damned_institute | Day 66: Breakfast

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Day 66: Breakfast

What Guy had seen on that scan resulted in some mixed feelings. While he had expected to find something in Claude, seeing how he was sick, it hadn't been quite the same as what they'd seen when they had scanned that other ill patient two nights ago. What did that mean? It was possible that the shape of it just looked different because of where it was in Claude's stomach, but Guy couldn't help but feel that there was a deeper meaning to it.

Yet another thing that he didn't understand, then. With a sigh, he got himself up out of bed and went searching immediately for the single leaf that he'd taken from the X-ray room last night. It was stored carefully in his possessions box, which meant that he didn't have to worry too much about that.

While he wanted to quickly sketch the leaf's general shape to post on the bulletin, Guy wasn't given that chance, as his nurse showed up before he could even grab for his journal. He had to relent and let her lead him to the cafeteria for breakfast. While Guy considered stopping by the bulletin to leave a note, that could wait until after he ate. He suspected that Anise or Luke would try to find him as soon as possible to tell him about their findings, so leaving a note for them would be redundant.

He did need to ask about the clue from last night and see if anyone else had further insight on it, but that might be something Claude wanted to do, seeing how he had a better idea of who that baptist was and what it all might signify.

After collecting a small amount of food onto a plate, Guy took a seat near the cafeteria's entrance, keeping an eye out for any of his friends so he could flag them down as they walked in.

[For Anise and Claude.]

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The attempted change of position wasn't lost on Gabriel. Skulduggery's face didn't show much, and hadn't even in their first meeting, but there was something in the movement and the way he sat which spoke of discomfort.

"Were you injured?" Gabriel asked, peering at Skulduggery with concern. "You said you aren't ill, but that isn't the same thing." He hesitated a moment, glancing around again and finally spotting Castiel--wheelchair-bound, and speaking to someone Gabriel hadn't met yet.

He relaxed a little and turned back to Skul. "Yes, and I'm not sure yet. We performed an operation and found something in his stomach, but I haven't spoken to him today. I don't know if removing it worked."

But he prayed so. Oh, he prayed.

He knew where the room was now, but not why it was important. The only conclusion he could reach was that he'd missed too much from the night he'd passed out. The message on the intercom had already said as much, that there would be "another clue". So he'd missed one and had no idea how to interpret what ones he had seen.

No matter what he tried, he only ended up with more questions, one of which went onto the bulletin before his nurse forced him off to the cafeteria. As she left him to get his meal he looked around from his seat, searching for someone he hadn't seen in a while.

[free]

With a fever and aches to distract him, Nigredo found himself sliding in and out of sleep, out of something one could call a proper rest. Either he had slept enough or not nearly enough--regardless, complete unconsciousness was no option for the boy this morning. Resigned, he massaged his forehead and began to stare out into the scenery.

When a man with monstrous height approached and queried on seating, Nigredo found himself staring openly, mind working to apply meaning to this new development for a minute longer than was necessary. In the end, it never clicked; something in his thinking remained woefully absent this morning. Much to his (retroactive) embarrassment, Nigredo replied with the following:

"Pardon?"

So there was an operating room (or more than one, from the sound of it) that they could use in the Medical Wing. That sounded like their best bet, though the patient rooms could stand in as a back-up if they weren't able to make it that far for some reason. "All right, so we have that worked out just in case," he said with a nod.

It wasn't as if he wanted to try and operate on either of his friends, seeing how it might go horribly wrong and then he'd be the one with blood on his hands, but he also realized that it would be stupid to not work out every option they had.

As for the clue, it wasn't exactly easy to explain, and he didn't want to make Anise panic either. Guy paused for a moment. "There was a painting. It was something from an Earth religion, about a baptist, but there were also some stray leaves underneath the painting." He could probably leave the rest of the details to Claude, who understood it all a bit better.

It sounded like it wasn't so popular where Sora came from, or maybe he just had different interests. That was too bad, but he couldn't think too much about it. Japan was a soccer nation, but some places just weren't.

"... More or less," he affirmed. "A lot tears and sweat go into it, but it's worth it."

Destiny Islands... He'd never heard of the place, but there were a lot of obscure islands in the world. What really caught his interest was the mention of traveling around, since that was something not many kids got to do, and going out into the world had always been one of his dreams, along with his brother.

"That's pretty rare," he commented. "What kinds of places? Any reason for it?"

Dream bubbles? That wasn't a term Castiel was familiar with, and so he couldn't say much on the matter. Not that he had to, since the boy ended up switching around his question, probably because he'd realized that there were things from his world that would make no sense to anyone else.

If he'd even figured out that much. Considering what he asked next, it was hard to be sure on that point.

And how was he supposed to answer? Normally, Castiel would have been able to give a decent explanation, but with his mind clouded by the pain he was in, stringing even a few words together seemed difficult.

In the end, he was going to have to get the most important information out in the fewest amount of words, and hopefully that would be enough. "You've been kidnapped," he said after a pause, and that word seemed to fit for someone so young. "You're a prisoner here."

"You..." Riley stopped and stared again. "I'm speaking Japanese? Right now?" He couldn't even be skeptical anymore, like whatever muscles were needed for skepticism and suspicion were too strained. Unfortunately, there was nothing to take its place, leaving Riley feeling very blank emotionally. There was translation technology, sure. He didn't know if there was anything on the market capable of that, but if there was one thing Riley had learned, it was that the government kept secrets. So yeah, language translation, he could see - at least on a purely theoretical level, even if the technology was way too advanced.

But when Aigis responded to his story, Riley very quickly discovered that his skepticism muscles hadn't been as far gone as he thought. In fact, it went way beyond skepticism now. Now he was back to just wondering if everyone here was completely nuts. "The fate of all makind," he repeated in a mostly deadpan tone. "Right. You mean that figuratively, though. Like cybersecurity." She looked too young to even be in the military, let alone fighting anything.

But, turned out everyone here was in the same boat. That was just dandy. Who were they supposed to ask if the nurses never told them anything?

That would depend on Gabe's definition of 'injured.' Skulduggery certainly felt injured, thrust unceremoniously into a body he could barely remember how to control or maintain and forced to experience nothing but unpleasant sensations ever since. "There were lingering effects," he explained. "Nothing physical. Some mental, some... really just bizarre." There hadn't been anything yet today, but Skulduggery was eyeing the sausage with suspicion anyway. "I'd be wary of the Sun Room at night, if I were you."

It was a good thing Skulduggery didn't remember how food tasted, or he didn't think he'd be able to ignore the hunger.

"Did that something resemble a butterfly?" Skulduggery followed Gabe's look, but he didn't see anyone he would immediately peg as the man's brother, or of having been through extensive surgery. There was a man in a wheelchair, but there were more than a few of those rolling around. "How did you manage a full operation without any equipment?" Painfully, the detective imagined.

"Yes." Aigis blinked. "That is what I hear, even if you are not speaking it voluntarily." Even if he managed skepticism, Aigis was the last person to know how to pick up on such nuances.

She tilted her head, considering any other possible options. "My programming has always been set to Japanese recognition. There is the possibility I was reprogrammed when I was brought here. However, I find that highly unlikely considering the translator malfunction I mentioned previously."

"I am actually speaking of it in a very literal sense. Protecting humanity is what I was created to do." She stopped eating and looked down at her hands. The skin on one was reddened by her rash, but the other was a more acceptable flesh tone. Her skin was threaded as it would be for any normal human, not synthetic and smooth like it had been back home.

"As it is..." her voice was soft, contemplative, "I was unnecessary to achieving that ends. Though I still wish I could have helped in some way."

Leanne's heart lurched, one hand quickly flying to her chest, when Tsubaki revealed just who had attacked them. Her friend... who was sick... The one who'd left the note on the bulletin board then, it really had been him. And there was just something entirely different about hearing out loud than seeing it harmlessly written down.

Suddenly, she couldn't quite bring herself to look at Tsubaki, kept her eyes fixed on her hands instead. It was her friend who'd attacked her, not some monster, not even some other patient turned into... that; but her friend. Leanne couldn't even begin to imagine it, couldn't begin to fathom having to fight one of her own friends like that. And she'd wanted to shoot him too, having thought he was just another monster...

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking back up. "I understand. It's not his fault all of this is happening. But..." She hesitated, frowning slightly. "It's fine. You've gotta help your friend, too!"

Nearly fourteen days. Fourteen days, and Scar didn't recall any of it. It began to dawn on him that it had been one of the Head Doctor's whims of dragging people back and forth into this dreadful place. He had known about it before, but he had never realized what that might have meant for him because he had never taken his own disappearance into consideration. He didn't want to think about what might have happened to him during those fourteen days; the mere idea was able to sufficiently unnerve as well as frustrate him.

A part of him refused to believe it - he didn't even want to believe it. Scar suddenly realized he had lost his appetite, or what little of it there was to begin with. He inhaled, trying to push the topic to the back of his mind. It was best not to think about it.

"A reminder of that ordeal was just the thing I needed," he remarked bitterly, trying to maintain his calm by focusing on the conversation. The subject matter did not help, however, as it only reminded him of his torture session. "But yes, I remember. How could I possibly forget such a thing, after all?"

Still, he was a little surprised that the Scarecrow had held on to the object for so long. How awfully naive, if not almost endearing. "However, the head doctor seems to have replaced it...for some reason."

The other man's hopefulness did not quite escape Scar's notice, however, and the king regarded him skeptically. "Someone has already kindly informed of the illness last night. I'd hate to burst your bubble, but you seem awfully confident considering its consequences. Is there something crucial my informant might have missed, I wonder?"

Brook rarely waited for an answer before taking a seat anyway, so even with his lacking energy that part of him hadn't changed. He already had both his tray and himself down by the time the young man spoke.

He frowned slightly before regaining a smile and trying to be as encouraging as he was able. "Sorry if I disturbed you. Are you not feeling well either?"

[From here]

As Yuri was shuffled around from his room to the cafeteria, he grilled as much information as he could about Landel's from the staff members. He managed to learn a few things. That it was a mental institute, his "real" name and that his own mother had sent him here. He had to almost bitterly laugh at that notion. While his mother hated his guts, she also couldn't function outside of a nursing home without him being home. He was surprised they didn't take her instead.

But what's done is done. No matter how much he tried to ask nicely, he couldn't see the head of the institute and it was fruitless to try with all the nurses blocking his path like trained robots. Now he had to look for a phone, computer or anything that would allow him communication with the outside world when he had the chance. He knew this facility has to have contact with the outside world and with a high profile judge gone missing, that would cause quite a ruckus back home.

At least he didn't have to wake up to somebody yelling at him- oh wait.

He made his way through the line, his hair extra droopy today as if it was connected to his mood. The staff handling the food served him up a hearty portion of breakfast as a sort of welcoming gift. Yuri wasn't up for eating any of it.

"Excuse me, do you serve tea here?" He requested.

"Oh yes, coming right up." The lady gave a fake plastic smile and walked to the back of the room behind the counter. A few moments later and she produced a cup and a pot of boiled tea. She served it to him in a timely matter.

"There you go, anything else?"

"Do you have any... honey?" His eyes scanned the condiment packs.

"One second." Like clockwork, she produced a packet for him.

"Thank you very much." He thanked the lady for letting him enjoy a small comfort from home.

A nurse waiting for him at the end of the line escorted him to the tables, as if he was a small child in kindergarten again. He wanted to feel insulted but there were bigger fish to fry. In any case, he sat down at a lone table in one corner. While squeezing out the drops of sweet oozing honey out of the packet, he took in a view of the surroundings; noting the amount of colorful characters inside. The patients themselves actually looked more human to him and perhaps more willing to give honest answers.

[free]

Riley was starting to feel a little guilty about assuming so instantly that everyone here was a little off their rocker. It had been so frustrating when no one took him or Ben seriously about the Declaration of Independence, and here he was doing the exact same thing to other people in an even worse situation. He was actively trying to open his mind and accept everything he'd seen when Aigis - in the same level, measured tone she'd been using for the entire conversation - started talking about her programming.

Riley peered at her. Yep. That was a really good straight face.

When she didn't so much as crack a smile, the programmer cocked his head. "I get it. This is a joke on the new guy, right?" Monsters and nighttime and sadistic nurses; all of that might be real, but not this. Not... sci-fi stuff. It couldn't be. She even had a rash on her arm, for God's sake! Robots didn't get rashes. Robots didn't look and sound so human. "You're not going to tell me I'm a robot too, are you?"

Now the former troll was leaning towards the black-haired male being relatively new in some way. There was no other reason or way he would be so bright. He just probably hadn't had life kick his ass hard enough, or that was what Vriska assumed. After all, she couldn't imagine even the most cheerful of people she's met ever decide to face this situation like they were on candy mountain. She wondered if it was like some disease. "Yeah, whatever."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that's true. It was kind of obvious when they forced me into this dumb pink...form like the same you have. It's a real pain in the ass. I don't know how you can go around with something that feels like it can be easily bruised. Anyway, if they're capable in battle then maybe they're not so bad. Maybe! You could just be covering their sorry asses because you're some dumb nicey nice guy."

Well, Vriska had an idea that it wouldn't be easy, but that sounded really frustrating. She flicked some piece of her food off her tray, and didn't even care where it would land. "That's fucking dumb. Was this the first time you actually tried to escape?"

"Flynn," he responded automatically. His nurse had reappeared with a small plate of food specially chosen for its blandness and digestibility, a glass of water, and a couple of white tablets, which were dutifully swallowed. Eugene didn't have enough energy to tease/flirt with/snark at her this morning. She seemed to notice because she clucked around longer than usual, monitoring every bite until she was satisfied that he would...what? Not choke? Be appropriately nourished? It took a solid five minutes of awkward silence for her to confirm that, yes, he was a grown man who was capable of nibbling toast unassisted.

The faces he pulled at her retreating back were a mark--a confirmation, even!--of his maturity. (He had shown considerable restraint.)

Eugene was so put out by the whole ordeal that he temporarily forgot to be miserable about other things. He shot his nurse, now stationed across the cafeteria (but still watching, he was sure of it), one last evil look and turned to the boy sitting across from him, annoyed that there had been a witness to his humiliation.

"We have a complicated relationship. She thinks I'm a toddler and I think...she's a..."

Eugene trailed off. He'd suddenly noticed Link's ears.

After that, they were all he could see. They were long and pointy and stood out on either side of his head like little flesh-colored wings.

The only logical explanation was that someone had taken hold of them and vigorously pulled until they stretched. That was what he was going to cling to.

Edited 2012-09-16 04:57 (UTC)

Yeah, just in case was all well and good, but Claude still had to hope that things wouldn't come to that. It was for that reason that he didn't pursue that line of conversation, and he was content to let it rest in favor of discussing other ways to put a stop to this madness.

"Basically, it depicted the death of a man known as John the Baptist," Claude elaborated. "You remember that movie about Jesus Christ, right? The story goes that John baptized him in a river, and he was eventually killed for challenging the Romans' authority."

Rubbing his chin, he thought back on that night, and he wondered what to make of what else they found. "We weren't sure whether the leaves were medicinal herbs, or if whoever left them behind was trying to tell us to look outside. Isn't there a river outside of the grounds? Maybe it has to do with that, I don't know..." At this point, he was just rambling to himself, hoping that he would think of something useful.

"But we held onto a few leaves in case they became important later," he added with a small smile. They did their best to have all their bases covered, so that could only help, right?

Aigis' brows rose slightly at the mention of a joke. That was as far from the truth as one could get. "This is no joking matter in the least."

She held up her hand to assure him. "Assuming you were not mechanical before entering this place, then no, I would never say you were a robot. In fact, there are only a very few artificial intelligences here. Primarily, I believe the patient body is made up of humans with specialized abilities."

There were a few regular humans, as well as several other species that were trapped in human bodies. Aigis didn't think much about it. If a robot could be placed in a human body, then why not other beings? Oh, but that did need explaining. "Pardon me, I have been here so long it has become habit to assume certain knowledge." Her hand moved to her chest. "I was not originally in the body you see before you. I am unsure of how Landel managed it, but he transferred my Artificial Intelligence into this body. It is remarkably similar to the form I had before, but it is much more life-like than anything even my creators could have crafted."

That wasn't quite the boisterous greeting he had given, but he would take it. Most people were not nearly as enthusiastic as Lee. He had grown used to thinking of others as lack-luster.

He tilted his head, curious. "You did not have skin like me before coming here?" That was interesting, though Lee had to admit he only had met a very few people with skin any darker than his own. The darkest had been Facilier-sensei, and before him would have been Killer B. But he let the thought drop when she continued on.

He grinned, giving her a Nice Guy Pose. "Of course! I am always a Nice Guy!"

"You should eat," Lee insisted, eying the spatter she was making on their table. He took a bite of his pancake to show her. "It is good for you and will give you energy to seize the day! And it is better not to let food go to waste."

The shinobi nodded emphatically, eyes turning a bit serious. "I was only brought to this place the day before, so my escape attempt last night was the first I could ever have had here. I do not know what system they used to bring us back to our beds this morning, but it was quite effective. Perhaps the strongest jutsu I have ever encountered!"

"Yes, you said," Gabriel agreed with a nod. "I'll definitely be keeping an eye out." He frowned a little. "What kind of influence did it have on you? Visions? Illusions? Dreams?" He followed Skulduggery's gaze downward to the sausage and then back up again, the question in his gaze.

That flickered and Gabe looked down again, pushing his partly-eaten sausage across his plate. "It did. And very, very carefully. One of my brother's friends is very skilled with a blade and another has a talent for healing, enough to close the wound afterward." Gabriel managed to smile, but it was a weak one. He'd seen a lot. He'd seen war, seen people bleed out on the battlefield, seen what wasn't left when angels died.

But watching Kratos cut into Castiel like that, knowing that all he could do was lend Castiel his own strength, was going to stay with Gabriel for a long, long time. "My job was keeping him calm and able during. We didn't have any appropriate anaesthetic."

"Auditory hallucinations," Skulduggery added to the list with a brief shake of his head. "Materials in the food that shouldn't be there. Hair, dead flesh, what have you. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem if... well," he managed a faint chuckle, "if I was used to eating in the first place." He didn't mind admitting it for now. It wasn't as if the knowledge could potentially be used against him.

An involuntary shudder ran through Skulduggery's obstinate body at Gabe's explanation. He'd seen a lot worse as well, of course, but something about suddenly and vividly being able to imagine the pain involved was not sitting very well with the former skeleton. "Well, if it worked, I'm sure he's grateful now," Skulduggery said. "Can you describe the butterfly?"

It was an odd question in such a serious situation. But if any part of Skulduggery recognized that, it wasn't sharing the information with his conscious mind just then.

Ah. That explained why Skulduggery kept looking at the sausage the way he was. "That would make it difficult to eat, yes," Gabriel agreed with a rueful smile. Though that did make him wonder just what Skulduggery had been, if he hadn't needed to eat. Even angels, though they didn't need to eat, did. Then again, Gabriel had found it odd yesterday too. "But you should," he added. "You're going to need as much strength as Landel is willing to offer you."

Then the Archangel paused, looking seriously into Skulduggery's eyes. "I can do better," he said quietly after a moment, and reached for the napkin and the pen clipped to the front of his shirt. (As he pulled it off, it raised his T-shirt a bit--enough to see the cord of Skulduggery's rosary under the collar. Rachel had objected to his having it around his wrist; something about getting it tangled in things and getting in the way.) He wasn't nearly as good an artist as some of his siblings, but his skill would more than suffice. With painstaking patience to keep the napkin from tearing, Gabe sketched the butterfly, side-on so as to show the wing. "Why?" he asked. "Is there some relevance to the shape?"

Skulduggery couldn't argue with that. He hadn't been nearly as graceful as usual last night, even taking into account that he wasn't in complete control of his body just yet; hunger was weakening him too much. At the very least, Skulduggery knew he needed to drink something. Now it was just a matter of the detective being impractically stubborn, and that never led to good places, hypocritical or otherwise.

Skulduggery sighed. "Yes, I should. Would you mind explaining how to swallow?" Two people had tried by that point and neither of them had been particularly helpful - not that Skulduggery could blame them. It would be like trying to explain how a skeleton felt pain. "I realize it's fairly straightforward, but anything would help. Anything apart from 'it just happens.' That's becoming quite wearisome."

He saw the rosary in the brief second of the pen being pulled off the shirt, but he didn't comment on it just yet. His attention was taken up with watching the man draw, but the resulting butterfly shape - nice and detailed, fortunately - wasn't ringing any bells. "You never know," Skulduggery murmured as he picked up the napkin to examine it. "Landel could be taking all of his technology from other realities. Someone here might recognize it."

After another few moments, Skulduggery folded up the napkin and put it in his pocket, looking back up at Gabe. "Now then. You're not religious, but you make and use rosaries like only the most devout I've ever met, and you believe in God. You look very young, but you don't speak or act your age. If I wasn't a very good detective, I would say you're hiding something." A good detective didn't need to say what they knew to be fact.

"Maybe I am acting my age and I just don't look it," Gabriel suggested with a trace if impishness. It was the truth, but it also implied enough for Skulduggery to draw his own conclusions. Gabe didn't want to have to lie if he could help it. (Michael was so much better at this.)

That didn't mean the Archangel wasn't going to take the opportunity to change the subject--sort of, at least, given that the other topic revolved around Skulduggery's not being precisely human. Gabriel nodded to himself for a moment, turning that problem over, and then finally stood and pulled his chair around to the other side of the table, next to Skulduggery's.

"It's a rather strange muscle reflex," he said. "It might be easier if you tried not to think about it, and let your instincts take over. But here--feel me swallow, okay? It might help if you knew what you were trying to do. If I may ...?" He touched Skulduggery's hand, looking up at Skul with all the earnestness of someone who wanted nothing more than to help.

"From what I have been told by others, no one has escaped. This is my sixth day here." It felt like longer, though. The days dragged on and the nights flew by in a dangerous rush. "People die. Others vanish. As far as I know those are the only ways of leaving." There was no point in sugar-coating the situation. (Scar never did, anyway.)

..."You may call me Scar."

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Page 6 of 10

Day 66: Breakfast

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