damned_institute | Day 66: Game Room (Fourth Shift)

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Day 66: Game Room (Fourth Shift)

The game room, huh... In normal, everyday life, it wouldn't have sounded too terrible, but as things were, it seemed like more of an annoyance. Games were fine, but priorities.... On the other hand, Kyousuke seemed to have hit a block in figuring out the clues to the the illness, and just thinking without getting anywhere wasn't very productive, either. At this point, it may have been best to push it aside and come back to it fresh. He had his reservations about it, especially since the end of the day was rapidly approaching, but... Frustration wasn't going to get him any closer.

He poked around what games were there with resignation, still half wondering what he was even doing and trying not feel guilty for needing a break. After a while he came across an electronic device marked "Game Boy Color" and picked it up out of curiosity. He'd heard of those before... If he was right, this thing was older than he was, by quite a bit. Flicking it on confirmed his suspicions; the sound and graphics from it spoke for themselves.

Shrugging, he took it a random seat, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he sat down. He guessed it wouldn't kill him to mess around with this thing for a little while.

[Lloyd!]

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Today had been a day of frustrations and minor victories.

Eating breakfast, for the first time since arriving here, was one of the best things Skulduggery could have done. His headache cleared up instantly; he could feel himself thinking more clearly. He could also - and this was the important bit - get properly curious about small details again, and motivated enough to do something about that curiosity. As a skeleton, his thought processes had been limited by nothing more than his mood on any given subject. It was so very jarring how much those same thought processes now depended on Skulduggery having food in his stomach. And, presumably, enough sleep.

So he'd examined the library after breakfast and found, predictably, absolutely no sign of the damage from last night. The book he'd set on fire was back where it had been and looked exactly the same as it had the day before. It was like there was a reset button, sending everyone back to their beds, the monsters to their nests, and the fights to vague memory. It was all very unsettling.

A long talk with his nurse in the Sun Room later had Skulduggery completely convinced that none of the staff here had any idea of what was really going on. That made them victims, too. Brainwashed and taken from other realities? Or were they local? The atmosphere of the Institute, and the level of the technology, made Skulduggery fairly sure this dimension was some version of his own. What that meant, he had no idea. Not yet.

Ironically enough, his nurse's name was Stephanie. Skulduggery quietly chuckled at the revelation. Landel really did plan out every detail, didn't he?

Lunch was also another success, and much easier to handle this time. It seemed like the effects of the hair-monster from two nights ago were finally wearing off. Feeling refreshed, finally understanding exactly what feeling refreshed meant, and only mildly frustrated over the inability to discover anything useful, Skulduggery wandered into the Game Room a few minutes into 4th shift and noticed the Once-ler in the corner.

Ah. Yes. There were a few things he needed to ask the fictional businessman. First and foremost, he was getting sick of the smiley faces on all his clothes.

"Shuffling can be annoying," Skulduggery nodded as he stopped in front of the man. "But I'm sure the cards have learned their lesson. Tell me, do you still enjoy knitting?"

The Once-ler had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Skulduggery until the other man spoke. He started, staring at Skulduggery for a good few seconds as his mind struggled to come up with a reply. Skulduggery may have very well known who the Once-ler was, but the former businessman had no idea who the other man was, aside from him being a fellow patient who had trouble with basic functions and coughed up hairballs during mealtimes.

He didn't want a complete stranger to see him like this; what could he say? He'd left something very important when he was brought here? The same could be said for everyone else.

The Once-ler bent down to scoop up the cards he'd dropped, giving himself a little more time to compose himself. "Sometimes they just go flying," he replied when he sat back up, confident that he had full control of his panic. It was a good cover, he thought.

Skulduggery's net question came out of nowhere. The Once-ler narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yes...?" he answered slowly. It was a strange question, and the only reason the Once-ler could think of for asking it was one he had no intention of fulfilling.

"If you're looking for a hand-knit Thneed," he stated with a slight edge to his voice, "forget it. I'm done with them."

Skulduggery ignored the Thneed assumption. It was a fuzzy pink spiderwebby thing, if he remembered correctly. Dr. Seuss characters might have a thousand and one uses for it, but Skulduggery certainly didn't, and certainly not here. "Were Thneeds all you made?" he asked instead, with a pointed curiosity that explained exactly how he was ignoring the Thneed assumption. "What about those long green gloves you wore? You didn't buy those in a store."

Although, come to think of it, in a world created by Dr. Seuss, he might well have. Skulduggery wondered briefly if turning to the person who knitted those fuzzy pink Thneeds and made them such a success was really a wise move. It felt a little like scraping the bottom of the barrel; but it was either that or hope that one of his suits magically appeared in his closet. Or hope that Ghastly showed up at some point, but that was an option Skulduggery refused to consider. Ghastly didn't deserve to be here in any way, shape, or form. Not even to create luxurious suits in a place that clearly didn't understand how clothes worked.

There was something about the way Skulduggery replied that grated on the Once-ler's already somewhat frayed nerves. Normally he wouldn't have been bothered by it, but the possibility that he had lost the last Truffula seed, his one hope of fixing what he had ruined, had left him in a fractured state.

"I had to learn knitting somehow," he answered, the sharp edge in his voice slightly more pronounced. "Unless you think I was born with a pair of needles in my hands?" And now they were back on the long green gloves. For some reason Skulduggery seemed to focus on that.

"No, I didn't buy them in a store. An emerald green formal ensemble is kind of hard to come by when black suits are the standard." The Once-ler spoke drily, still watching the other man. He wanted to figure out what he was going to do about the Truffula seed, not discuss clothing with this man!

The sooner they stopped dancing around the point, the better. "What are you getting at?"

... Well, the Once-ler being born with a pair of needles in his hands would have made sense, in the context of the story. That was the sort of thing Dr. Seuss tended to write, wasn't it? Skulduggery might have smiled at the thought of a children's book character trying to lecture him on the finer points of societal fashion, but the former skeleton was still having difficulty controlling his face - probably best in this situation. The Once-ler seemed upset enough over something without believing he was being made fun of.

"Would you knit a suit for me?" Skulduggery finally asked, taking a seat across from the man. "Not emerald green. Just a basic color should be fine. I'll return the favor next time you need something."

It did feel slightly strange not to have any money to offer, but apart from the mundane things like electricity and Bentley upkeep, money had never meant that much to Skulduggery. He'd always felt a favor repaid was much more valuable.

He was still less than happy with the conversation, but when Skulduggery mentioned knitting a suit the Once-ler raised an eyebrow. So this hadn't been about Thneeds after all. That took some of the edge off of the man's frustration, but the anxiety over the last Truffula seed remained strong.

The Once-ler sighed. "That's what this is about, then? A suit?" Knitting always had been relaxing to him. It'd be something he could do when he needed to think. And while he had no idea what kind of favor he could (or would want to) ask of Skulduggery, one never knew.

He considered the proposal for another moment before finally answering. "I won't make any promises. I'm not a miracle worker. I can't pull stuff out of thin air, so you'd have to get me the things I'd need. And even if you did that, I probably wouldn't start immediately. There's... something I have to look into, and I don't know how long that might take." Or if it would even bring any results, he added silently.

"I'll have to think about it," he finished. The Once-ler didn't know if he wanted to do something for Skulduggery with only an open-ended favor as payment, but if he wasn't able to find the Truffula seed or proof that it was still back at the Lurkim on his own, he could cash in his favor for assistance. If it came to that.

He couldn't deny that talking with Skulduggery had been somewhat helpful; composing himself had allowed him to bring his initial panic under control. If he could maintain it after this conversation was over, he'd be able to figure out what to do. Maybe the institute had a place where they kept things that belonged to the patients?

Skulduggery nodded slowly as the Once-ler talked. He'd been expecting most of the mentioned obstacles. "Fair enough," he agreed as the man's expression was beginning to grow silently thoughtful again. "Take your time. If you do decide to, just let me know what you would need."

The Once-ler's rationale, however, was interesting. Something he had to look into. The vague wording had already piqued Skulduggery's interest - force of habit, after spending so long as a detective - but it also reminded him of what he'd seen in the library earlier that morning. The Once-ler and a woman in a wheelchair, inspecting the sticking book, just like Skulduggery had a few days ago. It wasn't hard to believe they'd come to the same conclusion he did.

Skulduggery shifted in the chair, impatiently annoyed at his limbs for getting inconveniently sore so often now. "This thing you have to look into. Is it the Oxford Book of English Verse?"

The Once-ler nodded once to acknowledge the deal. With that out of the way, he intended to return to his thoughts, now that they were under control and he was thinking somewhat more clearly. Skulduggery, on the other hand, started asking more questions.

The Once-ler frowned, slightly irked that the conversation wasn't over. "You've tried pulling it too? We didn't have much luck." He shook his head in reply. "No, it's a personal matter. Soma was planning on checking out the book, though. She's my acquaintance from the library."

He didn't like using the word, but describing someone as a friend when even he wasn't sure if that was the case did not appeal to him. He'd made that assumption before, and had been stung for it.

Skulduggery nodded slowly. So Soma was the woman in the wheelchair. And despite being in a wheelchair, she was going to attempt something dangerous tonight. She had no way of knowing, of course, but it was safe to assume anything even slightly out of the ordinary in this place was dangerous. Besides, the secret passageway - or what little Skulduggery and Rita had seen of it, before the one-eyed snake took up their full attention - was a staircase. That would just be frustrating to traverse in a wheelchair, not to mention amusing to watch.

"If you see her before tonight, warn her to be careful. That book is very important to someone. It's annoyingly well-guarded." Skulduggery and Rita would likely get there first and take care of whatever monster attacked them this time, which should leave the way free for Soma, and allow her to turn back once she saw the impassable staircase. That, or Skulduggery would be there in time for a last-minute rescue, which he seemed to be particularly good at.

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Day 66: Game Room (Fourth Shift)

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