sick as Nigredo for the allowance of protection. Albedo wouldn't allow it. Any harm to touch his brother. All of this and more. A hand moved to his brother's hair. "...Nigredo, I'll take care of you."

Respite passed in favor of declaration, and Nigredo blinked up Albedo as if in a daze. Of course, the elder would have known of the outcome. Landel had made plenty of proclamations giving that away, no? At the same time, Albedo should have recognized that this type of illness did not end simply. He should have been aware of the complications involved.

Nigredo, therefore, could not see a solution, the one Albedo touched upon.

"I--" I'll become something I'm not. That rang too close to another confession, to another sin, and he shifted his answer, more for his benefit than a brother's. "I might hurt you if you stayed close. I don't want that," he murmured, voice wavering between misery and resignation. "I don't want--" What happened before. What happened on Miltia.

To Nigredo's concern, Albedo laughed. Actually laughed, without an attempt to hold it still. The meeting last night, the nonchalant speaking of Nigredo's demise as if Albedo could even stand it-- All of that was far too breaking. And there was no fear in his brother rejecting him. Not now. Not now. Nigredo accepted, even if he couldn't understand, the many faucets of Albedo's being.

"There's a cure," he snarled, laughter on the edges. It came as a kind of mixed amusement and irritation, a funny joke he had been too late to get-- It wasn't that at all! "And things won't... Things won't hurt you again." He shifted, blinked into Nigredo's eyes. "I made sure of it. I'll make sure of it."

His lips spread into a slow smile. "It will be okay." {You won't hurt me. I'll protect you forever.}

Nigredo stiffened at the laughter, at the heavy prospect of a misstep. Possibilities existed as one and many, but two particulars surfaced to the consciousness. Either a break or an offense--he couldn't be sure as to which and worried over the lack.

To his surprise, it was something altogether different, something so perfect in its specifics that Nigredo straightened long enough to give his brother a confused gaze. "A cure?" he echoed. "Something happened, didn't it?" For Albedo to make such definite remark, something must have changed.

It took him seconds later to realize that he believed the claim. That he knew Albedo would act to protect him above all else.

Attention was given to Albedo for the words, and in exchange, Albedo tightened his hold on Nigredo's waist; stepped backwards, and lightly spun in a half-circle. He giggle, then laughed, a ruined version of himself, but why not?! This had become more familiar after all.

"Something happened," he repeated, sing-song. Then waved a finger in front of his mouth. {Mister Head Doctor was interested in meeting with me.}

"What--" His mouth snapped shut, replaced by a keen awareness of the nearby staff and the stumbling produced by his clumsy feet. The pair was attracting funny looks, all unwanted thanks to the revelation given.

To the link Nigredo would go, then. {Why?} he sent, eyes wide and possibly glazed over. The shock of the news was perhaps to blame. {What did he want?}

Edited 2012-08-03 03:47 (UTC)

This answer was simple. Simple enough to demand no preludes or dramatics, no exposition or explanation. Albedo tilted his head upward to smile, thin and without humor, then bowed slightly, like a dancer to his partner.

And wasn't this only a dance?

{A trade. Deaths for a life. That's all.} The only bargain there ever was, really, and you would find it in stories untold worlds over. And it was the same even here.

A trade. Nigredo knew the implications; he could return the statement in full. It took no stretch of the imagination to understand. Deaths for a life? Deaths for his life, of course. Nothing less, nothing more--as expected from the Head Doctor.

He didn't know what to say. A sibling's life against others was no contest, but for his own, Nigredo was stuck on a point. A point he immediately disregarded in favor of a fact. He knew, did he not? How severely Albedo needed him to live.

His next question, therefore, came a bit differently. {Whose death?}

The nurses were eyeing them now-- Albedo's mannerisms being too close to the kind that prompted violence, and if they only knew! He rolled his eyes in their direction, and his smile widened to a grin. They would be escorted out soon. Better to leave of their own violation.

But still. Albedo would respond. There was no point in withholding. {All those who are sick, of course.}

The pieces slid into place. The picture became clear. Nigredo looked at Albedo with a weighted expression, mind slowly analyzing the details. Those who were sick were other patients. Civilians. He had an unspoken commitment to keep out of their business, which included subverting their welfare.

But this couldn't be called subverting, now could it? Nigredo had to live, even at the expense of another. This was something promised. Therefore, it would not do to argue the morality. He would be a hypocrite to do so.

Thus, the variant focused on shortcomings. Limitations. {All of them?} A sigh. {There has to be at least a dozen.}

A nurse broke off to head towards them, and Albedo encircled Nigredo's waist again, tugged him forward to the room their clothes waited in with a grin. No matter that they were in there for a short time. Better yet, to remain together, then be forced apart for some reason or another.

"Not all!" he chirped, then looked at Nigredo as if weighing the value of something. "Only five. Can you guess why?"

Five seemed to be an arbitrary number for Landel, but from Albedo's tone, there was definitely a connection. For all his fevered attempts, however, Nigredo found nothing. As far as he could reason, five stayed a number. Nothing more.

"No," said Nigredo as he followed the other with slow, labored steps. "Why?"

He kept moving as he explained, switching between the link and speech in a way that he was sure to regret later. "The first is simple. Really now."

{If he wanted to get rid of those infected, why not kill them all? And why not just do it himself? He has the power--both of us know it.} "This way, though, it sends a message." {Stirs distrust and fear into the population. Places him as the secure center in a field of chaos.} The boy smiled, restrained, and shook his head. "It's a smart move. Especially when people are given incentive to stir up chaos in turn."

{Because I personally do not have to kill anyone. I am only bid to cause the deaths of others.} A simple deduction. Albedo only had to stir the masses. For this, however, he wouldn't risk it. He'd kill who he needed to keep his brother safe. "What you must understand, Nigredo, is that it is not just me. I'm trying to find out the others currently, but I might not be able to." {You can't trust anyone going forward. The incentive we're given is quite high. The rest would kill you given the chance.}

He stopped in the second room, pulled Nigredo to face him. {I won't allow it to happen.}

The move was a catalyst, then. It was a step to become the single available stability in Landel's Institute. Nigredo was currently lagging in comprehension, but even in his state, he could see the reasoning.

The fact was further emphasized when Albedo revealed the specifics of what Landel required. Indirect killings could be viewed as devastating as the direct (perhaps more, in some cases), but here, it would open more options for the U.R.T.V. to fulfill the agreement. The child listened intently as his brother continued and mused on how they had gotten opportunistic with life and death. Having this conversation registered as odd, suddenly.

All thoughts halted, however, when Albedo forced a pause. When he expressed his final view, Nigredo watched with an even gaze. He knew, of course. And with that knowledge, he could affirm the following: {I only trust you. I'll do anything you ask.}

Before anyone else, before himself, he would trust Albedo.

[To here.]

If the white witches hadn't threatened to take him straight back to his room, Goku would have run through the locker room, shedding clothes left and right in his joy to be naked and free if only for a bit. Instead, he was forced to waddle through slowly, put up his clothes in one of those metal cages that he suspected would just take them and never give them back (Though that wouldn't be such a bad thing), and slowly make his way into the steaming showers.

Setting it on scalding, the little boy spun in an unending circle, washing his hair and body quickly and efficiently... ish. But all too soon, it was over and he had to leave for more clothed places. Thankfully, that steal maw of a trap allowed him to pull out his clothes without much fuss and he soon left with one of the gaggle of women at the entrance.

[To here]

Edited 2012-08-02 23:44 (UTC)

It had been something of a relief to check up on Soma, just to make sure that she was really okay, but their conversation hadn't exactly given either of them any sudden revelations for how to handle their illness.

Sora didn't know what he was going to do, but the promise of a shower was a welcome one for once. His symptoms were distracting enough that he barely even thought about the fact that he had to be naked around other people. He mainly kept his eyes closed as he went under the spray of the water and let the warmth soothe his muscles and clear out his nose.

At this point, surgery seemed like the only option. Sora didn't think that trying to vomit up whatever was in his stomach was going to be enough. While he hadn't seen the x-ray for himself, his guess was that it was a pretty sizable item.

So then he'd have to start collecting tools for that sort of thing tonight. Rapunzel already seemed plenty busy offering help to other patients, but maybe she could help him tomorrow night. He could hold out until then... couldn't he?

Without quite being aware of it, Sora had gone through the motions of washing down his body and shampooing his hair, and a nurse called out to him, asking him to come dry off. It looked like his time was up, so he turned the water off and moved back over to get dressed.

[To here.]

Edited 2012-08-02 17:16 (UTC)

Kyousuke had to admit, the thought of a shower sounded enticing. It didn't feel as well-earned as it would with the layer of sweat and grime that followed a long practice, but he still felt inclined to take his time with it. ... It felt like he'd been talking about the same thing all day. That in itself would be exhausting by normal standards, but considering the subject matter, he also felt tense and strained, and washing that away would do him a world of good.

The showers themselves offered a little less privacy than the ones at Raimon at did, but he didn't care. It was more or less the same thing anyway. The boy ignored everyone already there and found his own stall, turning up the water to be particularly hot. His hair fell out its characteristic spikes to frame his face, and he ran a hand through it, letting his thoughts wander.

It was almost quiet in here. Back home, everyone tended to carry on amongst themselves even in the showers, and somehow that absence felt strange. ...Well, it didn't matter, and it was hardly surprising people weren't quite up to that level of energy in a place like this. He couldn't say he was either; he'd rather just linger here in silence for a while. He somehow doubted he'd get very many chances for it.

[Lee]

The meeting with Sasuke had been... It had been something! But Lee was hesitant to say what exactly. He couldn't very well be happy to know a very dangerous missing-nin was currently sharing the same close quarters as himself. He also couldn't say he was happy to know the boy had been blinded, no matter what his crimes. But Lee was not the type to dwell too long on negative feelings, so until he figured out what exactly he was going to do about the situation he was simply not going to worry about it.

Lee had arrived soaked in sweat, and the push-ups he had done in the Sun Room earlier in the day had taken their toll, so when showers were brought up Lee insisted fiercely that he wished to participate. His nurse had been almost reluctant to let him go since it wasn't required, but Lee won out eventually. His dedication to health seemed to have won him at least one round. Now if only he could also convince his nurse to allow him to make his own food.

Communal showers were nothing new to Lee. One had to adapt as a shinobi, and that also entailed losing one's shame when it came to privacy. He did, however, feel a slight tug of uncertainty about his arms being bared. He was still being denied bandages to wrap around the many bruises and scars that marred his skin, but Nurse Todd had insisted it was for "Bruce's" own good.

"You must see your scars to understand your condition, Bruce," the nurse had tutted. The comment left Lee perplexed. What condition? He stored it away in his mind for later examination.

At least his body was in terrific form! Lee couldn't be more proud of his own rippling muscles; the fruits of his labor clearly standing testament for his sensei's brilliant teaching! He wasn't quite at the level he wanted to be, but body types aside, Lee still felt he looked pretty good for a guy no one expected anything from. Boldly, Lee stepped into the shower.

Unfortunately for Tsurugi, Lee happened to be the one to take the stall space next to him. The precious silence was soon broken by the shinobi's loud voice, practically booming across the walls of the showering chamber. "Good day to you!" Lee offered the boy a friendly grin.

... Or maybe he was wrong about the lack of energy here. Most seemed fairly quiet and shuffled in and out relatively quickly, but there was one guy who seemed to have enough cheer for all them. ... Too much cheer. It would have been a little excessive anywhere else, but here, it went to beyond that to just unbelievable. Privately, Kyousuke had to wonder if this guy was an idiot, or if he was just tying really, really hard to stay positive. He spared a glance, and could only meet the smile he was given with a raised eyebrow.

"... Right," the boy responded dubiously. Frankly, he couldn't see anything good about it, and while he wasn't the type to mope around uselessly, he also wasn't about to pretend it wasn't what it was.

Lee continued to smile despite the cold reception. Sometimes people just needed a little cheer in their lives, and Lee was certainly willing to be the one to provide it!

"You know, it is impolite to not offer a 'good day' in return when someone greets you!" he chastised gently, refusing to leave the boy alone. Perhaps he was just in need of a friendly ear. "Is there something troubling you today?"

Meanwhile, Lee started on his cleaning rituals. He didn't recognize the brand of hair care products available, but he wasn't going to be choosy in this situation. While they might not give his locks the youthful glow they deserved, he would settle for just clean today.

Great. So much for relaxing. Kyousuke could linger under the hot water as he wanted, but he could now say with certainty that it wouldn't do any good; the atmosphere had already been ruined by an idiot with an inability to take a hint. He had half a mind to simply leave without another word, but the day had worn him so thin that he couldn't quite let that last comment slip.

"Do you even understand what kind of place you're in?" he responded sharply, his tone acid. He regretted it immediately, but less for the fact he'd lost his patience, and more because he'd opened the door for more of this, when in normal circumstances, he'd know better than to bother.

The snap wasn't completely unexpected, though it came earlier in their conversation than Lee would have predicted. His eyes turned sharply to the corner of his eye to watch Tsurugi though he continued to work on lathering his hair with shampoo.

"Of course I understand!" Lee spun a bit in the shower (a dangerous thing to do in even normal circumstances and should never be attempted at home!) and pointed dramatically in the boy's direction. "But do you understand?"

One might be tempted to say that Lee was uncontrollable as far as ninja went, but this wasn't so! Lee could quite manage lowering his voice when necessary, and he did just that, leaning in so that the boy would be the only one to hear his suddenly serious words. "Think about it, my friend! What is the first thing a war prison is meant to accomplish?"

Oh, brother. It seemed that in addition to the rest, this guy had a certain flair for the over-dramatic. The sudden shift almost made Kyousuke wonder if he had been planning this to begin with, but he dismissed it; that was probably far more credit than was due. He snorted.

Well, putting aside this guy's apparent desire for some ridiculous pep talk, there was one thing that caught the boy's attention. Whether he'd actually gain anything useful by asking about it was questionable at best, but at this point, it wasn't as though the conversation could become much more of an annoyance.

"... War prison? There aren't any wars going on," he pointed out, crossing his arms. But though he asked, he couldn't have a very good feeling about it. The chances that he was just wasting his time were high, to say the least.

Lee was used to scornful and disgusted looks shot in his direction, so he felt nothing foreign in Tsurugi's reaction to him. Lee merely carried on as normal.

"That is what this feels like, does it not?" Lee had never been a prisoner of war before, but his gut told him that it would be very much the same. The reaction of his fellow patients seemed to indicate this place was more of a prison than a hospital.

Lee frowned. "But there is a war going on in my country." Not that civilians would have heard of it. He shook his head. "But that is not the point! Simply, the objective is the same; to break our spirit!"

"... Not really." They were being held, sure, but that was about where the similarities ended. That particular variety of prison made no real secret of what it was and that those detained there were valued only as bargaining chips rather than humans. Not that he'd really know that for sure, of course, but the double-sided nature of this place really didn't line up to that kind of image.

As for the rest, this was pretty much exactly what Kyousuke had been dreading. There were ways keep positive while still remaining pragmatic, and this sort of oblivious cheer was pretty much the opposite of that. Moping around accomplished nothing, but it was completely impractical not to accept the gravity of he situation, and frankly, this guy's idea of keeping his head up was just plain grating.

"... Hmph. What a waste," he muttered to himself. He turned the shower off and made way for a towel; he'd had enough of this.

Hm. Lee had no idea why the boy wouldn't think being held in a facility that didn't allow you to freely training didn't somehow equate a war prison. But, to each his own. Perhaps he was used to captivity. That was a sad thought.

"Ah-ah! Wait!" Lee wasn't done talking! And he also wasn't done showering. Maybe if he hurried he could catch the boy. Until then, Lee merely raised his voice to yell across the room. Luckily the room's openness made his voice carry far. "It is not a waste! A low spirit erodes away at the mind, and after the mind goes then so does the body!"

This kid needed to listen! He had to understand, if he let this place get to him then he was not going to last!

Still no word from Shiina, and it was already the end of the day; Niikura would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't concerned. He'd ended up bothering a nurse about it all the way to the showers, but she'd brushed him off, claiming that he didn't need to worry about her and that too much stress was bad for his health. Not exactly the answer he'd wanted to hear...but at least she hadn't said something like "She's been released". He'd find her tonight for sure. For. Sure.

Of course, he still wanted to try until the very last to find her today and prove that yesterday's freak transformation had been a fluke, or at least temporary, and he could hardly do that when he was in the showers. So, Niikura went as fast as he could, careful to be gentle around the lingering bruises on his chest from the mess in Doyleton the other night, and also to be thorough with his hair. It did sag if he didn't clean it properly, after all.

As soon as he was done, though, he was gone.

[to here]

This, for lack of a better word, was hideously uncomfortable.

Harpuia knew enough about humans to understand that the naked body was generally regarded as an embarrassing, extremely private thing. He'd never really related to that as a reploid -- his armor had been directly fused to him, so the concept of nakedness was not one he'd really had to deal with.

Now that he was in this particular body, though... he began to think he could understand where humans were coming from. Harpuia didn't even particularly want to look at himself; the lack of seams and charger ports, of gleaming white and green metal, the squishy seamless fragility of nothing but too-human flesh... all of it just felt wrong. This wasn't him.

The sooner he got this hygiene ritual over with, the sooner he could cover himself up again. Harpuia was utterly silent, eyes focused only on the wall in front of him whenever possible as he went through the motions of (what he assumed) showering entailed. The water was warm, at least, though the pressure stung the injured parts of him unpleasantly; if this was supposed to be relaxing, Harpuia really didn't see the appeal.

[to here]

Edited 2012-08-05 04:03 (UTC)

Day 65: Men's Showers [fourth shift]

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