damned_intercom: (Default)
The Intercom ([personal profile] damned_intercom) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2012-11-24 01:27 am

Day 67: Dinner

"Goodness, is it really already time for dinner? Time certainly does fly! And such a lovely day, too. I certainly wouldn't mind having a nice cup of cocoa out on the patio or something..."

That was how the Head Doctor greeted them, although it apparently didn't take him long to realize he'd gotten a little off topic.

"Now then, it's time for the nurses to escort you all back to your rooms, where you'll have the opportunity to tuck into a scrumptious plate of turkey and gravy. And, of course, we always carry vegetarian options for those who don't eat meat. We also have our usual assortment of water, juice and milk.

"Also, some of you will be receiving some extra help in warding off whatever bug some of us have been catching. Please take care, everyone, and be sure to wash your hands! I'll talk to you all again later. Enjoy your dinner."

The intercom clicked off, leaving patients with the prospect of preparing for yet another grueling Nightshift.

((Respond to this post with your character's room number in the subject line. New room assignments are listed here. If you have any questions, let us know!))
scarefaux: ([serious])

[personal profile] scarefaux 2013-04-28 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
"I'd think it would," the Scarecrow answered honestly, not knowing he'd accidentally given Skulduggery his ring that led to the mines north of the Institute rather than the one linked to the hallway. As much as he liked to think he could tell them apart, all three rings in his possession did look alike, save for the broken stones.

"All I did was set it against the wall, take my roommate's arm, and hit it with my flashlight." He mimed the motion- nothing too precise given his wobbly state, but close enough. "Like that." Despite how sturdy the gems looked when whole, it didn't take much to shatter them- or at least the Scarecrow didn't think it took much. He wasn't one to judge something on appearances anymore, having met both lovely witches and a lion who was anything but the pinnacle of bravery in spite of his monstrous roar.

He was glad the rings worked at all, honestly. It had been handy with Depth Charge to make a quick escape from whatever his roommate had been seeing that night, whatever it was that the Scarecrow hadn't been able to see. He'd said it was his shadow suddenly come to life- Scarecrow was never going to know for sure, now.

He sighed again sadly, his brave smile fading more with every one that passed his lips, ebbing away with his breath. This was for the good of everyone else, he reminded himself. He was doing no good turning into a monster and hurting his friends, especially when he wasn't sure there was a way to stop the transformation. All he knew about what was coming he'd learned at Landel's, having never thought on such things in Oz unless a lighted match was around. Abe and Skulduggery had given him all his knowledge on the subject of death: that it would hurt, that he couldn't be sure of what would happen afterwards, and that he wasn't coming back.

He felt as though bugs were crawling on his insides, every one burrowing into him as they worked their way toward his throat; he swallowed them down and wandered back to his side of the room, worry written across his face as he took a seat on the bed to rest his increasingly unsteady legs. Night was coming very soon, and he couldn't help but be afraid of the unknown.

And still, he was curious as to what it was like after death. Was there something to be found there? Or was it the end as it would be if he was burned away to nothing, as he'd imagined?

The Scarecrow laced his fingers together, wringing them as much as he could, a habit he'd had back when they were nothing more than ill-fitting gloves. "I know it hasn't been all that long since we got roomed together, and I know these circumstances haven't been the best for getting to know someone, but I want to thank you for helping me with whatever happens tonight. My old roommate— well, it was sometimes hard to convince him of anything. He could be so stubborn, and I know he just wanted me to stay out of harm's way, but—"

The smile that crossed his face was genuine that time, bittersweet. "You know, I'm not sure I can find the words for it, now that I try to think about it. So I suppose I should just stick with a simple thanks, shouldn't I?"
Edited 2013-04-28 07:56 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (adjustingthehat)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-30 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
They couldn't be real gems set into the rings, if all the force it took to shatter them could be delivered by a flashlight. Wondering what the blood-red stone actually was, though, would accomplish nothing, so Skulduggery simply accepted it for what it was and took the ring from the Scarecrow with a short nod. Breaking it would return him here; he assumed he could only do that once a night, unless he 'fixed' it by pricking his finger. And pricking his finger, as a living skeleton, would be a problem. Otherwise, Skulduggery assumed the ring would fix itself every morning, like everything else in the Institute seemed to do.

He put the ring down on his bed, laid out the suit next to it, and put the hangers back in the wardrobe. He could very well be fighting the Scarecrow within the next few minutes, but there was no reason not to look good while he was. The 'helpful' things Landel provided, Skulduggery had found, were usually genuinely helpful. Or at least not traps. This prison was far too secure for anyone to escape, so there was no reason not to psychologically torture people with helpful items.

He changed quickly while the Scarecrow deliberated, and only turned around again when he was pulling on the jacket. "You don't even have to stick with that," he answered. "You don't know me. I'll quite possibly be killing you very soon. The less you know about me, the better."

Skulduggery meant that, too. But after a few more seconds - seconds in which he realised that he'd be fighting his roommate while on the verge of becoming Lord Vile - he reconsidered his words. "But you're welcome."

He'd be making enough excuses for himself very soon. He didn't need to add to them now. So with that, Skulduggery straightened his tie, picked up the hat, and flipped it deftly onto his head - just in time to hear the intercom crackle to life.