damned_institute | Day 69: Intercom, Evening

Patients might hear the wind blowing outside as the intercom turned on and they were gradually moved from the courtyard or somewhere surrounding the Sun Room and back to their rooms. The wind made a howling noise, something that almost seemed to hint at what was to come when darkness hit and night began.

But for now, everything was as pleasant as it always was during the day, with the Head Doctor chiming in to explain what was on the menu this evening.

"I'm sure you all had a nice, relaxing day as you continue on your journey toward good health, but now it's time to head back to your rooms and have dinner with your roommate before lights out. Tonight we're serving some seasoned salmon with rice pilaf on the side, and for those of you who are vegetarians we have a black eyed pea soup along with a dinner roll.

"Whatever you're having tonight, eat up and get some rest! We'll be seeing you again tomorrow!"

The nurses didn't say much about the fact that some patients had roommates who had been missing for a few days now. Normally there would be someone to take their place, but that didn't seem to be the case for a few people. The mystery behind that was clearly one that was going to remain unanswered, but at least the patients had a hot plate of food waiting for them on their desks.

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Gren had let the day wash over him in a daze. He should have cared more, and he knew it, but he felt as if he was just marking time here, especially during the daylight hours, when the facade of normality made everything just that much harder to bear.

He needed to fight it, but he felt so exhausted by it all, mentally and physically, and he found himself frequently wondering if it was worth it all. It wasn't as if he had any hope of going home--that was a dead end. And if all he wanted was to escape all of this, well. He had a knife, now. The means to free himself, awful as the option was, was there.

It was easy to stay wrapped up in his own misery, and walking into the room with his diner, seeing Edgar there, was almost like a slap in the face. He had been self-absorbed, recently, had managed to not really notice how bad off the other man seemed, though it was obvious now. He set his tray down, took his see, and sat quietly for a moment.

"Hey."

He wanted to ask, to broach the subject of what might have happened, but the dull ache of the bandaged wounds on his own chest reminded him that things happened here that people might not want to discuss, and he couldn't quite find the right words, in the end.

"Gren," Edgar addressed with a nod in greeting. It had been some time since they'd talked at any length, dinners usually passing in silence, Edgar absorbed in his concerns with Locke's transformation, Ryuuzaki's possible infection, and his own injuries. Yes, he had a lot on his mind, but he also needed to keep in contact with those allies who had managed to survive the nightly events Landel threw at them- there was no telling when they would be gone, or when he would need their help. To be so preoccupied was unbecoming of him, especially when it came to Gren. His roommate had proved useful, especially on the night they'd fought the undead beast, earning themselves a relic in the process.

The only way to fix things was to take steps toward it, Edgar noted inwardly. He was in pain and had a lot on his mind, but the chances were Gren was in a similar state, especially with what he knew of his roommate's history. The military's presence had been hard on him, but it wasn't as though much had been easier since their disappearance.

"I should apologize for how preoccupied I've been lately," he started.

"It's all right," he replied, fending off the apology. With the state Edgar seemed to be in, he could hardly fault the man for having things on his mind.

"I haven't been much better." Between what had happened with Hakkai--and he hadn't seen him since, he remembered with a twinge of guilt--and whatever the staff had forced on him a few nights ago, his head hadn't really been in the game, so to speak. "Besides, it looks like you've had a rough time," he added, gesturing vaguely to the obvious injuries his roommate sported. He might not know the story behind them, but he'd been here long enough to know that whatever it was, it was probably bad. Nearly everything that happened when the lights went out here was.

"I'm not the only one," Edgar assured, holding up his hands so Gren could see the bandages he was sporting- the fabric wrapped around his palms and wrists, traveling down his forearms where the fires of his own magic had lapped against him, searing his skin. While no stranger to injury, he wasn't used to losing control over spells like that- then again, it had only been a year ago that he had though magic to be an extinct art.

He turned his eyes on his own wrists, continuing. "With patients turning into monsters, and some dead as a result, there are others who have had it worse. I hope you've not had the displeasure of running into one of the unlucky ones to change at night."

The sight of the bandages made him wince a little in sympathy. Too many people hurt because of this place, and none of them deserving it. At the mention of the 'monsters,' he cast his eyes down, as if the floor were suddenly very interesting.

"I'm afraid I haven't been that lucky," he replied with a grim smile. "I didn't know about what was going on, and barged in on something I wasn't prepared for." He supposed he was lucky, the injuries weren't so bad, all things considered, but their placement had made it more troublesome. He'd had to choose between the added pain of bandaging the cuts too tightly in order to keep his own secrets, or comfort at the cost of being exposed. He'd chosen the pain. It was like an old friend, now.

Edgar nodded, casting his own eyes downward. "I see..."

He had to remember that they'd been prisoners for some time- while it didn't seem very long, it was relative to some of the other patients, the general populace's numbers fluctuating on an almost daily basis. People came and went, while others vanished into the night of the same day they'd arrived- he still didn't know what separated those who left from those who didn't, and given how little he felt he'd accomplished against the institution in his imprisonment thus far, he wasn't sure he ever would know.

He pushed a sigh through his nose, never willing to accept that answer. He was a stubborn thing.

"We were looking for a cure when it happened," he started, deciding it couldn't hurt to explain to Gren what had happened. It certainly couldn't make matters worse for Locke. "We weren't far from the patient blocks, so we managed to contain him in an empty room. I got clawed in the neck; the other man with me was already sick. We tried to secure our mutual friend again the next night, but he changed in the hallway. Things ended badly, to say the least."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied. It sounded a lot like what had happened with Hakkai, although worse, perhaps, because they had understood what was going on, and were trying to help. He'd just stumbled into what he suspected had been an attempt at outright murder.

He would have asked if they'd ever managed to find that cure, but from Edgar's demeanor, he was pretty sure of that answer already.

"There doesn't seem to be any limit to what they're willing to put us through, does there?" He couldn't see the end point of it all... had started to believe that maybe there simply wasn't any. The torture wasn't some means to an end, it just was.

"So it would seem..." Edgar sighed again, pushing that lingering guilt aside as he pulled open his drawer, deciding to start getting ready for the night ahead. They had a lot to do, and had made so little progress.

"Or at least that's what they want us to think," he continued, sharp eyes turning to meet Gren. "That's all the more reason we have to get out of here. They're trying to break us."

Day 69: Intercom, Evening

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